Family Legacy

Family Legacy

Justin and Marcus went to the same school but were two very different people. Maybe it was the friends they chose to surround themselves with, maybe it was the parenting, maybe it was fate. No. What really caused this tragedy was a broken system that failed to live up to its promise.

Marcus grew up in his hometown. His family had lived there for ages. He was born into wealth thanks to his great-great grandfather. Before him, they were all lower class. One day, his great great granddad decided to move inland and purchased a large plot of land. Here, a small and humble farm would eventually turn into the town's number one exporter of food. Marcus’ father had lived a demanding life (nothing compared to his forefathers) and tried his best to be a better father than his and finding it nearly impossible. As a young child, Marcus’ parents built in him a sense of passion and duty. He learned how to be a “proper” gentleman at a young age; he always found it snooty, but he wanted to please his parents and eventually grew to like it. He would often picture being a king, sitting on a golden throne encrusted with jewels. He was dressed in the finest clothes and sent to the same private academy his entire family had always attended. He learned to play all of his parent’s favorite sports and started shooting skeet when he was still a boy; he would always remember how his body kicked back as the shotgun slammed against his shoulder.

Justin grew up in a different hometown than the one his parents had moved to after his sister was born; too expensive to live in California with a four-person family. Justin’s family lived moderately. He sometimes wore hand-me-down clothes when his newest ones were dirty. He would grind his jeans and shoes down to the bone; knees poking through holes in his pants and even his big toe through his shoe once. He never minded. It helped to save money and even though California had a reputation for being shallow, the friends he knew never cared.

When he moved, he had trouble finding his tribe. Talk about shallow, this town was small and full of rich self-centered types who live in a bubble. The transplant was always an enigma, but Justin was already an enigma and to be a double enigma made him feel like a myth or an unrealistic expectation. He often walked home alone, hurrying back to have dinner with the family before his mom needed to go to work. He often wished, as a child, for more time with his parents. As he started to grow older he understood that life was tough. Whatever the situation was, the family was happy and always made the best of what they had.

As Marcus became a teenager and went through the burden of becoming slightly more self-actualized, he gained a sense of entitlement; one where you don’t realize you have it because you’re surrounded by a bunch of “yes” people. His emotions were challenged very little, leading to a low score on the emotional intelligence spectrum. His self-discipline was non-existent. Lucky for him his charisma score was high. He made friends easily at his private academy but was starting to get bored with the same routine by the time middle school came around. He would often find himself in trouble with the faculty and using his family legacy as an excuse for his bad behavior. His friends rode along because they knew he was the “get out of jail free” card. Eventually the staff learned to turn the other cheek so as to not acquire the wrath of Marcus or his family; handing out a few dollars here and there didn’t hurt either. Being bathed in money allowed Marcus to explore as many hobbies as he wanted. First, the ones his parents hoped he’d do; chess, cricket, horseback riding (he didn’t hate it); later combat sports like boxing and jujitsu, which he loved and was naturally talented in.

As Justin became a teenager he grew to be an emotionally intelligent person. Whether this came from living in a sensitive environment where he worried about his parent's emotions or because he truly was an empathic rarity… he wanted to treat people kindly in a cruel world. He learned very quickly that he wasn’t going to be handed anything; no silver spoons or fancy golden thrones. This made him secretly jaded (or obviously jaded depending on who you ask). He wished to have more than he did. Seeing his family's situation and realizing he didn’t want to be that way forever, he decided to make his own money. Justin’s self-discipline score was high. He started streaming with nothing more than a console and a headset and within a year and a half had upgraded to a sustainable stream. He knew his parents couldn’t afford the computer they bought him that Christmas, but he swore he would pay them back when he could.

Working hard didn’t give him much time to make friends, but once he started making more money he didn’t need to spend as much time behind a computer desk. After paying his parents back like he promised, he began looking into hobbies and skills he could obtain. He tried out what he could afford. Skateboarding (he loved it but sucked.), LARPing, painting, piano, coding, writing. Eventually, he fell in love with theater and jujitsu and dove headfirst into both hobbies.

