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He knew what he wanted.1

It was in mid-Autumn, nearly midnight when Travis Gunther was about to fall asleep. When his eyes became almost unbearably heavy, his seven-year-old sister, Mattie, peered through the crack in his door. Noticing the movement, he asked her to come in. She walked in slowly, dressed in her favorite pink princess pajamas. Her hair was nearly to her back, curling in sections along the way. “What are you doing Mattie? You should be in bed by now,” he said to her in whispers.2

“I can’t bubba, I’m scared,” she replied quietly, in her squeaky voice. 3

“There’s nothing to be scared of, I’ve told you that.” 4

She stared at him with tear filled eyes that made them shine brilliantly in the moonlight. Travis felt his chest become lighter at the sight and he opened his arms for her. Mattie crawled up in his bed with him and curled herself in a ball next to him. She wrapped her arm around her big brother and drifted slowly off into sleep peacefully. Travis was content, taking care of his sister. She was the only person he cared for, and she saw him as a true father.5

Moments later Travis’s father burst through his door. “Mattie!” he screamed, “Get to your damn room!” Mattie sprang up in surprise, not understanding what had just occurred. Their father hobbled to the side of the bed, half crooked in his stance, and picked her up. He began to speak to Travis, but his words were all slurred and Travis couldn’t understand what he was saying. Suddenly, he spun around, with Mattie in his arms and walked as quickly as he could out of the room, knocking his shoulder against the doorway. Travis could hear his sister’s screams in the next room as his dad threw her into her bed. Travis could hear the slap of his hand against her face. “Shut the fuck up and go to bed you little baby!” Her father did this over and over again until Mattie could no longer cry. She laid there, shaking, afraid that one more tear would bring five more slaps. When he was done, he went into their living room and passed out watching movies starring the Duke.6

Travis began to sweat furiously, and he wanted to get up and lash out at his father. He held himself back, though. Travis laid in his bed for the next couple of hours, trying to look past the incident. He only found tears and a very unmerciful rest. He tossed and turned, continuously dripping, smelling the moisture that soaked his pillow, but refused to move.7

The boy’s dreams were filled with flames and torment. His own sleep was a personal hell for him to never leave. Wondering through his dreams, he constantly tried to wake himself, but was unsuccessful. He watched his drunken father walk off again and again with his sister. He could hear his only friends’ taunt him. Over and over again, the dreams occurred. One he had that was especially disturbing was about his sister. He could hear her screaming, but he couldn’t help. Their dad wasn’t attacking her, but she was afraid of something. Travis never found out what.8

At what seemed to be the pinnacle of these dreams, Travis snapped back into consciousness. He sat up quickly, feeling an immense amount of heat spread upon his body. Thick smoke and ash filled his mouth when he gasped for air. The thought of a lunchroom burger crossed his mind, but he quickly came back to reality. He opened his eyes and saw waves of red, orange, and blue. It had engulfed his entire room. Confused and scared, he ran toward his window, ready to raise it and jump out. At that moment, he heard Mattie’s screams in the next room. Fear engulfed his being, and his heart became too heavy to carry. Fearing for her safety, he twisted around and headed towards his bedroom door. 9

He opened her door up and noticed the flames slowly overtaking the hallway. He ran quickly into his sister’s room and noticed half of the room on fire, with the rest gradually catching. Mattie had stuffed herself under her bed, near the window, and was yelling loudly. The fire had not taken some of that area yet. Travis ran to her and pulled her from under the bed, and wrapped her in his arms. He stood back up and ran towards the door. Wondering why his parents had not heard her, he opened the door up and looked down the hallway. The ceiling in the living room had completely collapsed, and when he looked down at his parent’s bedroom door, where his mom was at, he saw that the door was stuck shut by wood and fire. Turning back in awe towards the living room he saw his dad’s feet sticking out from under two pieces of burnt wood. He was not sure of his mother’s fate until much later. She died in her room, with ashes being her only remains. He tried to become distressed by their possible fate, but could not force it. For a brief moment, he was happy surrounded by the flames.10

