Four

Seeing Red I

The streets of Chicago were a very scary place, a very scary place indeed.

"Put your hands in the air!" The officer shouted

"Look, I ain't done anything wrong!" Blood covered his fists as he held the unconscious fellow gang member by his collar. A purple dragon tattoo covered the assailant's right arm.

"I said put your hands in the air!"

He dropped the man as he walked with his hands up.

"Stop right there!"

"Look I—"

The officer shot him with his taser gun, dropping the man. The officer handcuffed him and put him the cop car.

A young African American male with tied back dreadlocks of a crimson color, sat on the floor in a jail cell. His caramel skin was riddled with dried sweat and blood. His acid green eyes shifted back in forth from the floor and wall. His lips were in a tight line as his black lip piercing was adorned on the side of them.

"This has been the 7th time. When you gonna stop these childish tantrums, Raphael?" A voice said. His ears perked up, as he knew that voice. A man was standing there behind the bars in a dark blue suit and tie. He was a famous hockey player. He watched over Raphael like he was his own brother.

"Casey, look the dude was talkin' shit about Angel. I watch over that girl like a little sister, man. I beat his ass for it, plain and simple bruh." He stood up and shrugged nonchalantly.

"You beat em' nearly to death. He's barely eating through a straw. God damn it, man!"

"That's what he gets for talkin' shit. I told his ass I was havin' a bad day!" He turned around and faced his friend.

"You can't keep doin' this! I can only bail you out so many times before you're stuck in prison; if we're being honest, I don't think you wanna swing that way. You're only nineteen; this ain't any way to live. You need to control your anger before it gets you killed. Think about Angel, man." Casey ran a hand through his long hair.

"I know you ain't talkin bout anger b. You know how many psychotic episodes you told me about, where you beat a fool with a hockey stick whenever you got a foul for something you didn't do?!" Raphael walked over to him as his green eyes flared.

"Look, this ain't about me pal. This is all about you. Besides why do you think I take meds now?" Casey grabbed one of the bars of the cell tightly.

Casey had a look of sympathy in his blue eyes. Raphael sighed and grabbed his head. He ran his hand through his dreads and breathed heavily as his voice began to choke.

"What's the point if I'm gonna keep doin' the same thing over and over? I'm a lost cause man. I always caused my parents trouble. I'm no good. I was a part of the Purple Dragons, I did bad shit. There ain't any hope for me." The self-acclaimed tough guy bowed his head in shame and tried his hardest not to cry.

"Look at me man. LOOK AT ME RAPHAEL!"

"Just leave me here. I deserve to be here. I'm a bad person. Look at all of the shit I've done! I've stole shit, hurt people, and committed crimes…all for my own selfish gain!"

"How dare say you that shit? I promised your parents I would look after you. Raph, I don't ever wanna hear you ever talkin' down about yourself. You're not a bad guy, you're just misguided. You're gonna control your wrath, and I'm gonna help you."

Casey ordered an officer to release Raphael, which he did, albeit reluctantly. As Casey gave the somber teen a tissue, he hugged him tightly.

Raph heard the officer mumble something along the lines of 'man, what a failure'.

Raphael wrenched himself from Casey's grip, turned sharply, and slung his fist at the cop's face. The only thing that stopped it from connecting was Casey's hand.

The crimson haired young man lowered his hand and looked at the cop.

"Listen here, you fat fuck of a pig. You don't know shit bout me fam. You don't know what I had to do to stay alive, so miss me with that bullshit." The angry young man growled through his unusually sharp canines.

Casey pulled him away from the cop hastily.

"Raph, chill out; it ain't worth going right back in there for assaulting some judgmental ass."

Raph looked at him dead in his eyes and looked back at the cop.

"You lucky he here, or else I woulda beat your ass to a bloody pulp."

The two walked over to the cop and got Raph's stuff. All the cops gave him this knowing smirk, as if they had a good feeling that he'd back here soon.

"How, tell me how you gonna help a 'failure' like me, bruh?" They walked out the station and got in Casey's truck.

"You'll find out tomorrow." Casey simply smiled.

On the ride home, Raph kept his emerald eyes glued to the window, he watched the cars pass by. His thoughts were consumed of his past mistakes, failures, and near death experiences.

I'm not mad at you son, just disappointed. We're both very disappointed in you, son.

They pulled up the driveway of Casey's lavish but somehow modest three-story home. It was mainly colored back with hints of white.

"This real nice Casey, you never told me you had a big house bruh." Raph walked in with his bag.

"I brought you here after you got into a real bad bar fight, you was just too wasted to remember."

"Oh word?" Raph set his bag down and sat on the plush couch.

"Yeah man. So what about you and this Purple Dragon shit? Are you done with them, Raphael?" Casey turned and locked the door.