Marcus and Justin were on the same training squad together at their local center. The wide opposition between the lifestyles of the families was apparent. Marcus always had the nicest and newest attire and equipment. Justin wore the starting gi every time, making sure it stayed washed so it didn’t acquire a funk; he secretly feared being that smelly guy. The chasm between skill levels was also vast. Marcus had been trained in wrestling and had been taking judo for the past two years to satisfy his competitive nature. Justin was just starting and was taking things less competitively. All this aside, the two earned their first stripe together. Justin was a sponge when it came to learning new things and his progression showed. Marcus was his training partner often and he learned much from his higher level opponent. Eventually, Marcus leveled up to a blue-belt and Justin left the sport behind. He got injured for a bit and never wanted to go back; popping your elbow out of place will do that. Marcus on the other hand continued to excel, and with a little help from the family’s “legacy”, he reached his black belt by sophomore year of highschool. Was it real? Only kind of.

Having grown tired of the preparatory academy he was attending, Marcus begged his parents to send him to a public highschool for the last four years of his learning career. He wanted to play sports on a real team that had an impact in the community and could lead to college play. He wanted to make real friends, not the fake and shallow ones who had been leeching off his legacy for the past forever. He wanted to have “real life” experiences.

His parents eventually caved after he decided not to speak to them for two weeks; giving their boy everything was top priority and it was easier to avoid his malice than to face it head on. His dad made him agree to one condition, that he would try out for the football team. Father knew being a part of the Ramparts would open doors for college tuitions and community projects, which of course shines bright on the legacy. Anything good for the legacy was good for Marcus. God, he hated that word.

Justin begged his parents his last year of middle school to go to a vocational school in a nearby city; he wanted to learn graphic design and video game design and his school lacked the necessary curriculum to teach him these skills. After working it out financially, his parents agreed. He decided to split the monthly payments. His stream was doing well but he would need to cut back if he was going to focus on honing his career. Unfortunately, even though he studied and put in the work, he failed the acceptance test.

Thrust back into the general population for his highschool year, an honest sigh of relief from his parents that they wouldn’t be spending extra money, he decided not to care as much. The system didn’t consider passion, only what you could devour and regurgitate; it was rigged for the lucky, wealthy and stupid. He already had a successful income built anyway and highschool could offer him slim pickings when it came to attention grabbing subjects. Fortunately enough, weed kept it interesting. One of his only friends introduced him to it. It seemed to muffle his anger at the world. Win win.

Marcus upheld his end of the bargain and tried out for the Ramparts the summer before his freshman year; he was the worst player on the field in every position. With some help from the family wallet and two and a half months of getting his ass kicked into shape, Marcus made first string quarterback; a star position. He actually got good. He became instantly popular upon his entry into the general population and by tenth grade had made a lot of friends around school; student and teacher alike. He was involved heavily around the community; whether it was setting up a fundraiser for a local charity or a car wash to raise funds for the Ramparts season… Marcus’ family was always involved as well. It was best for the legacy. Smile and wave. Don’t let them look behind the curtain. The usual pretentious niceties.

The sense of small town pride Marcus began to feel for his birthplace was toxic to say the least; the kind of small town toxicity only those who have escaped it are aware of. Anyone who had a nasty word to say about the community was going to hear from him, that’s for sure. His temper and malice were excused as passion and pride in a young and growing man; a rabid animal in a trap, waiting to mangle the next hand that comes close.

Justin was entirely the opposite. He loved solitude; even when spending time with a few of his friends. That’s all they were… few. His stream was an even bigger hit now that he had escaped into it. His dedication, gaming skills, and depression were enough to pay the bills. His dad wouldn’t accept the help but his mom did, so he would slip her some money behind his back. He never paid for everything, but a few things were enough. Justin participated in school, barely showing enough effort to squeeze by. Most of the time he was in his own world.

