Okay, this one is being turned into class and I still am working on revisions. Tell me if it is too far out there or whatever else you think about it.
Lowering slowly into the volcanic waters within the bone tinted chamber, the sweat, grime, and aftermath of the long day… they all dissipated into the purifying water. An arm reached for the ivory bar of soap, staining it, leaving deep incisions upon it’s malleable surface. Squeezing it firmly, the hand plunged the item into the luminous water below. Emotionless, a sole body submerged deep into the bubbling waters surrounding it, allowing the liquid to cleanse everything but the face. The red aura that encased the skin became increasingly softer. It was calming. For the first time since entering the waters, the tired eyes were ready to open. There was someone else in the room.
“Richard,” a voice called to him, “where are you Richard?”
“Reno…” he replied. His eyes were still shut. He was still reclined, but no longer in the soothing waters. The drain opened and his water was gone. He was not yet clean. The shrink had taken this vision from him. What could he take from the shrink?
“Pardon me, Richard?”
“Reno, Doc. The name is Reno. Don’t call me Richard. Only people I don’t like call me Richard. Should I not like you?” His bloodshot eyes opened as he rotated his head toward Doctor Taylor’s desk. Reno looked at the desk as a boundary between himself and the shrink. Hand-carved… like the one Gramps made that Michael and I use to play on. Dad told us not to; he said that it was too expensive to play on… That must have cost him. I’d kill to be able to play with Michael one more time on a desk like that.
“Alright then, Reno it is,” red markings splattered the white page as the shrink made note of the preference, “Now then, what where you just thinking about?” Taylor’s regaling British accent was something Reno wasn’t accustomed to hearing. He didn’t particularly like it.
Reno blinked slowly, “I was thinking about-” he paused, the chime coming from the large black cherry clock in the corner of the room caught his attention. His eyes ever so slightly began to scan the room. Continuous patterns of forest green waves and navy blue splashes covered the walls; two brown leather chairs, one elongated; soft teal carpet; cream doctoral certification; and… a family portrait on a white sand beach… the youngest member resembled Michael. What he should look like now. “I am thinking about my family.”
The shrink must have seen some pain in his eyes or detected a different tone in his voice because the red ink flowed once more. The scribbling was an attempt to delve into Reno’s mind, cut through his flesh and expose his soul. Cutting… the pen’s scratching sounded like scissors cutting through white paper. Whether the shrink noticed or not, Reno’s eyes were trembling slightly.
“How do you feel when you think about your family?”
“I feel-”Tick Tock. “I feel-” Tick Tock. “I feel-” Tick Tock goes the bloody clock that won’t stop its damn knocks. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Crash Bang. Crash Bang. Thud Pound! Thud Pound! STUPID BOY! STUPID BOY! STUPID BOY! “Enraged… At them. Toward them! For them… angry.”
“It’s alright, Reno. Just calm down, relax,” he said after a long pause, staring Reno down in an attempt to understand what was going on in his mind. He would never be able to find the truth, though; he was easily three times Reno’s age and Reno wasn’t exactly making their time here easier. This type of case was much more difficult when the person involved was still so young. So little time to heal, and this case was far from the normal. The evaluation at the end of their session would determine a lot. “Reno, I want you to tell me about your father.”
“Dear old Dad, eh? Fine.” The words were like knives being driven into the flesh. Reno flashed half a smile before lowering his head. He could still feel the bruises on his arms… and his legs… and his face. The marks had gone from his skin, but deep down they were still there. They always would be there.
Richard’s father was never a happy man. Richard knew this. As a boy he did everything in his power not to make his father angry. It didn’t work. Whether he took it like a man or ran away, the bruises were still there every morning. He couldn’t tell anyone though, his father wouldn’t let him. It was a secret, and secrets are meant to be kept quiet. Only bad children tell their parents’ secrets. Richard tried to be good, but occasionally he couldn’t control what he said. One specific day stood out in his memory…
Richard remembered falling to the ground holding his face. His father’s hand didn’t hurt as much as the rings he wore. Richard had learned to appreciate being hit by his father’s left hand… the wedding band didn’t hurt as much as the class ring. If Richard had done something extremely wrong, his father would turn the ring around so the jewel would strike his face. His father didn’t have to use his left hand, so Richard often thanked God that he did.
“What the fuck did I tell you? Damn little pup!” Every detail of red jewel on the class ring was evident on Richards face, his nose now bleeding, “I just got off the phone with Mrs. Towers who heard you tell some snot-nosed brat that the bruise on your face came from me!” Richard cried for his mother, “Don’t cry for that bitch, there is no one here to save your worthless ass this time! Stay still while I give you your medicine!” Richards lip split with the following hit, his father lifting him into the air. “What… did… I… tell… you!” With each word there was another hit, each harder than the previous.
He carried Richard toward the stairs… Richard had let his father’s secret slip. Consequently, Richard took a ‘slip’ down the stairs that evening. His face lay against the cold cement of the basement floor until his mother came home that night. It was four hours after the incident when his mother returned home and had to sober up quickly. She made his father drive him to the hospital. No one saw what happened to Richard… the family moved as soon as the hospital released him.
“My father and I- he didn’t really love me- we had a very, ahh, a very physical relationship-” Richard choked on the words as they came out. He wiped the tear from his eye as the doctor stared at him. Richard still couldn’t just come out and say that his father hit him. Even now he couldn’t expose his fathers secret. Richard still wanted to be a good boy.
“It’s alright,” Doctor Taylor lowered his notebook and looked strait into his patients eyes, “Reno… He abused you. Didn’t he?”
