Page 71

July 27, 2020

7:57 a.m.

Death-Cast didn’t call, even though they should’ve since I almost attacked the heir. Maybe Alano told them how badly I wanna

die, so Death-Cast’s retaliation is to make me live. Or maybe they’re waiting for the media storm to blow over before they

send an assassin to quietly deal with me. That’s a stupid-ass conspiracy, but according to the news, I showed my true colors

yesterday as a Death Guarder, which is another stupid-ass conspiracy, but no one believed my truth before, and they definitely

won’t now, since I can’t hide behind only being violent to save Mom’s life.

It took less than an hour for a video of me threatening to punch Alano to go viral. It took a little bit longer before I was

identified as the latest Death Guarder out for blood, but the damage has been done. My name has made headlines and is being

dragged all over social media. What’s really disgusting is watching Carson Dunst’s supporters praise my anger against Alano.

You know you’ve done something wrong when that crowd is backing you up.

Mom has asked me to stay off social media until this blows over. I refuse.

People think self-harming is only physical. Reading hateful comments cuts deeper.

I open Twitter and type in my name to see what people are saying:

@theOriginalOP123: I KNEW Dario was a Death Guarder!!! We all know he loves people dying without warning RIP Daddy Dario

@IDoTheLeastAlwaysss: PAZ DARIO FOR PRESIDENT

@manthony12: my best friend Rufus had anger issues too. doesn’t mean he was bad. #Dario

@The1nOn1yPeck: wow Dario threw hands lol he should’ve finished the job #DeathGuard

@WereWolfie57: bro I watched GRIMMED MISSED CALLS and Dario’s dad was a piece of shit who needed to die but Piction+ needs to do a part

2 because is a piece of shit too

@SaveFacePublicity: Dario needs a PR team. Hire me $$$

@ByrdSong27: whoever paid Dario to take a hit out on Alano Rosa should’ve been clearer #maybenexttime

@ScorpiusIsMyDemonKing: RT if “how to get away with murder” should do 1 more season and cast Dario since hes got EXPERIENCE

@aRealSeerNYC: like father like son. #Dario

@TheBadNewsHerald: why was Alano Rosa hanging out w/ Dario???

I stop and stare at that last tweet. Would anyone believe that Alano and I were hanging out because he liked me? If so, they’re

as stupid as I am.

Mom knocks on the door I agreed to keep open and unlocked since she was so concerned about me, especially because I didn’t

wanna talk about what went down with Alano.

“Here you go.” Mom hands me two Prozac and water. I swallow both pills, but she doesn’t leave. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” I say, scrolling away and letting strangers define me.

Mom snatches my phone and holds it away. “What are you going to do? Hit me?”

Apart from threatening to kill herself, this is the worst thing Mom has ever said to me. I can hate random-ass people for saying “like father, like son,” but Mom is the only one in the world who I never want thinking that. Hitting Alano isn’t me, but I’m sure Dad told Mom the same thing over and over and over. That didn’t stop him, not even when she was pregnant with me. I wanna act like I’m different and safe, but I don’t get that right.

“That’s what I thought,” Mom says. She hasn’t been this stern since she was laying down the rules of my suicide watch. “I

can only assume Alano isn’t pressing charges since the police haven’t arrived yet, but I’m still terrified they are going

to knock on this door any minute now and take you away from me, as would be their right, for threatening violence against

Alano.”

Between all of last night’s crying and secretly self-harming myself like never before, I’ve barely slept, but what’s really

kept me awake is waiting for the cops to arrest me. That’s how traumatic my first arrest was.

The night I killed Dad, two police officers rolled up. The bad cop found me cowering in the corner of my bedroom. I immediately

held my empty hands in the air because that’s what I always saw police tell people to do on TV shows. I wanted them to see

me as a good kid after what I’d done, but the bad cop still handcuffed me anyway, saying it was procedure and for their own

safety, which didn’t make sense because they were adults with guns and I was nine without one... anymore. Mom begged the

officers to be gentle with me, and the good cop took me away from the bad cop’s grip, but in all that commotion I missed Mom’s

warning to not look at Dad’s body on the way out.

Of all the moments surrounding Dad’s death—from grabbing the gun from the closet to shooting him twice—it really sank in that I had killed Dad when I saw his corpse lying in the blood that was spreading across the same floor where I took my first steps toward him.

I thought I was a hero for saving Mom’s life, but I felt like a villain when I was sitting in the back of the cop car, escorted

into the police station when everyone looked at me like my crime was written on my face, when I posed for that mug shot, when

I got my fingerprints stamped, and when I was interrogated for killing Dad. Mom thought we didn’t have anything to hide, so

she let me speak to the detective before we had any legal backup, but as I answered every question truthfully, I was still

scared that I was gonna make a mistake and be written off as a liar and be charged with premeditated murder and locked up

for the rest of my life.

Maybe that’s where I belonged all along.

“And?” I ask. I can’t stop the police from arresting me.

“Why did you almost hit Alano?” Mom asks.

The viral video shows me and Alano arguing, but you can’t really make out what we’re saying, same deal with the other videos

people posted. What’s clear as day is Alano grabbing my wrist when I try walking away and me swinging back, ready to punch

him. I would rather go to jail than watch that horrific video again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I called Ms. Cielo—”

“What? Why?” I interrupt. Ms. Cielo was the public defender in my trial.

“In case we need to fight this in court.”

“There’s no fight. I didn’t even do anything.”

“That doesn’t mean your intent can’t be used against you. Instead of having you spend time in prison, we can work with your

therapist and psychiatrist to get you into an anger-management program and help prevent future outbursts with cognitive behavioral

therapy.” Mom loves me so much that she can’t even be mad enough to send me to jail before I can become a true terror like

Dad. “I can only help if I know what possessed you to hurt Alano.”

I’ve been possessed by a mental disorder because of Dad abusing Mom. I’ve gone from being terrified to becoming the terror.

“I wanted to punch Alano because he obliterated my heart,” I cry out. No one goes to jail for heartbreak, but that should

be a crime too. I want Alano tried in court and forced to explain to a judge and jury how he thought it was okay to prey on

my dying soul.

That’s all I’m able to say, but it’s enough for Mom. “I’m sorry, ito.”

I let Mom hold me as I cry, remembering how badly I missed her when I was sent to a juvenile detention center in the Bronx

the night I killed Dad. My throat got so raw as I screamed for Mom, scared I would never see her again. I cried in my cell

so hard that I threw up and I cried until I fell asleep and I cried when I woke up and I cried when I was released back into

Mom’s arms the next afternoon. That one night without Mom—and even Dad—felt like forever.

And now nothing feels lonelier than life without Alano. I’m ready to give up.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Rolando says at the door, “but there are vans outside.”

The police are here, but vans? Like, more than one? Did they send a SWAT team or the military to arrest a nineteen-year-old

boy whose only weapon is a knife he uses to hurt himself? I’m gonna have to make a run for it. Then I remember that I self-harmed

like never before last night and don’t stand a chance of outrunning anyone when I can barely walk. I break out of Mom’s hold,

hiding my limp as I go to the window and pull back the curtains.

I’m blinded by lights.

It’s not the police coming to arrest me. It’s the media here to destroy me.

If I’d known surviving would lead me here, I would’ve pulled the trigger.