Whether it was writing poetry or trying his best to draw sketches during class, he felt the need to always be creating; listening to the endless drone of teachers all day was no good for an artist. He wanted to be working on his craft and honing it with every chance he could. Was it also an escape? Probably. He didn’t care. He began writing a book and finished two rough drafts in one year, tossing them into a storage bin and forgetting about them afterwards. He smoked weed every night with his closest buddy, and began dabbling in all sorts of sexual encounters with a few close and trustworthy friends. He enjoyed the pleasure of laying with someone who wasn’t looking for companionship; no drama needed, just pure connection.

During sophomore year he and his few would hold small bonfires at his house. His parents never seemed to mind, knowing that they were all safe at home was more important than ruining their fun; had they known what they were actually doing maybe they’d have changed their minds. Eventually word spread and the party upgraded to more than just shitty dry joints. Justin decided to spare the opportunity to get busted and reallocated the fire pit to a hidden location in the woods; many a good time were had here.

Junior year rolled in. Marcus was known as the typical hometown highschool football star. His reputation for being a hot-head had grown, but his football stardom and his family legacy kept him away from experiencing real life adversity. He was used to throwing fits to get his way; one time he knocked someone out for giving him a “look.” His friends never said anything. They were either scared or riding his coattails; some of his lackeys even enjoyed the brutality. He fell in love with a girl, or what he thought was love. After she took his virginity, they banged often. Marcus never found out but she had a side chick. Every so often he would smoke a joint or drink a beer but anything that interfered with his athletics wasn’t something he was interested in doing all the time.

The only time he had strayed from what most would consider the straight and narrow, was when he joined his buddies underground fight ring; it lasted for about a year before his father discovered and forced him to end it. He had become used to hearing lectures about the legacy at this point in his life. He was also used to tuning them out.

By the time junior year rolled in for Justin, he had become heavily involved in the arts programs at his school; what little programs there truly were. He spent time developing his drawing skills and started to dabble in animation. Lucky for him, one of the teachers allowed him to download a program and use it during extracurricular after school hours. His teachers encouraged him to write more and to lean into his talent there, but he shrugged it off. He was content in finding his own way… right or wrong. He spent time developing his talent in acting at the community theater and decided to audition for his school’s junior musical. He received a supporting role; Potopher slash Joseph’s brother in Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. Somehow, even as a background actor, he managed to shine. One time the director told him to stand in front of everyone so they could watch how he reacted to the scene; after that people were beginning to buzz about him. Not as big as the jocks or the JROTC (where all the money went to), but still excellent for his reputation; or ego.

He started to hang out with upperclassmen and once word got around that he was into some fun shenanigans, his life switched lanes. By the time he auditioned senior year, he had played multiple lead roles at his community theater. This year he was given a lead role in the main show at his highschool and his performance blew everyone away. The shy, reserved, hippie everyone knew had become a talented “star” on the stage.

Marcus’ life also did a backflip senior year; unfortunately it was the kind of flip where the person loses their footing and busts out a few teeth. First game of the season Marcus dropped back for a pass; the line caved and he was hit from both sides. One went high, the other low; Marcus could’ve sworn it was intentional. His body went one direction, his leg twisted the other. He heard it before he felt it; the pop reverberated throughout his whole body and echoed in his ears. He crumpled to the ground. The whistle, shrill, sounded as if underwater. He tried to get up, putting pressure on his left leg. Pain ricocheted through his brain. He collapsed to the ground with a scream. The coaches and medics ran onto the field. It was a shattered tibia and fibula; the rest of his season was finished. His scholarships, slowly at first and almost all at once near the end, started pulling back their offers. It was going to take him almost his entire senior year to recover. No college could bank on a kid who hadn’t touched the field in a year. Especially after returning from an injury. The doctor's hopes were that he would be able to walk for graduation.

The first week after the accident he sat in his house and cried. He couldn’t remember much as the pain-meds were keeping him blacked out, but he did remember that. He spent most of his time hiding from the world and feeling useless.

