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The Boy With the Dead Eyes

by Scorpio 5 years ago in psychology
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Part One–Dylan

Chapter 1: Life Before

In the year of 2050, I live on edge. Constantly scared of what could happen to me the moment I set foot outside my door. My village, Crestmont, is extremely racially diverse. However the African American and Latino families are under a high surveillance. I always wondered why we were watched constantly, like prison inmates.We tend to stay out of trouble because we all know, that once the cops have us, we are no longer safe. This was all the doing of president Hades. He believed that by telling us that he was helping the minorities, that we would become oblivious and blind to what his real motives were. I was always that naive and optimistic girl in the neighborhood. I didn't want to believe what everyone told me. They all knew that I would have to experience, how not only our village, but our world treats us in order to understand. Boy were they right. I wish I would have believed them. But instead I had to witness the self destruction of the one person I had in this world: Dylan.

Dylan Aberanagchy was a 16-year-old boy. One of the star players on the lacrosse team alongside his best friend Riylon. He had luminous jet black hair that could shine for days. His subtle and natural caramel skin tone caused by his mixture of Trinidadian and Puerto Rican genetics, made every physical aspect standout. Most of the girls here at Crestmont High seemed to think that he was the most attractive guy in school. They never really knew anything about him. I, however seemed to catch every little thing he did. He always kept to himself and managed to stay out of trouble, most of the time. He had many secrets and problems that were kept in the dark. He was a fairly good student with a great chance of getting into a profound college. If I remember correctly he wanted to go to Boulevard University to obtain a degree in Medical Engineering. However, the events leading up to September 25, 2050 terminated any chances of his future. I was told from Riylon Canova who used to be Dylan's closest friend that Dylan had gotten to the breaking point. He couldn't take it. All though he kept to himself and stayed out of trouble, high school hooligans and trouble seemed to taunt and overwhelm him. He felt as if the bullies he faced every waking day of his life began to close in on him. It wasn't only the bullies it was also, the worldly and societal troubles that seemed to seep in between the cracks that weren't properly closed. No, he didn't become psychotic and run around school with a gun. However, these events will go down in the history of how Dylan Aberanagchy became known as the boy with the dead eyes. He wasn't depressed, or crazy if that's what you're thinking. From what I have learned, Dylan had been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder at a young age, and that up until now, had always been a mild case. Me myself, I have known Dylan all my life we used to have little sleepovers in the past years. I always liked to think that we had both developed a few tablespoons of feelings or more over the years. No matter how I tried to deny, I always knew that I had feelings for him. May I even dare to say that I loved Dylan Aberanagchy. Anyway, back to what I was saying. Within those 16 years that I knew him I never once suspected the thought of him having a mental illness, it just never dawned on me that something was wrong. Well until now. You see I know Dylan, well knew him for years. There was a reason behind his sudden behavior a few weeks ago. The court and police officers may not see it but I do. The court automatically declared that he be sentenced to the death penalty without further investigation into Dylan Aberanagchy's life to figure out the cause. Although he's dead I will put the truth out there for his sake. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. I'll start with the beginning of everything: 8th grade year to be exact.

Chapter 2: The 8th Grade Year

During 8th grade year the whole nation was going through what we called the separation. It was a year filled with rallies, riots and boycotts, sometimes violent but often times peaceful. Everyone was divided; whites against the rest. The president I would like to refer to as Hades due to his latest antics, ordered for all races, except for whites, get new licenses, IDs, addresses, etc. He said that it was all apart of the nations improvements for equality. But everyone knew that it wasn't, especially when you couldn't go outside or walk down the street without seeing a police car trailing behind you. It seemed as though day-by-day, the minorities had less rights and power. It's hard to sit back and let someone slowly make you feel less human. Dylan Hated it. He would always tell me that if he could he would assassinate President Hades. He never understood why he felt so threatened by us. He knew that no one would take a stand, or try and say anything about it at our age. So he took matters into his own hands. He always had opinions that clashed with everyone else's. I remember it like it was yesterday, our English teacher Mrs. Tucker had us all write essay's; essays about anything, there were no boundaries or limitations, the cards were in our hands. Majority of our classmates wrote about video games, holograms, or the abrupt stop of deportation. But Dylan, Dylan Aberanagchy took his cards and threw them into a blender. His essay called out President Hades, police officers, and the commoners. I remember his exact words I'm pretty sure everyone did: "You can separate us, watch us like hawks, kill us but it won't change anything about this horrid nation. The truth is that everyone is scared: the commoners, the president, the officers they are scared that they will get overpowered and be known as the "uncommoners". No matter how hard you try and knock us down and degrade us, there will always be people like me. Who will take a stand and won't stop until people like the commoners or the president understand. I would take pity on all of them and pray for them. But why would I want the best for the biggest cowards in the nation."His words, those words left the classroom silent, you could practically hear a thumbtack hit the floor. You see Dylan's essay on such a controversial topic was the start of his never-ending torment. Four of the communities' kids hated every spoken letter, syllable and sentence that spewed from his mouth. Damon was one of the four boys that bullied Dylan. He told me that he never knew or understood why he thought that he could waltz into school and read such a essay like that. He not only disrespected their fathers but he did it in front of them and the whole entire class. Ever since that day, they vowed to make his life miserable and to make him regret ever uttering a word of his stupid essay. They lived up to their word; everyday they would pick on him and beat him up at anytime. Everyone saw but no one helped. Who would, they are all the sons of the top police officers in Crestmont. If we were to interfere their dads could have us locked up or worse in a matter of hours. But I can't help but wonder what would have happened if one person, a single person, had stepped up and helped. His own best friend wouldn't even help. All he needed was one person.

