Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The people do not exist except in my mind. This work is copy written and I ask that you do not copy, post or electronically download without my express permission. If you are too young to be in here or it is illegal in your state then please leave as I do not wish anything to happen to you.
CHAPTER TWO MALCOLM
The first day of a new life started fourteen years ago for Malcolm Daniels he was the only son to the trusty Richard Daniels, and his house wife Elizabeth Daniels, he bright red hair was already covering his hair and he bright green eyes sparkled with mischief. By the time Malcolm was two he was talking a mile a minute. His grandfather, who Malcolm called papa, had moved in with the family earlier that year and the two had become inseparable. Malcolm's dad didn't mind the friends his son made, most were from well off families like his, but then there were others that came from poorer families.
By the time Malcolm started school his long red hair had him placed as a rebel, if you can imagine a six year old rebel. Grades one through three the teachers never said anything, thinking Malcolm would grow out if it, but they soon found out that he didn't. His papa always told him to stand his ground and be an individual and stand for what he knew was right. In grade four things started going bad for him, because he wouldn't cut his hair the school suspended him, his parents went to the school board about it, but they said that school policy stated that all boys must have short hair.
Malcolm's parents then asked for his school marks and that they would register their son in another district. The new school was no different though they did let him finish the year. Then in grade six the kids started picking on him calling him a girl and beating him.
His papa had heard what was happening and enrolled him in karate classes. Malcolm quickly learned his moves and soon was becoming more confident in himself. He still went to school and ignored the comments made about him. It was during this school year that Malcolm started writing poetry, doing three or four a day. At the same time he was writing short stories and poetry, hiding his writing behind a fictional name. Soon he had over two hundred poems done and just to see what would happen he submitted them to a publisher.
He had forgotten he had send them in as he was now having more problems at school and his mother was giving him an even harder time at home. She had started complaining about his hair and the fact that he was hanging around kids that she felt were beneath him. The two fought often, with Malcolm always running off and slamming the door to his bedroom. His father always stayed out of the fights, though he knew that his son was different and had come to accept that.
The day came when Malcolm came home from school and he saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table. "Malcolm Daniels come here." Malcolm's mother called.
"Yes mother?" Malcolm replied
"What is this?" His mother asked.
"Looks like a letter." Malcolm answered.
"Don't talk to me like that, it is from some publishing firm in New York, did you write to them?"
"I may have."
"Well I won't have it, you are a Daniels and not some worthless writer."
"I'll write to who I want to."
"You will do as your told, I forbid you to write any more."
"Forget it. I will do what I want."
"Elizabeth, is that letter address to you?" Papa asked.
"Well no." Elizabeth answered, angry that she was being interrupted.
"Then give it to the boy and mind your own business." Papa snapped.
"I will not have a writer in my house."
"If Malcolm wants to be a writer then let him, who is he hurting?"
"Our name, how could he think of lowering himself to such mundane thing?"
"Just give him his letter and let him be, you have made his life miserable these last few years."
"I won't have it."
"Elizabeth, give Malcolm his letter and stop this foolishness." Richard spoke from the door. "I have always encouraged Malcolm to be himself and if he wants to be a writer then let him."
"Fine, you can make your own dinners tonight."
Malcolm had open the letter as he sat at the table. He had to read it twice before he realized that his poetry was going to be published and that the other piece of paper was a cheque for ten thousand dollars. "DAD, PAPA, I did it, I did it." Malcolm yelled.
"What son, what did you do?" Papa asked
"They published my poems." Malcolm said with a huge smile on his face as he showed his dad and papa.
"Really son that is wonderful." His dad smiled.
"Look dad this is a cheque, look at how much it is for."
"Darn son that is great, honey look at this your son has made it."
"Yeah so we now have a writer in the family, now our name is really going to be mud."
"You know mom I just wanna thank you for ruining things for me, I was happy at least for a minute." With that he ran off and slammed his door. Falling on the bed he cried. His mother always ruined everything for him.