Justin, never truly being the outgoing type, found a wonderful group of theater friends. They were inspired by his talent. They loved his personality, and he loved inviting them to do things they never thought they’d get to do. One of the craziest parties was when the theater kids all got together, high in the woods, drinking cheap alcohol around a warm fire. That night everyone got well acquainted. Justin woke in the morning feeling more free and happy than he could ever remember feeling. Some would call it an afterglow. The year passed quickly, but he relished every moment. He had a brief fling with a girl he had a crush on since middle-school, but messed it up when he slept with her cousin instead. He tried to get them all to be friends but that just made things worse. Even though he wasn’t everyone's favorite, mostly the people who hooked up looking for love and were swiftly denied, by the time senior year was drawing to a close Justin had become popular in his own rite.

Marcus discovered quickly that most of the people he surrounded himself with weren’t his real friends; they only wanted to be around him when he was popular and had clout. Similar to how his friends in the private academy had been. Now that he wasn’t winning games, now that he wasn’t a “star” anymore, he found himself as an outcast; reliving a loop. He could often be found rehabilitating himself in the gym weight room, alone. He wheeled then hobbled himself home from school, alone. He attended physical therapy and dealt with the pain and the emotions that accompany trauma, alone. He even ate lunch alone, save for the few people who couldn’t find an empty table. Reality and adversity had met at an intersection, crashing into each other at high speeds, and he wasn’t equipped to handle it.

He started thinking about his life; he put so much weight into what highschool was and how he hadn’t planned for much after. He thought about what his legacy would look like now. He felt emotions, rising from somewhere deep in his subconscious. Emotions he had never dealt with before; scars from a forgotten past. They manifested as physical tightness in his chest and pain in his shattered leg. He went to the nearest gun shop and bought a small pistol; something he could easily conceal. He went to the nearest range and haggled his way in. He thought about ending his life. The first time the cold barrel pressed against his temple, images of loved ones flashed through his mind. He couldn’t.

Justin found himself often spending time with more and more people. His parents were thrilled to see him blossoming and excited that he had made so many new friends. They should have been laying down some boundaries because Justin was developing unhealthy habits, but the blinders were up. He went out on dates, watched movies, hiked trails, sang karaoke; he smoked a lot of weed and had a lot of sex. The parties got crazier and crazier. Not just forest bonfires anymore, but full on house parties; like the ones you see in the movies. Never once did they get caught. People started volunteering to host events because they knew Justin had the hook up and apparently protection from the party gods themselves. He would often receive texts from random numbers saying one friend or another sent them. It was always interesting to meet new people this way. He would often have them swing by the firepit and smoke one while they waited for their purchase. None of these buyers ever became more than holiday friends, but Justin found being surrounded by people a very nice contradiction to his earlier years of loneliness.

Marcus couldn’t pull himself out of the darkness of his emotional state and instead started drinking. Mom would ask if everything was okay. Dad would ask if everything was okay. He would convince them it was or get angry enough that they’d leave him alone. He was more stressed and more depressed than he had ever been and he felt as though he had nowhere to turn; it bubbled inside of him on the daily. He often found himself waking up with a hangover and a gun in his hand; it seemed like holding onto that gun was the only thing that could bring his mind peace. His relationship was doomed. After one of the bad arguments Marcus’ girlfriend decided that they needed to take a break. Marcus said some nasty things and threatened her with the gun. She locked herself in the bathroom, rightfully so. He threatened to break the door down and when she threatened to call the cops, he actually did. She filed a restraining order and they never spoke again. Later that week, he heard of a party going on so he swung by, already tipsy, to check it out.

Justin watched as Marcus hobbled his way through the door. He was feeling pretty good that the star quarterback was attending his party and better yet because party mode was activated. Justin had noticed Marcus eating alone at lunch lately; he even thought about sitting with him one day but decided against it. Why would the star quarterback want to be seen with him? He looked like he was going through tough times so Justin was happy to see him out and only using one crutch. He remembered back to a few times when they were little and rolled together during class. Marcus didn’t know, but Justin had progressed quickly because he was his partner. Plus, he was always a nice person, even though he had a legacy and his family was unkind. He smirked a bit, as one often does at good memories of their past, and headed to the backyard to enjoy the rest of the party at his typical spot around the bonfire.