Chapter 3: High School

Let's fast forward to the beginning of 9th grade year. Dylan was on the lacrosse team and doing good in school. Girls and guys would chase after him like a lost puppy, but never ceased to get his attention. The bullying had died down, but never really went away. At least it wasn't as bad. But just as things were getting good a tornado of trouble came into town and knocked right on Dylan's front door. The Queen B of Crestmont High, Vivika Trenton. She had all the boys at her beck and call, Damon had an enormous crush on her. I'm pretty sure everyone did. Iliven, Scott and Malik where the boys that made up the rest of the gang of goons that tormented Dylan. When they overheard that Vivika liked Dylan Aberanagchy they went straight to Damon. They told the truth about Vivika taking a liking to Dylan but they lied when they told Damon that he was going to ask her out. Iliven told me that upon hearing the news Damon told his boys that he was no longer taking it easy on him. How he had toned it down a bit after the eighth grade year incident. But he was in no way, shape or form going to let him take the girl he liked and disrespect his father within two years. Once again all hell broke loose for Dylan, but it couldn't have come at a worse time. I talked with Riylon about this particular school day. He told me that the morning before school was the twentieth time within the month that his father had abused him. Dylan had been mentally and emotionally abused since he was eight. I personally witnessed it many times. The things they said made my stomach churn, no matter what age, no child should feel as broken and damaged as Dylan did. He was made to believe that he was nothing and a mistake. From what Riylon told me it took him years to build up one ounce of self-esteem. But that morning's events had knocked him down a few pegs. I noticed that things were off with him that day but figured that it was nothing important. It could have been a bad game or from a lack of sleep. But in reality he was in pain not only mentally but physically too. From what Riylon told me, Dylan had came to school with humungous black and purple bruises, the size of grapefruits all over his abdomen. With a few lacerations on his rib cage and lower back. As you know it's the year of 2050 which means that many changes have been made to the laws of our nation. This change has made it legal for parents to physically beat their children as a form of discipline. Laws were put in place to stop parents from abusing their young. But you see, just because you put laws in place doesn't mean people aren't going to break them. For instance the human body, held up by the skeletal system; Just because there are layers of skin and muscle surrounding them and major bodily organs encased within them, doesn't necessarily mean that you can't break or damage any part of it. Dylan was that body he was broken inside and out, with one more hit he was sure to fall apart. I'm sure that Dylan hoped and prayed that tomorrow would be a better day but unfortunately that wouldn't happen. Damon and his gang of goons left him alone for the remainder of the day. However the next day during class break, Damon got his revenge. It was cruel and heartbreaking to hear and witness. When I interrogated him a few days ago, Scott Evergreen broke down their whole plan to me. They had all went to the anterior of the school until they reached the intercom. Their plan was to humiliate Dylan in front of the whole school. It was the perfect plan. They would reveal one of the star lacrosse players' deepest secrets and problems. No one would ever view him the same. I didn't need to ask Scott to tell me what they had said. I had heard it, in fact the whole school did. Every letter, word, sentence, every sound wave that emitted from the school speakers were permanently inscribed into my brain. No matter how hard I tried those words would never leave. His exact words were, "Sadly sadly, Dylan isn't dandy. He's an uncommoner for sure, cause he's dark like his daddy. You thought I was done but I've only begun. You see I know that your dad beats on you like a holographic drum. I'm almost done. So you can save your tears. But I wonder which one of you will be crying tonight. Wait was it a secret that you have more than one personality. Sorry bud you should have thought twice. Maybe next time you won't take it for granted when I'm playing nice." My initial thought upon hearing it was, how could he, he didn't have the right. So what if he's an uncommoner, no one should have their privacy be made public against their will. Of course these thoughts were never heard by another. Everyone heard but no one acted. Someone should have called Damon out, I should have called him out, in fact anyone should have. Truth is after Damon's announcement it was all that everyone talked about. Saying how they wanted to help. How they couldn't believe someone would do that. How they wished they would have gave Dylan reassurance that everything was going to be okay. But what was the use. Why bother wasting your breath talking about what you should've done and what you wanted to do when you weren't going to do it. The look on Dylan's face however is what really broke my heart. The way he stormed out of Crestmont High that day, you could practically feel the earth's gravitational pull stopping every time his foot hit the ground. If we lived in a holographic cartoon I wouldn't doubt the fact that a gargantuan amount of steam would be oozing from his ears. But after he walked out he wasn't seen by anyone after. Well he was seen by seven people that night but we aren't there yet. You see Dylan was most likely the only one within this hell damned nation to live up to his words. I will always commend him for that, no matter what he did within his lifetime, I would always commend him. The school day had ended, I thought that all the chatter would have died down by the end of the day. But what was I expecting, we are all teenagers in high school, we practically lived off of drama. I went home that night, with Dylan stuck in my head. I really wanted to help but it was too big of a risk. All I wanted to do was sleep and forget all about this horrid day. I guess life had other plans for me.

