Glimpse: The Broken - Nicholas Martellacci (books for students to read TXT) 📗

strides, pulling his body weight along slowly with his fingers. He found little grip on the carpeted floor. This wouldn't be it, he wouldn't die here like this, he told himself. He struggled to get his crumpled form to respond to what his brain was telling it to do. Get up! Run! He slowly mounted on one knee, only to collapse back down again. The walls and floor were gelatin. He put his fist into the floor, collected his thoughts and lifted himself up, his vision blurred and his head felt light but he was standing, and watching Dante attempting to do the same.

 

 

Luckily Maxwell was up first, he kicked Dante as hard as he could manage in the ribs, causing him to crumble back down onto his knees. Dante coughed up a mouthful of red and swore under his breath. As Maxwell was doubled over and trying to limp out of the room, he noticed a distinct lack of weight around his neck. He reached up and the necklace was gone. He frantically looked around the room, though it was hard to see with the only light in the room coming from the television, and his eye still bandaged.

 

 

After several moments he noticed the swirling red of the shard under the coffee table. He hobbled over as fast as he could, reaching down to pick it up. As his fingers wrapped around it, Maxwell felt a sharp twinge of pain across his palm. It wasn't his shard at all. It was just a shard of glass from the mirror that Trish had broken over his head swirling with the red of his own blood. Thick red fluid now dripped down his fingers from the fresh cut, as he threw the glass at Dante's body. Maxwell observed the newly formed incision on his hand. It was deep, definitely going to need stitches, he thought to himself. Maxwell felt his concussion setting in, just as Dante kicked the coffee table towards him. It slid across the carpet and hit Maxwell in the shins, causing him to buckle and trip backwards. His head hit the floor with a heavy thud.

 

 

Laying on the floor with his head to its side Maxwell felt an uneasy, yet peaceful embrace across his body. His breathing slowed as he began losing consciousness, this time for good. Dante was up on his feet now as Trish came back into the room trying to load a pistol, with fumbling bony fingers. Dante ripped it from her hand impatiently. “Time to end this shit, tell your Pops I said hey, if he even recognizes your orphan ass,” Dante said across the room, loading the pistol vigorously. As the bullets found their home in the six chambers of the revolver it gave Maxwell a moment to think.

 

 

He wondered what life would be like if he hadn't been adopted. Would his brother have grown up to be as bullheaded, protective, and caring without a little brother? Would he have been interested in the military? If he wasn't overseas he may have found a job closer to home and not had a daughter to a Navy nurse on the submarine. He might have been able to help mom with the bills after dad died and she wouldn't have met Dante in the first place. Maxwell hoped his mother would have the courage to leave him, and the cunning to find out that this woman was not his sister, but his real lover. He wondered what his real parents were like, and which of them died and left him his necklace.

 

 

Thinking of that very necklace. There it was… just within reach. Maybe if he reached out and grabbed it in time he could stuff it in his pocket before he was shot. At least then the cops might find it before Dante and Trish would, and could get it back to his mom. Who knows, it might even be worth something. If it is, he sure as hell didn't want them to get their hands on it. He reached out, fingertips just brushing against the swirling red and blue shard. He saw the gleam of the silver chain and his eyes focused. This was it, he determined, his last act of defiance against the man. He pushed forward with the rest of his energy and grabbed the shard, his hand sealing around it.

 

 

Something was happening. The shard felt strange before but now it was thrumming violently in his hand. His hand shook with the vibration of the necklace as the red and blue hues of the shard seemed to shine brighter, the ever swirling pattern spinning faster and faster. Maxwell’s blood pooled and spilled over the side of the shard. Its brightness far outmatched anything in the darkened room. Blue and red light swirled about frantically, as Maxwell stared at it in disbelief. Maxwell tried his best to stay awake, but his body was finally began to fail him. His eyes began closing as his mind started slipping into the dark abyss that surrounded him. As he heard the hammer cock back, he was sure the gun was pointed to his head. He felt at peace, this was it.

 

 

“Do it Dante!” Trish shrilled. “Take this little bastard out of his miserable life.” Maxwell waited for the shot of pain, or of light or anything, but there was just… silence, a heavy silence. Maxwell's senses were failing him now, he knew it. The shard that once seemed heavy and dense now felt very light as if he were holding nothing at all. And at this point he was sure his mind began dreaming, as he heard the throaty, reverberating growl so deep that it shook his very chest. Maxwell swore he even felt hot breath steaming on the side of his head.

