The Losing Game

vii. the search party

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

THEO HAD SPENT HIS NIGHT going through his bookshelves, looking for something. About an hour after all other lights in the house had been turned off, Theo decided that his search was only wasting his time. He settled on taking out a very worn copy of Stephen King's The Shining and rereading it. He had seen the movie a year after it came out in theaters. He practically begged his mother to let him see it. He had loved the book and all the deep physiological horrific details. The movie was a bit underwhelming after that. It was still a top ten, but he wanted more.

He finished the book in 5 hours, leaving him just under 15 minutes before his mother would call him downstairs for breakfast. Every morning for the past eight years, his schedule was: eat at 6:00, run at 6:30, shower at 7:00, and be on the way to school by 7:15. If there was no school, he could either go back to bed, train in the yard, or go to work. Wasting time watching dumb cartoons while his parents were home; never an option.

The 6:29 am alarm rang, and almost right on cue, his mother's voice came echoing through the house shortly after. Snapping the book closed, Theo hopped down from his upper bed and walked down the hall to the bathroom. He grabbed the bottle of hair gel and fixed up some of the spikes that had gone flat while he sat against the wall reading. After Theo finished, he washed the excess gel off his hands and walked downstairs.

Mrs. Harrington was standing in front of the stove while her husband sat at the dining table, drinking his coffee while he completed crossword puzzles from a book. Neither noticed Theo's arrival until he opened the fridge to grab his usual morning juice box. Mrs. Harrington turned down the burner she was using too low and turned her head, "Are you going today? Your suit was a mess when I found it this morning."

"Nah," Theo said as he stabbed the straw into the tiny hole at the top of a juice box.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Harrington's voice boomed from the other room. He hadn't taken his eyes off the current word he was trying to figure out, and his posture stayed the same. He didn't look like he was in one of his moods but sure did sound like it.

"No, Ma'am. I am not going today," Theo stood up straight, eyes staring through his mother as if he was in the army.

"Good boy. Get me another coffee," His father barked.

Mrs. Harrington gave her youngest son a soft smile before reaching to the counter above her and grabbing a mug. Theo took it from her and walked over to the coffee maker. The boiling components sitting there. He filled up the cup before walking over to his father. His mother had diverted her attention back to her cooking and turned on the radio, just loud enough to drown out the following conversation.

Come and whisper in my ear

"Here, sir," Theo set the mug onto the table within his father's view before standing up straight. He placed his right hand over his left wrist and awaited further instruction.

Kick em' when they're up

Kick em' when they're down

Mr. Harrington placed his pen down as he turned to look at his son. His face had no emotion displayed, but Theo knew what was coming. Mr. Harrington brought up a hand and smacked Theo across the face, just light enough to leave a small red impression. His coffee settled back down into his cup as he turned back to his puzzle and motioned for Theo to sit down.

We got the bubble-headed bleached-blonde

"That little stunt you pulled with your suit last night will not be tolerated," He started, "Skipping your friend's funeral and school for no good reason other than your feelings is weakness."