Chapter 5
If you’re still hanging with me then I will assume that you’re either interested in my story or you’re a sadist and just enjoy watching me get knocked around. Either way, this should please. As to why I’m sticking it here, just when things were getting exciting . . . well, maybe I’m a bit of a sadist too.
Don’t worry, this is a short trip down memory lane, and it was the memory my battered brain puked up after I caught Musclehead’s sucker-punch with my head.
It was sunny and stone cold outside, the grass sparkling with frost, Grandma Higheagle sparkling with costume jewelry, my favorite uncle there at her side. He was uncharacteristically solemn. I stood apart from them; a boy too tall for his age, skinny, marked by my recent beating and scarred by beatings past, looking like