Marcus ended up getting super drunk; black out drunk at some points in the evening. He remembered waking up in a random bedroom upstairs. He stumbled into a painting on the way out and knocked it off the wall. He thought he took a tumble down the stairs, but couldn’t remember. Had he punched someone when they tried to help him? He did remember throwing up somewhere outside before stumbling into his parent’s car. Unfortunately nobody saw him. Halfway to his house he needed to puke again, a stomach drop so quick and deep that he felt as if he was being launched into space, so he pulled over. It was in his mouth before he even opened the door. It came exploding out, splashing onto the concrete beneath the driver's side door. The lights flashed behind him; red, white and blue. A high-beam spotlight pierced to the center of his drunk skull as it fell upon him. He narced on the party thinking it would get him out of the trouble he was in. It didn’t.

After failing his field test, Marcus was placed into the back of a squad car and hauled off to the drunk tank until his parents showed up to bail him out. His mother coddled him and tried to help him the best way she knew how, but Marcus never felt more ashamed, embarrassed, and alone than he did now and he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help. He needed to be perfect. He needed to be tough. He needed to suck it up.

The cops showed up at Justin’s house about an hour after the party had fizzled out. He was asleep on a friendly girl’s chest (she smelled like candy and alcohol.) when they arrived. He woke up to his friend shaking him aggressively, panicking like any highschooler afraid of going to jail would. He went downstairs to answer a few useless questions before the cops decided they had better things to do. Justin stumbled his way back to bed, none the wiser that Marcus had just been taken to jail. As he slid under the covers, he was greeted with a warm hand on his chest and a soft moan. He rolled over onto the girl and they had a wonderful night together. He fell asleep shortly after, replaying the night in his mind. Only thing damaged was one painting in the upstairs hallway. Friends of his who had never partied were passed out on his living room floor. Party games galore and the afterparty, well that’s a story for another time. Yes, tonight was a success.

Word quickly spread throughout the school about Marcus’ DUI and other troubles with the police. People viewed him not as a spirited highschooler but more of a violent criminal. It was the hot topic in the hallways and everyone followed him with their eyes as he passed by. He could feel the pressure and popped a hood over his head, hobbling everywhere he went and gazing down at the floor. He could hear people giggling every so often. Others showed him no mercy by bumping into him, one time sending him toppling to the floor. People knew he had it coming from his days of bullying and spoiled brat behavior, so empathy was slim. He had started walking with only one crutch, but nobody gave him credit for that did they?! Just the old faded star. The broken quarterback. The boy without a legacy.

He was pulled into the principal's office a couple days after he returned. They asked him questions about the party. He told them anything he could to try and keep himself out of trouble, but eventually he was given 14 days in school suspension with the consequence of being unable to walk at his highschool graduation. Was this helpful in any way? Definitely not. Maybe the school felt they needed to make a stand and decided to use Marcus as their sacrifice; maybe they just wanted to flex their authority. Marcus felt as if he had been pushed beneath the surface and drowned all over again.

The football team won the championship later that week; something they had never accomplished in Marcus’ time with the team. Marcus cried alone, driving his hand into his bedroom wall several times; gun resting on his dresser.

Justin was pulled into the office the same day as Marcus and asked about the party and the accusations made against him. He admitted to having a simple gathering. When the principal tried to pressure more out of him he told him what he did on his own time was none of the dude's business; he was eighteen now and knew the school couldn’t do much unless they were taking legal action. That was far from worth it for a house party that had already happened. When asked, he didn’t admit to seeing Marcus at the party but told the truth when he said he didn’t see him leave. The principal punished him six days of in school suspension without taking away his ability to walk at graduation. Justin was grateful that he didn’t receive worse for admitting to an under age gathering and left the office feeling relieved; in school suspension felt like a vacation this close to the end of the year. There was a constant nagging feeling that kept making him feel bad that it was his party that got Marcus in trouble. He tried to convince himself it was Marcus’ dumb decision to leave being that intoxicated, but still couldn’t shake the guilt.

