Revenge   
School has never been easy on me, always throwing tests and assignments at me that I'll never even do. I'm failing half my classes and slipping by with a low C in the rest. I can't say that I have many friends if any. I'm the kid who'll take hits and names and fight back. I like to think that I'm tough and brave and what not, but I'm not. 
    At home #1, I put up with mom. She isn't too bad, but she still isn't pleasant to be around. She's an alcoholic and lost her drivers license at least twice. She lives in a small, two room apartment. She's a real nice person, just when she has a bottle in her hand, things can get interesting. My dad, who now is some person that used to care about me, lives in this sorry excuse for an apartment. I can only hope that he's in a good mood and not show me his belt. I normally end up at the old worn down park across the street from the general store. I've stayed there overnight a couple times, though my parents never noticed.
    One day, however, after stopping at the general store to pick up a can of red bull, I walk across the street towards the equipment when this middle-aged guy who must be some type of official walks by. He asks if I live around here. Judging by his expensive suit and belt with all sorts of gadgets on it, I say no. Then the man takes a step towards the park and just keeps taking steps.
    By this point I'm a little suspicious, "What do you want?" I try to sound calm but I'm pretty sure if anyone else saw someone with a tranquilizer gun in a holster, they would be a bit skittish as well. My past isn't the best, I've vandalized a coupled police cars and maybe the government building. I've already done my hours for the police. I can't come up with anything else I need to do. "I've already served my hours, if thats what you're wonderin'"
    But then he spoke again, his voice a little horse as he speaks. "I'm not with the government, and I'm not here for you. I need to know where your father lives."
    By now I'm getting a little nervous and am ready to get out of here, I don't even realize that this guy has his taser gun out of its holster, pointed at my left arm. And by the precise way he's holding the thing, I get the feeling he's been trained to not miss. I turn to hide behind the slide to at least try to get some sense of security. Though when I try to stay behind the slide when I turn and run, I hear a faint click and instantaneously feel a jolt of pain shoot up my right arm. I scream as I spill to the ground.
    "Next time, just tell me where he lives." The man walks by me and stands by me, looks down at me with a disapproving look; then he just walks past. I lay there, craning my neck to watch him get into a sleek black car that had pulled up and pull away like shooting teenagers is an everyday task for him.
    After about 10 minutes I get some feeling back in my arm, there’s some sticky stuff on my fingertips, and I feel around for my phone to call the cops. It's not there, it must have gotten out of my pocket. I look around a bit, but it's gone. Maybe that guy took it. But when would he get the chance? Right now though, I need to get to my dads.
    My knees are sore from that fall, I must've landed just right. All this running doesn't help either. I'm hoping against hope that that agent guy didn't really take my phone and doesn't know where to go, or that I beat him there. I cut through the woods and cut some backyards and within minutes I'm home. No car. That's a good sign. I don't see my dad through the living room window though. Not a good sign. Maybe he's takin' a dump or something. I rush up the front porch and attempt the door. Of course it's locked, and of course this is the one time I don't have a key! I scream at the door but no one comes to let me in.
    I keep thinking to myself that he's probably off drinking a little too much and forget the way back home. I keep telling myself these things but I know that they're not true. "Dad! Come on!" I crush both of my fists against the door, half expecting them to open. If the man had the guts to shoot a teen without batting an eye, the thought of what he'd do to someone supposedly 'wanted' is an awful image. After gathering my thoughts and I pull my act together, I jog over to the library to do some research.   
    First, google. I google my dads name, Henry Nerve, But nothing especially exciting pops up. I look up my name, then my moms, I find no clue as of where my father is or who that guy was. I shut down the computer and turn to run to my moms house, that's when the man came in.
    "Gregory Nerve, we need to see you a moment." For once, I'm actually a little relieved to be questioned by the police. I walk over to the cop and then he says in a low whisper, "Son, We're gonna take you to your mothers. We have some news to deliver. And we think you may need to hear it too." We step outside and the officer pulls me away from the door. "Son, your father's dead." He goes on to say something else, but I tune him out. I instantly feel empty and feel like im going to collapse. Leaning against the rough brick for support, I feel tears creep up behind my eyes and I don't hold them back. The tiny droplets of water stream out right in front of the cop like a faucet. I don't even feel ashamed. Even if this is my first time weeping in front of someone.
    The officer drives me through the familiar streets of my mothers neighborhood, while I sit in the even more familiar back seat of the squad car. I sit mindlessly staring out the window, still trembling from this recent knowledge of my dad’s whereabouts.
    “Where is his body?” I don’t attempt to hide my sorrow now.
    “Pardon?” He looks at me and I think it registered. “Oh! Your dad. He was found with string marks around his neck, on the ground outside of the bar.” Another moment passes, he talks about this as if he’s talking about the sunday morning news. “It was obvious with the bruises on his face and chest that it was a murder and were looking for him now.”
    I tell him as we approach moms house about my encounter with the man at the park. Give him a full description and everything.