Seeing no other choice than to leave through his bedroom window, Travis ran back to his room. He slammed the door open, headed for the window, and opened it up. He looked down at Mattie, still attached to his chest, closing her eyes as tightly as she could. “It’s going to be ok Mattie,” he said with the raspy voice that his smoke filled lungs granted him.11

Travis leapt out of his window and landed not so gracefully on his feet. He rolled on his side, still tightly holding onto Mattie. He spun around and his eyes opened widely as he took in what he saw. His small house was engulfed in flames, and the inferno was stemming out of windows and the roof, which was slowly falling in on itself. In the distance that morning, he heard sirens coming, but it was already too late to change the fate of his parents.12

He knew what he wanted.13

Six months later…14

It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon when Travis arrived at his uncle’s house from school. Tired and bruised, the short pale boy opened the door to the house in the suburbs. His hand convulsed slightly as he gripped the door handle. His palm was sweaty and slipped off the knob. After wiping his hand on his shirt, he opened the door. He paid no attention to the beautiful winter day outside. He only wanted to get inside. He just wanted to feel safe.15

Travis closed the door behind him softly and yelled out for his uncle Chuck. When no one answered, he drug his feet around the downstairs looking for anyone. He searched everywhere, even the gun closet that was barely big enough for one person. He opened every door there was, but to no avail.16

With his head hung and his back hunched, he made his way towards the stairs. When he reached them his drooped eyes looked towards the top, and he had little will left to climb up them. He crept his foot onto the first stair, and continued up the rest of them just as slow until he reached the pinnacle. From the peak of the stairs Travis stared blankly down the hallway towards the guestroom door. It was his new room. The boy didn’t want to keep going, and his bones ached more with each step he took. However, he eventually made it down the hallway, and pushed the door to his new room open.17

Upon entering his new room Travis looked at his wall: part movie posters he had recently bought, and the rest was blank white wall. While standing there, he spotted his Batman poster. He walked towards it, dropping his backpack near the bed, and grabbed the top of the poster. Travis pulled down on it and ripped the poster into three pieces, with the taped parts still clinging to the wall. He dropped the poster and fell back into his computer desk chair, the same blank look still on his face. The rough back was unpleasant though, and he stood up again. He plopped face first onto his bed, and the pillow soaked up some of his sweat.18

After a few more minutes he reached for his backpack and pulled a slip of paper from the front pocket. Lying there alone he looked at the paper, which had his current grades from school written on there. It was all C’s and D’s again. He crumpled up the paper and threw it at the trash basket near the foot of the bed. The slip bounced off the tower of garbage, however. The top was coated in game magazines, all featuring the newest “Circle” video game that was coming out. The bottom was stuffed with tissues and a ridiculous amount of empty Red Bull cans. Mixed in with all of it were random fast food wrappers. Most still had multiple bites of food left in the wrapper. Travis rarely finished a meal.19

More often than not, Travis would eat a couple of bites from his lunch and throw away the rest. At school he sat quietly as others talked about anything and everything. Sometimes they would make smug remarks about him, which he took notice to. They said it all in passing, laughing about it as they continued their conversation. When he couldn’t take much more, he would throw away his food and return to the lunch table.20

The verbal taunts that were passed around to other boys, who were not offended, had scarred Travis. Unlike others, he was bleeding profusely from all of the sharp remarks. They had been thrown to miss, but they had hit Travis dead on. It was not only at lunch that Travis would experience this. On weekends and afternoons when Travis refused to do other things, he became an object of ridicule.21

Lying out on his bed, ready to fall asleep, he thought about the day. It was like any other; depressing.22

His English teacher Mr. Bears had handed him his report card in homeroom. He looked down at Travis as he handed him the slip and shook his head in disapproval and disappointment. The day continued, with verbal taunts and no food. At lunchtime Travis was eating a hamburger, which actually reeked like garbage, when his friends looked over at him. “Hey, you wanna go to Ty’s house and get drunk with us tonight?” They already knew the answer. It was the “man” thing to do, get drunk and be stupid. Travis shook his head.23

“Pussy,” they called him, “Betcha can’t hold your liquor, huh bitch?” His friends laughed as Travis struggled to not look hurt. His palms began to sweat generously and his whole body began to shake a little.24