Chapter 4: The Night to Remember

I know you are probably wondering what my role is in this situation. Yes I'm doing this for Dylan the truth deserves to be heard, but this is also for me. This is my way of saying sorry, of making up for my mistakes. This is the moment you have been waiting for. I'm going to tell you it in my own words, what happened. You see I was there for all of the events. I saw, I heard, I even touched but never once did I help. This is what happened on September 20th, 2050, five days before the 25th.

That same night that I wanted to forget everything is the same night that Dylan Aberanagchy knocked on my door. Before opening the door I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Dylan was at his worst. Both of his eyes were black and purple, I could tell he had a broken rib from the way he was holding his side. There was blood on his shirt, dripping from his mouth and dried blood on his cheeks. Without thinking I embraced him. I didn't know what had happened but I just knew that he needed someone. I took him up to my room where I proceeded to clean his cuts and bandage his ribs. I needed to know what happened so I asked. "Did your dad do this Dylan?" those were my exact words. I wasn't shocked by what he said. If anything I saw it coming. Not only did his dad beat him, Damon and his goons had finished the job. I could tell he was mad, but this wasn't the Dylan I remembered. His eyes were dark and lifeless. It was as if the last piece of humanity he had within him was taken and thrown into the ocean. At the time I brushed it off, but now I understand. Dylan had become cold, dark and lifeless as a way to cope. He had been through a lot within his 16 years of life. Over time he had developed this alternate personality, that was the complete opposite of himself. This personality did what he wanted and never got walked over. Dylan had kept him hidden and stashed in the back of his brain. But that day's events seem to have finally given it access to come through and make itself known. After I fixed him up, he got up and was ready to leave. But I stopped him. I begged him to tell me what's wrong, why he seemed different. His words stunned me, I was frozen in place, it was like I was paralyzed with fear and discomfort. He told me that he loved me, that he had always loved me. That he's sorry and knows that after tonight I would never look at him the same. Of course, those words made me happy, who wouldn't be happy after finding out that your life long crush loves you. But that's not what paralyzed me. It was his plans for tonight. He told me in detail what he was going to do, who he was going to do it to and why. I didn't want to believe it, but part of me did. He walked out with a simple "bye", being the last thing he said to me. I couldn't find the courage to say anything back so I let him leave. When I finally came to it, I realized that Dylan might actually go through with his plan. I did what any stupid teenager would do. I followed him. The sights that I saw, were scenes straight out of a horror movie, and they scarred me for life. By the time I got out of my house, Dylan was half way down the street. He had a duffle bag with a camouflage print all over it. I didn't want him to notice me, so I stayed a few feet behind. It's not like I didn't know where I was going, he was headed towards the skate park. So far he was sticking to his plan. You know that feeling, when you can tell something bad was going to happen. When you feel as if a meteorite has crash landed in your stomach. That's how I felt within this moment. I was behind a recycling bin when I saw, Dylan sit on one of the park benches and pull out two hand grenades. He didn't bother to hide them, it was like all his fear and worry had been drained from his body. He sat and he waited, he knew that eventually Damon and his goons would show up. When they finally showed up. That's when I knew that Dylan's plans were going to become a reality. He never understood why they hated him so much. He didn't know why they went after him over an opinion that he was entitled to have. He told me how they hated him and made his life hell for no reason, they had absolutely no reason to treat him this way. But it didn't stop them, so he was going to take matters into his own hands. He said that if they wanted a reason to hate him, then they were going to get one. Based off of Dylan's plans, they surely were going to have a reason now. They approached him and immediately started teasing him, Dylan sat there taking it all in, with a smirk on his face. With one smooth swipe, he grabbed the grenades and tossed it at them. He softly told them, " I wouldn't want to be holding that if I were you." He immediately burst out into laughter as the grenade went off. He couldn't stop, he found it amusing to see his bullies rolling on the ground in tears. He stood up and revealed his handgun. Damon and his gang stiffened and you could practically smell their fear. With anger, Dylan yelled, "Sadly, sadly Damon and his goons aren't dandy. I will give you till the count of three, before my gun starts snapping. Wait, save some of your tears for your daddies. I've been kept bay for too long and it's been too long since I stood up. So you decide. Now. Who dies, because I'm done playing nice!" He held the gun up as the boys ran in fear. Although they were trouble and bad to the bone, seeing Malik's lifeless body on the ground, brought tears to my eyes. They had broken him over the years and yes they deserved to be in hell more than anyone else I know. But it hurt, why didn't I help. I don't exactly know. I just stood behind the same recycling bin and watched someone die, watched a group of kids get bombed, watched the love of my life do all of this and I watched him run off to his next location. I didn't know if I should run off with Dylan or stay with Malik. So I did what I thought was best. I called the cops and waited for them to arrive. Malik's dad was infuriated and demanded me to tell him who did it. I lied straight to his face. I told him that I didn't see anyone, that I had just got here and saw him on the ground. Before he could have interrogated me more I ran off, I needed to find Dylan. However, I was far too late. His house was already engulfed in flames, I couldn't figure out where it started and when it would end. The flask on the porch indicated where it started. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear the petrifying screams of his parents. During the moment I had no idea why he did it. He had only told me that he was going to burn down a house. That's when I noticed him sitting on the sidewalk, watching his house and parents burn. I ran, I ran as fast as I could and brought him into a hug. Both of my knees were bleeding but I didn't care. I screamed at him. Asking why, why he did it. I could here the firefighters and cops speeding down the street. But I didn't care I needed to know. These were his last words before he was taken away. " I did it for me. For once I did something for me. My parents didn't care. To them, I'm a mistake and deserve every cut and bruise I get. So I had to show them. They needed to feel how I felt every night I got hit, every night, they broke me down until I felt like nothing. They needed to feel the pain and suffering I felt. They knew that I couldn't go to the police because of the separation. They knew that no one would believe me because I'm colored. Haha, cause you know anyone who ain’t white can't possibly have mental disorders or get abused. Now they understand and they now know how it feels to know that no one can help you. As for Damon and his goons. I'm sure you know. You were there. You stood and watched from a few feet away. You saw every movement I made. Hell Skylar, you knew my whole plan. So my question to you is why. Why didn't you stop me? You could have prevented all of this. So why didn't you?" Before I could respond he was taken away. I was left there bleeding and crying on the sidewalk. Asking myself the same question: why? The truth is I was just like everyone else. I was scared and a coward. I would rather observe and say nothing, instead of doing the right thing. I should have done the right thing.