“Yeah, Doc,” Reno let out a diminutive laugh, “the man ‘abused’ me. Hell, he beat shit out of me! Every damn day! He beat me… he beat my mother… he beat my...” Richard swallowed hard, “He even use to ahhh, to my brother Michael as well… before he…”
“Before he died?” he asked, the records sitting in front of him.
Richard was only ten when it happened. His father was a fair man and didn’t just hit Richard. Michael was too young to take his medicine as well as Richard and his mother had learned to. He was only five… he didn’t know any better than to try and run away. Richard did the same thing at that age. His father only would only hit him harder and longer when he caught up with him, though. Michael, Richard remembered thinking, would learn not to run. He didn’t have the chance to…
When his father came home unhappy, it was always best to not be seen. Who ever he found first would be his outlet for that day’s anger. He was fired on the day Michael died. Michael was in the hallway when their father got home. Richard ducked into the closet… there was nothing he could do for Michael. If there was, he would have done it. The screams still haunt Richard, hearing his brother being chased by his father up the stairs. He peaked out the door and saw his father pulling Michael down the stairs by the hair. Michael was screaming and kicking so hard that their father lost his grip, and when he reached for him again, Michael did something stupid.
“God damn it!” Michael’s teeth had sunk into his fathers finger. “You’re dead now, you little shit!” Whether or not his father meant what he said, it would soon be the truth.
Michael scampered up the stairs, his father following closely behind him. Richard waited a moment before leaving the front hall closet. If his father discovered Richard was in the closet… He didn’t want to think what would have happened to him. He remembered hearing his brother scream, glass breaking and then a thud in the front lawn. That was the first time Richard remembered moving.
“That’s right…” Richard struggled to hold the tears back. He didn’t want to make eye contact with Doctor Taylor. He looked at the picture of Michael. He looked happy…
“Was it hard losing your brother when you were only ten? How did you cope with it?”
“What the hell do you think, Doc? If your son died, would you be having a good day?” Reno sat up and glared into the shrink’s eyes.
“I suppose-“
“Don’t ‘suppose’ anything, just think. How would you cope if your son was - I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Richard sunk back into the chair, “My brother and I were close and he was the only one who really understood me.”
“What about your mother? Didn’t she understand?” Doctor Taylor asked after brief silence.
“No,” he swallowed hard, “She was always drinking. She never really there for us when we needed her. Some mom… She never did anything for us.”
There was an awkward silence while Doctor Taylor made some more scribbling from the dying pen. The doctor was writing so much that the ink in the pen kept freezing up. He turned away when Taylor licked the pen tip; he could still taste the blood in his mouth. Richard was glad when he finally broke the silence, “In order for me to understand- for me to help you, I’m going to need you to be extremely clear in your answer to what I am about to ask, alright? I need to know what happened June thirteenth…”
His mind stopped listening to the conversation… the shrink had managed to take Reno back to that day. He could see two figures, one standing and the other lying on the ground. The one on the ground raised his hand, pleading for him to stop. There was something in the other figures hand, swinging slowly from side to side. He could hear the yelling from the figure on the ground. There was blood everywhere, a trail leading in from the previous room.
“He pushed him- pushed me over the edge- I had no other choices- I couldn’t…”
Reno raised the bat into the air, driving in down onto the other man’s chest. The was a loud crack that resounded from his chest. He curled into a ball, groaning, trying to breath. He extended his trembling arm, a worthless gesture at this point. Reno swung the bat again, shattering the bones in his hand. This wasn’t enough. He swung again, crippling his right leg. Still not enough. He needed one last swing before walking away.
“He- I couldn’t breathe- I ran- his fingers were around my throat- I saw it in the garage.”
There were two ring marks around Richard’s throat by the time he broke free of his father’s grasp. Finally, at the age of seventeen, he had been able to break free from his father’s grip. The only door he could reach was leading into the garage. The first thing he saw was the baseball bat. Reno tightened his grip around the handle, waiting for his father to follow him into the darkness.
“Why was he attacking you? What happened?”
“Found… mother- I saw him- he was- she was dead!”
Richard could only watch the events that had occurred, as if a spectator to all of it. He watched the man strangling his mother. Hitting her again and again. The was already blood, but nothing compared what flowed from her head after it was slammed into the edge of the coffee table. The other figure stood in the doorway, stood in shock. The killer snapped his head toward the intruder. He stood up and walked at him…
“He killed her, didn’t he? Richard?” The Doctor had moved out from his desk, now kneeling at his side.
Richard looked around, still breathing heavily. He nodded his head ever so slightly. His nose was bleeding. The Doctor, with a solemn look on his face, nodded and reached for a tissue from his desk. “He killed them…” Richard whispered to himself.
“Here,” Doctor Taylor handed the tissue to Richard, “Just lay back, I need to make a phone call. It’s going to be alright,” he had a half smile on his face, “It’s going to be alright, Reno.”
As the shrink left the room, Reno dropped the tissue to the ground, smearing the blood across his face and he wiped his nose with his hand. Staring at the blood for only a moment longer before clenching his fist around the oozing red substance. He leaned back, closing his eyes…
“What did- what the fuck did you do?” It was the last time Richard’s father would curse.
Reno let go of the woman’s throat, letting her battered head fall to the ground. Richard had watched it all, unable to do anything. He watched as Reno walked to his father, ran into the garage, picked up the baseball bat. There was blood throughout the house. There was a trail leading into the bathroom.
The hot water flowing into the bone-tinted chamber, Reno began stripping off each layer of soiled clothing. The water burnt to the touch… this was required to purify. As he lowered himself into the molten liquid, he could feel all the sweat, grime, and blood dissipate into the water. The ivory soap began as red as the water around him. Reno was calm, relaxed.
Richard could only stand at the door, watching the blood be washed away. He looked down at his arm. The bruises were still there. | 
