Alice Cooper really had a point there.
My life was nothing but a plastered smile and rejected politeness. I was raised to be courteous and to be the best gentleman out there. A lot of good that did. All I heard for years was…
“What a pushover.”
I could mention some other ones, but they all added up in my heart while I did everything in my power to take this arbitrary way called the high road. Then things crashed after getting pushed around literally and metaphorically.
“Hey, Dalton. Are you gonna push me around?”
“Go on and make me laugh.”
I was greeted by a punch to the face where I felt the blood exit my nose.
For the first time in my life, I threw a punch right back which landed square in his jaw. It felt euphoric as my knuckles dug into his flesh and bone. I couldn’t help but smile when it hit, so I threw another one out there.
You asked for it, so I’m only giving you what you want.
“Dalton, I thought you were too nice to do that.”
I thought so, too.
“Get the hell away from me.” I said to these so-called friends. “Where were you all those times when I got beat, huh?”
“Watch your langua–”
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!” I yelled back.
They all stood away from me as I lashed out at them. These thoughts coalesced as I started getting what I want: A world where I could be feared instead of loved.
Machiavelli might have whispered in my ear as I lived on.