Chapter 5: The Aftermath

That night was the lowest I've ever been. I walked home with blood dripping down my knees, tear stained cheeks with fresh tears about to fall, the memory of Dylan’s face, and a brain that constantly asked me what my problem is and why I did nothing but watch. Five days later, was the public viewing of Dylan Aberanagchy's death penalty. Prior to this date, no one spoke to him, he didn't want a lawyer. He knew going into this that he had no chance of making it out alive. As he sat in the cold metal seat, restrained from moving with an IV sticking out of his arm, ready to pump the liquid that would soon end his life. He had a devilish grin on his face. You couldn't see an inch of guilt, regret, fear or sadness on him. If anything he was already dead, the only difference was that today what he felt on the inside would finally match the outside. It's sad, we all could have helped prevent Dylan's actions, but fear kept us at bay. Which in turn kept us from jumping into an ocean, filled with people waiting to be helped. The only true regret I have in life is not helping the love of my life. Even though I knew everything, every detail, and every feeling. I had multiple chances to help but I didn't and now I have to live with that. My grandparents told me how things were 43 years ago. It's disturbing and depressing to know that nothing has changed. This nation that we call home is just as selfish as it used to be and history seems to keep repeating itself: Racism, bullying, abuse, segregation. It's all still around, it never truly went away. Although it's not as violent as it used to be. The conditions, the negligence of everyone's lives, and terms of everything are evidently worse compared to the past. When will it ever stop? When will people learn to change? When will people learn that everyone is equally as important as they are? No matter how hard I search for an answer, I'm afraid that the truth may be that it's never going to stop, people aren't going to change and they will forever be selfish.

psychology

About the author

Scorpio

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