Marcus and Justin shared the same room for four days before Justin built up the nerve to apologize. Did he do it because he wanted to shed the guilty conscience or did he actually feel bad for Marcus? He wasn’t quite sure, but he felt driven to do it anyway. They would pass each other every morning in the hall before entering. Justin thought about doing it then but chickened out. One day they arrived at the classroom around the same time and had an awkward exchange. Justin opened his mouth to say something but stood there, mouth agape and brain blank. Marcus raised an eyebrow and Justin held the door for him as he hobbled into the room where they served out their sentence. Justin was always smiling and trying to be friendly, but Marcus was angry.

The cauldron inside had boiled over long ago. He didn’t care to flash a smile or a friendly nod. He was in pain physically and emotionally. Just being around other people only made it worse. He had developed agoraphobia; something any psychiatrist or psychologist could have diagnosed had he ever seen one. The universe just kept pouring more liquid into an already overflowing kettle and not expecting those around him to get burned. He was consumed with mania and nowhere to direct it. The day Justin decided to apologize, he approached Marcus cautiously. His head was down in a notebook, writing what appeared to be a long letter.

“Marcus.” He uttered low. Marcus looked up, expressionless and cold; that had become his default. Justin steadied himself. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry. I know it was my party that got you in trouble and I feel kind of guilty. Had you not been there that night, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.” Or maybe they would’ve turned out exactly the same.

“Are you able to walk at graduation?” He mumbled. Justin not answering told Marcus everything he needed to know.

“That’s so unfair of them to do that.” He was trying to empathize but it creeped Justin out how dead Marcus’ eyes looked. He was staring past Justin at the whiteboard attached to the front wall; daydreaming about what, Justin wondered. “I really am sorry, man.” The bell rings. Marcus allows a moment of silence before he closes his notebook, sticks it in his backpack and tosses it over his shoulder. He grabs his crutch and extends his hand.

“Thank you for the apology. I’m sorry also.” Justin smiled, returning the shake. He felt a bit of peace knowing that everything was okay between the two of them. He went home and lived out his usual routine; guilty conscience gone. If only Justin had known Marcus was apologizing for something else, maybe he would’ve spent his last evening doing something different.

The next day Marcus brought his gun to school and shot everyone in the room. Justin had just enough time to see Marcus’ face before the gunshot. He remembered hearing his body crumple to the floor and expected pain. Instead he found a soothing numbness and began to fade as the smell of gunpowder filled the air. He thought how terrifying it was to see the lifeless expression on Marcus’ face before hearing the gun go off. The same one as yesterday… staring aimlessly at the whiteboard at the front of the room; is this what he was daydreaming about? Justin’s blood seeped across the white tile floor as he ascended to the arms of death.

Marcus turned and shot the teacher and the two other students who were in the room as they tried to flee; the same terrifying expressionless gaze in his eyes. He slid the teachers desk in front of the door and stacked all the others on top and around it; throwing them in a fit of psychotic rage as he began to return to reality. Fully aware of what he had done; aware not just in his mind but in his soul. Nobody tried to stop him. Nobody noticed the signs. Maybe they did and refused to assist. Maybe Marcus was truly alone. Did anybody really care? No matter how many people pretended, nobody really did, did they?.

He turned off his phone and smashed it. There was only one manic delusion he could think of and this was it. At least he’d add to that family legacy his dad always cared so much to ramble on about. He put the gun to the bottom of his chin and pulled the trigger. Marcus’ body slumped on the floor, his blood seeping across the white tile and mixing together with Justins. He was conscious for a time; watching the world fade out around him like a movie fading to black. The room becomes still and a solemn silence falls over the scene. Five bodies in under two minutes. Four young lives snuffed out with a simple squeeze of the finger.

Justin and Marcus went to the same school but were two very different people. Maybe it was the friends they chose to surround themselves with, maybe it was the parenting, maybe it was fate. No. What really caused this tragedy was a broken system that failed to live up to its promise.