Grade seven started and Malcolm once more was the laugh of the school, he didn't let it bother him any though. He was still doing karate classes and having a good time. That is except at home. His mother was becoming a real bitch; nothing Malcolm did was good enough for her. Two days after his last argument with her, Malcolm sent off a bunch of his short stories and with in a week he was sent another letter saying that it would be published within the next six weeks. Again his mother ruin his happy mood. "Mom, if you don't like me writing then why don't you just leave me alone." Malcolm yelled at her
"Why you insolent brat, how dare you talk to me in that way." His mother snarled raising her hand to slap him.
"Then stop ruining my moments of happiness, I have made a name for myself as a writer and you don't care. I wish I was dead now."
Leaving her standing there Malcolm ran to his karate class, getting there just in time to change and join the others. He was partnered with an older boy that was bigger than him. And the sensei started the class he soon noticed that Malcolm was being very offensive against his opponent, pushing him back and not seeming to care if he was hurt or not.
"Class sit and relax. Malcolm come here." The sensei called out
"Sensei?" Malcolm asked.
"Is something wrong? I noticed you seemed to want to hurt your team mate." The sensei asked, worry showing in his eyes
"I am sorry sensei, I was just taking out my anger, I know that you have taught me that to fight when angry is to lose. Tonight I guess I just didn't care if I lost or not."
"Do not think for a moment that life is without feelings, like anger, happiness, love, hate, one must accept them all and be happy with the way life goes, it isn't always a bed of tea lilies."
"I know master, but why does it always seem to be me getting dumped on."
"I can not answer that, all I know it that you must make your life what you can."
"I try; I guess I had better say I am sorry to my team mate."
"That would be wise, though I think he knows that you didn't mean it."
Malcolm finished the class and headed home, he was feeling better and he felt that he could deal with his life better now. At home after his shower and dinner where his mother didn't say anything to him, he went and did his home work. The rest of the year Malcolm went to school, his karate class and back to his bedroom. His book of poetry and short stories were selling fast, so he sent in another set of stories and then started working on more poems.
That summer his mom and dad took him to France. They had a good time and Malcolm learned a bit French though he never though he would need it. He had passed into grade eight and he knew that he had another five years of school before he was finished. With five books in print Malcolm had proven to himself that he could do it. The good thing about it was that no one knew who the real author was.
Back at home Malcolm got himself ready for his first day of school. He spent money on new clothes and got the best of everything he needed. Then school started and he walked in and registered by the time he was finished he was running late walking down the hallway he was studying his schedule when he walked right into a kid knocking him on his butt. "Hey why don't you watch where your going girl." The kid said.
"Sorry kid didn't seeing you and as for being a girl I doubt that." Malcolm smiled as he helped the kid up.
The kid stood up and showed Malcolm where his locker was then left. "Hope your not late for class." Malcolm said."
"No problem I'm not worried." with the kid gone Malcolm threw his books in his locker and started looking for his first class. Opening the door he heard the teacher talking. "Who are you?" The teacher asked.
"Malcolm Daniels, sorry I got lost looking for the class." Malcolm answered, looking straight at the teacher.
That was the start of a fight with his teacher that would last for the next three months. Malcolm had stopped three bullies a few times then came the day when Malcolm had just left his locker when he stopped. "Well trash where you steal those clothes." The bullied snarled.
"Go jump in the trash with your family." Patrick spoke.
"You got no one to watch over you today." The bullied whispered his face inches from Patrick.
"Why don't you guys back off before you regret it?" Malcolm spoke from the back of the group.
"Who's gonna make us, you fag, you think you can?" The bullied called out.
"I don't want trouble so why don't you leave Patrick and me alone." Malcolm said his voice calm.
"I bet he pisses himself if I raise my hand."
"Look guys, I have warned you once to back off. Now I am warning you again."
"Your warning us, I don't think so, we do what we want." The leader started walking towards Malcolm his buddies behind him. All three went to throw a punch at him, but soon found that they were on the floor. Turning Malcolm walked back to his locker.
"Malcolm duck." He heard Patrick yell. The next moment it was over the three were back on the floor and Malcolm was being taken to the office.
The Principle heard what had happen and told him to sit out in the office till his parents arrived. Now Malcolm knew he was in it deep. He knew his mother would really start yelling at him the minute she saw him, dad would wait till later and then they would talk about what had happened. The principle had called the police in and they tried to ask Malcolm questions, but he refused to answer them. For the rest of the day he sat in the office and waited, at lunch Patrick brought him a sandwich and juice. Then the police spoke with the students. At three the principal called Malcolm in. "Mr. Daniels, you have left me no choice but to expel you from this school." Now go clean out your locker and leave." The principal ordered.