    “And do you have any idea of who this man might be? A name possibly?” This cop is stupid. He just sits there in the apartments parking lot; then he just unlocks the door and lets me out. “We are going to question you tonight at 7:00, we’ll send a squad car to come and pick you up. Hopefully you’ll be more cooperative.”
I spend the 20 minutes of freedom I have before I get back in a police car laying on the couch thinking about any time me and dad had a decent time together. I lay there till I hear a He leads me to his squad car and I get in, still trembling from the recent knoledge on my dads whereabouts. He drives me down the familiar streets while I sit in the even more familiar barred off back seat of the car. knock on the door.  couldn’t think of anything.
At the station, they ask me same old questions that every cop is required to ask, but then, this officer asks me something different. “To what extent would you go to keep your father alive?” I’m caught off guard by this one, and I sit there across the table for a couple minutes. Then the answer came to me, just as much as he would.
“I wouldn’t bother.” I tell him with as much disgust as I can muster. I push back from the table and walk out the door. I can hear the interrogator call after me but I don't turn around, I start to run. People yell at me as I burst out the doors and when I hear the sirens go off on nearby cop cars, I realize that they have this all wrong. The man who killed my dad must’ve taken my fingerprints. That’s the only reason why that I can come up with that makes an ounce of sense.
I scream back at them; “I didn’t kill my father! I never would’ve done that! He’s my dad!” I realize that I gave the wrong answer in my questioning. ‘To what extent would you go to keep your father alive?’. I gave them a great reason to believe that I killed my dad. But what did he have to hide besides being an alcoholic? Why would anyone target such a worthless man as him? I decide that it’s best not to think about it right now considering the three police cars on my tail.
This is nothing new, police chasing me that is. I mastered the art of escape a long time ago, the only thing different now than before, is that they know who they're going after. I cut through the woods and through the park. I keep running once I get through to the other side, dodging a couple cars on the road and sliding between a dumpster and a store as I run through an alley. With any luck, I can still get into the library without being questioned by the librarian.
I guess I do still have some luck as I walk into the library to get some info. I get to a computer and type frantically. I type my dads name in and then moms, and then my dads friends names that he drinks with. After about five minutes I type in the company dad was last employed at. He worked for this chain called ‘High Five’. It’s like a dollar store. I do some more research and I find the founder of the store, Carson Meyer. “Oh my God.”
Long story short, when my dad got his drivers license back, he had had a few drinks to celebrate. He drove home sober and may have hit and killed Sarah Meyer, his daughter. The thing is, nobody knew he hit her except Carson and him. Carson, being the founder of one of the most prosperous chain stores in America, is pretty damn rich. The rumor is, he’s been trying to find my dad for a long time and is looking to kill him.
Now, I think, all I have to do is get this to the police and hope for the best. Luckily, I don't have to bring this to them, they came to me. They open the door and look around. Almost instantly they see me and I don’t try running. Instead, pointing to the screen, I say, “I didn’t kill him, and I can prove it.” The police don’t believe it. So they walk cautiously over to the monitor and read what’s on the page. I have a gun pointed at my head but I try to ignore it.
“Well?” I ask a little too harshly. “Do you believe me? You’ve seen the truth. And why would I kill my dad? All he is is a worthless piece of junk. There’s no reason to kill him.” They squad looks at their captain, unsure of what to do.
“Cuff ‘em” One of the cops goes  for my hand but I push him away.
“Don’t you see? There is your killer!” Pointing my finger at Carson’s picture. I see the police officers look a little uncertain.
“He didn’t kill him, he has nothing on his record that would even hint that he would. Carson, however, has been rumored to be planning to kill Henry. It makes sense what the kid’s trying to say.” The guy who is backing me up seems to be some sort of analyst. But then I feel a needle in my neck, and I’m knocked out cold.
I wake up in a cell bed and get up to look out the barred door. There is a TV somewhere that I can hear if I hold my breath. “Carson Meyer, founder of the store ‘High Five’ is taken under custody by the californian police for being charged with murder. Henry Nerve, the man Cason wanted dead was killed by a hitman by the name, Lukas N. Desgar, who has also been taken under custody for murder. In the mean time, the weather here in California is…” I’m relieved by this news statement. But I’m also a little scared. Afterall, I still am in this cell.

Two Weeks Later
Life in the past two weeks hasn’t been too too bad, the meals are a little gross and stale, but other than that, not awful. I’m spending the time in prison for the crimes from the past. But other than that, I’m home free. Today is the day I get to go back to moms house. Which is a little frightening because if she noticed I’ve been gone for two weeks, she may be a little upset.

Three Weeks Later
I’ve been home for a good 21 days now, and my mom is in a counseling group that will hopefully get rid of her drinking habits. While I’m going back to school and actually getting a B in some of my classes. In the end, everything fell into place and worked out just fine. Though I may be on the hate list of a few people, I feel pretty good about this new life. Still, I’m just starting to get over being without a dad, and to be honest, I think it’s better this way. We decided we wanted him cremated and had a funeral for him, not many attended except mom and I and a few of his friends. I hated him for what he’d done, but I still loved him. And I always will.