“What? Will your mommy spank you?” When one of his friends repeated the insult, Travis raised his head and spoke nervously. He felt his chest get lighter and sink at the same time25

“No, that’s a privilege reserved for your mom,” he stuttered. Everyone but the boy who was insulted began to laugh hysterically at the remark. The kid, whose name was Tyler, stared blankly at Travis. Travis looked around and noticed the attention he had received from his friends. Encompassed by the excitement that came with the quip he uttered, he felt it was right to try another. “Come to think of it, your sis likes to take turns with her.” Awestruck at the statement, Tyler's face went from blank to angry. His eyebrows straightened and pointed downward, while his fists tightened. The laughter that surrounded Travis rapidly dissipated, and he found himself alone again.26

The group of boys shifted behind Tyler, whose face had become a dark red. He had not taken to Travis's statement well, and stood up from the table. Travis's arms and face started to pour buckets of sweat. His fists had also clinched up tightly, upset with the fact that he was the object of ridicule, but could not joke back with his friends. He stood up to meet Tyler. Tyler started pushing Travis, calling him numerous obscenities, screaming for him to react. When Tyler turned around to walk off, Travis whispered, “asshole.” Tyler spun back and punched Travis in the face. 27

“Tell somebody you little ass, “ said Tyler, “Go ahead.” Travis looked around and then looked down at himself. He didn't raise his head back up. “That's what I thought,” said Tyler. With a smirk on his face he turned back around and strutted off towards the bathroom.28

Travis walked around the rest of the day with his head bowed down, on the verge of tears. Why couldn’t he be part of the jokes his friends told? He tried and was rejected for it. Several times people would attempt to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. He kept a blank stare on his face when he looked up and sweat stains could be seen easily under his armpits.29

Travis woke up about an hour after he had fallen onto his bed. He had dreamed of his day repeatedly. During his sleep he convulsed and turned, and was still perspiring. He sat up in his bed in his bed and found a voicemail on his phone. He picked it up and listened. 30

“Travis, honey, it’s Aunt Sharon. If you get this in time, your uncle, sister, and I are going out to eat. Call us when you get this. Bye.” Untouched by the invitation to dinner, Travis walked back downstairs as slowly as he had walked up. No request, no matter how well meaning, could bring his spirits up. The dreams he had, the nightmare that life really was, and the near loss of his sister were beginning to take their toll. They moved the blood through his veins in such a way that the friction could result in an internal fire. He did not calm down this time, and the anger slowly choked the air in his lungs, and he felt the taste of hot ash on his tongue. 31

He opened the closet near the back door and pulled a large gun out of a safe. He walked over to the closest armchair and sat down. He loaded the gun and stared down at it, and, in vain, tried to get it to leave his hands. When he could no longer take the pressure upon his face that an invisible force created, he pointed the gun towards his head. Tears and sweat dripped down his entire body, vainly trying to warn Travis of the impending danger. He knew what he wanted since this all began, and his body was trying to tell him.32

Slowly, fearful of everything around him, with his hands trembling in unimaginable ways, and his teeth chattering, Travis closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. While he had expected to see his life before his own eyes, his torments showed like a movie projector on a wall in front of him. His heart was heavy again. It was pulling him away from the bullet.33

His body was aware of what he wanted, but he had refused to tell himself his entire life. Like the dust obliterated by an atomic bomb, the heat surrounding him burst forward, and the bullet split into millions of pieces, seemingly disappearing before his eyes. Looking up in awe that he was not dead, he realized what had happened. He knew what was happening. His body had been telling him. The sweat, the trembling, the thrust to prove himself against Tyler were all his body telling him something. Another burst of heat surrounded the boy and the chair he was sitting in caught on fire. He was no longer afraid to confront what he knew was wrong.34

Travis stood up and with a grin on his face walked away from his aunt and uncle’s house and into the sunny day. He had never realized how beautiful the sun was before then. He stood in it, basking in the simple heat, and continued on, his families house burning to the ground as he walked off.35

Travis had gotten what he wanted, but there were still others. He knew what he wanted; revenge.36