"Greetings Master Raphael, you should eat something." A voice surprised the young man.

"Jesus! Who the hell is this dude and why is he in yo house fam?" Raph looked at the strange man in a suit. He almost looked like that butler whose master dresses up as a nocturnal mammal or something.

"That's Sebastian, Raphie boy. He's my butler. You know, the guy who helped me drag you into the house after your bar fight?"

The memory came back to him after a little thinking.

"Oh, my bad, I forgot who you were. Bastian, what's poppin' my dude?"

"That would be the popcorn, Master Raphael." Sebastian handed him a glass of water.

"Funny, I like this dude." Raphael spoke with a chuckle.

"So, you got any babes you can introduce me to?" Casey sat on the couch and nudged his best friend.

"You mean like a girlfriend or something? Nah, you know me man, can't be held down by nobody…not even a female."

"What about Mona Lisa?" Casey chuckled.

Raph spit out the water he was drinking and coughed a few times.

"What are you talkin' bout b?" Raph tried to play it off, and failed. The slight movement of his eyebrows told Casey everything.

"You can't tell me you don't remember Mona? You know, your best friend, the chick you would argue with over anything?"

"Oh her, we…uh, been keepin' in touch." Raphael beat against his chest softly.

"By 'keeping in touch', do you mean…what is that you young people call it these days, 'friends with benefits'?"

The crimson haired young man paled in shock. His fingers twirled around nervously as he looked elsewhere.

"So what's been going on with you and hockey lately, Jones?" He tried to change the subject very quickly.

"Well, I and the rest of the Chicago Psychos had a celebration party after our well-deserved victory a couple weeks back. I see you tryin' to change the subject. But I'll guess I let ya off the hook for now."

Raphael walked upstairs to a guest room to get his things situated.

"Master Jones, I do have a question to ask you about Master Raphael."

"What's up, Sebastian?"

"Does he have any living relatives?"

"Yeah, but they don't want nothin' to do with him. They left me to take care of em' because they 'can't love a gang member of a son'. Buncha cowards if yah ask me."

"Thank you sir, that's all I needed to know."

Casey said goodbye to his good friend as he walked upstairs to his bedroom on the third floor. The hockey player looked up at his nightstand and noticed that his meds were empty.

He knew exactly what this meant.

It meant something very, very bad.

The next day, Raphael woke up to see breakfast on his nightstand with a note.

'Enjoy, Master Raphael- Sebastian'

After he finished his breakfast, he walked out of his room to go thank Sebastian. He stopped when he heard a loud noise come from Casey's room.

"Are you good, Casey?" He said as he knocked on the door.

He didn't hear a response so he opened the door.

"Who the fuck is you?! Where is Casey at?!" Raphael was yelling at a man dressed in a hockey mask, leather hoodie, football and soccer pads, with sports weapons on his back. He and his hockey stick were covered in blood, bits of bone, and brain matter. Raphael was ready to whoop his ass.

The masked assailant was ready to attack when he stopped, realizing who it was.

"Raph, what in the fuck are you doing here?!"

"How do—wait, Casey?!" Raph was taken aback at the thought of this lunatic being his best friend.

"Look, pal. I—" He began as he removed his mask.

"Don't you 'pal' me, Arnold! Why in the hell are you covered in blood and pieces of bone?!" Raph shut the door and locked it.

"You ain't goin' nowhere until you explain what the fuck is goin' on with you fam."

Casey saw the fear in his friend's eyes and couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Casey dropped his bag and hockey stick and sat on the bed.

"Where do I even begin?"

"So you mean to tell me, that when you're off your meds, you become mad violent and yo mental issues come to the surface? And in order to keep from hurtin' the people you care about, you out here takin' criminals' lives like some kinda street reaper?" Raph tried to comprehend what Casey was saying to him. He walked around the master bedroom with a sort of confusion.

"That's basically the gist of it. Look, I'm sorry you had to see me like this. It ain't somethin' I'm particularly proud of. I feel some kinda hockey freak, too angry to control his wrath so he beats down other people. I feel like a hypocrite." Casey looked at his blood and dirt covered mask, the self-loathing in his voice was very apparent.

"No, you ain't a hypocrite. You can't control your anger, so it ain't your fault. I can, so I'm in the wrong for that. Like you told me, I don't ever wanna hear you talkin' down about yourself. Its OK, nobody else gotta know. It's gonna take a bit getttin' used to but, I'll deal. Maybe we can make a crime fightin' duo one day." The red haired young man put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I appreciate it Raphie boy. I'll get cleaned up and changed, and we'll go get some lunch."

"Is we seriously bout to get lunch at ten in the morning?" Raph opened up the door.

"Brunch it is then."