"Yes sir." Malcolm answered.
Malcolm had done that and walked home, he wasn't mad, he was upset, but he would get over it. At home he had just got in the door when his mother was there. "Well young man just what do you think you were doing, fighting in school, I thought you knew better, your grounded until I say different, now go to your room." Elizabeth growled from her seat in the front room
"Mom go to hell, I did just what I thought was right, something you wouldn't know about." Malcolm yelled.
"No dinner for you tonight either now get your butt upstairs."
"Gladly."
Malcolm's dad came home and his wife lit into him as soon as he stepped in the door. "Malcolm is getting uncontrollable, this afternoon he told me to go to hell. I think it is time to put him in a private school so he learns respect for his elders."
"I will not have my son going to a private school; if you wouldn't be such a snob at times, maybe he wouldn't be so angry with you."
"I am not a snob, I just want what is best for him and I think a private school is needed."
"Well I don't and that is the end of it."
"Why do you always defend him, you know what he did to those boys I do not think they were being bullies, I think Malcolm just flipped out on them."
"I don't."
They were still talking when the police knocked on the door. "Mr. Daniels, we have a warrant to arrest your son on aggravated assault. I am sorry but we will have to take him to juvenile hall."
"I see, let me go get him and bring him down."
"Thank you sir."
Knocking on Malcolm's door he slowly opened it. "Malcolm may I come in?"
"Sure dad."
"Son the police are here, they have a warrant to take you in to juvenile hall. The charge is aggravated assault."
" Dad all I did was defend myself. They attacked me, they even did it when my back was turned, if it hadn't been for Patrick they would have hurt me."
"I know son, there is no way that the judge is going to find you guilty, every one knows those boys are bullies and that you did what was right."
"Will you be with me through this?"
"Yes son and I will get my lawyer to defend you."
"Thanks dad. I guess we better get going."
"Yes son get your jacket and maybe you will want to take your note book and pen, do some more writings?"
"Yeah I got to finish this story, will you send it in for me if I don't get out soon."
"Yes son I will, and I am proud of you, fourteen years old and you have five books published."
"But now I will never be able to say anything about them, dad I never use my real name, I didn't want people to know I was a writer."
"What name did you use son?"
"Michael King."
"Who is he?"
"Just some one I made up."
"Well then I am going to go find all your books and buy them."
"You don't have to dad, I have copies here."
Juvenile hall was cold and bright when Malcolm was lead in. his orange coveralls hung loosely and almost hid his long red hair. Being placed in a room Malcolm sat on the bunk and grimaced. "Oh well nothing I can do about it." he thought as he laid back and closed his eyes. He had been there maybe ten minutes when the door opened again. "Daniels you hungry?" A guard asked.
" Yes sir." Malcolm replied.
"Then come on dining hall is this way." The guards spoke again, as he started walking off.
Getting up Malcolm stepped out and waited for the guard. "There are rules in the hall Daniels, one is no talking. Two you eat what your given and three you take your plate to the dish window."
"Yes sir."
Dinner if that is what you would call it was almost cold hamburger, watery mashed potatoes and really over cooked vegetables. The milk was gross, but he ate it all and as the other kids stood he followed and placed his plate with the rest. "Daniels, you head back to your cell, in half hour there is yard and all are expected to go."
"Yes sir, is there a running track, or a place to stretch and do exercises?"
"No, this isn't one of your fancy gyms."
"Okay, had to ask."
"Well don't.
Every day Malcolm did what was expected of him, and when he was in his cell he did his karate exercises. He had spoken with his lawyer Mr. Stillman and few times and things didn't look good.
"Malcolm, the school and police reports here say you just flipped out."
"That's bull sir, I gave them three chances to back off. The others in the hallway saw and heard me, why don't the police talk to them?"
"They did."
"And the students are saying I flipped out?"
"From what the police reports say, yes they are."
"Okay, I guess I didn't make friends."
Email me if you wish me to continue. Thewriter1@live.ca