Maxwell wasn’t sure if he was dead, or if this was a dream, or what exactly was happening, but… it all felt so real. He was lucky he was losing consciousness, it made staying absolutely still a breeze, as he felt the cold snout press against his cheek. “What the hell is that!?” shouted Dante. As Maxwell finally slipped from consciousness, his mind descended into the black cloud of infinite darkness around him. He could not will his eyes open to see what was going on, but the last thing he heard was several bullets going off, and Trish and Dante screaming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lots, and lots of screaming.

 

Chapter 3: Heart to Heart

No sooner had the door just shut behind Maxwell, that Jaxon, Faelynn, and Luna began conversing about his surprise party. “He is going to be eighteen, this is going to have to be big,” Faelynn said. “Trust me, he doesn’t like big parties love, hes a bit of an introvert,” Jaxon responded, looking to Luna for guidance. She smiled warmly to her friends, “Well I say we break him out of his shell a little bit,” she suggested.

 

 

“Careful what ya wish for,” Jaxon replied, “break him out of his shell and he might just find a way to break into yours,” He said with a wink. Luna giggled, but couldn’t help but blush and turn away. “We’ll see, weirdo.” Faelynn looked between the two of them, obviously knowing the least about the young man they were planning the party for. “What does he like anyway?” She inquired. “Pirates, videogames, conspiracy theories, weightlifting, cigars, playing pool, and drinking,” Jaxon listed. “Oh, and reading, dude loves to learn.” Faelynn laughed, “Geez, is there anything you don’t know about him? You could write his biography, and you can barely remember my favorite color, dweeb.”

 

 

“There is tons that I don’t know about him,” Jaxon stated. “Guy’s an enigma I tell ya, just when you think you’ve got him figured out and BAM! He says some shit I never would have expected. I’ve known him for a lot of years and I am still trying to understand him. The man definitely knows something about everything,” Jaxon continued. “You know if we can’t think of anything we can just dress Luna up with a bow, and nothing else. I am sure that would put a smile on his face,” He suggested. Luna punched Jaxon’s arm playfully before replying. “Well I say we get a couple of his friends from work together, play some pool during the daytime. Then when it gets dark, we can set something on fire, drink whiskey and talk about aliens all night,” Luna bemused bluntly.

 

 

“Welp, I’m done planning, clearly your better at this than I am,” Jaxon suggested, admitting defeat. The group quickly got to work and began calling Maxwell’s friends from work. All but two said they would definitely be there. Maxwell worked in a twenty-four hour operating company’s IT department, so some of them unfortunately had to work. Jaxon having just turned twenty-one drove the group to the liquor store and bought a couple fifths of cheap cinnamon whiskey. He even splurged and got a nice bottle of some aged butterscotch something or other, the kind of alcohol on the top shelf that comes with its own bag and bottle opener to give to Maxwell for his birthday, and of course a pack of his smooth and sweet cigars that he loves.

 

 

The trio finally finished by calling up Jaxon’s brother Derek in Virginia and asked if they could have his old couch he left at Jaxon’s mom’s place. “I’ll buy it from you, fifty bucks and a big bear hug the next time I see you,” Jaxon said into the phone while he paced around the parking lot of the liquor store. “Forty bucks if you promise you WON’T give me a hug.” Derek replied. “What the hell do you need it for anyway? The springs are busted and it doesn’t even recline anymore. I swear if this is some kinky thing you got going on and you and this new girl are going to…”

 

 

“We have our own bed and live together moron,” Jaxon declared, irritated. “We don’t need some old couch to bang on. Besides, what’s it matter what we need it for, lets just say if you give it to us, you will go down in a blaze of glory,” he snickered. “Seriously Jax,” Derek began, “I don’t want my couch being the scene of some video on the internet somewhere. Can you just promise me that?” Jaxon laughed under his breath. “What a burning question! No need to get blazing mad brother, you should try to extinguish your rage, stop drop and roll one up, and chill out a bit,” Jaxon said loudly as he tried to hide the amusement in his voice from the lame puns.

 

 

“You’re a bastard,” Derek said jokingly, “Sure you can have the couch. Don’t burn it anywhere near mom’s house or I’ll kick your ass,” the brother said, then hung up. “That last dad joke was complete garbage,” Luna said. “Stop, drop, and roll? Come on dude, be more original.” Faelynn shook her head, laughing. “You think THAT’s what gave it away?” Jaxon looked between the two girls mocking him. “I don’t hear you coming up with anything better,” he replied. “Don’t get all hot-headed with me sir, just because my puns are fire,” Luna said, crossing her arms, and raising her