“Do you want to win or not, Mike?” His father asked. He only thought of things as black and white. Of course, Mike wanted to win; who wanted to be on the losing end of anything? His father grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Hey, Earth to Mike. Tell me if you want to win. I can show you how to if you really want to.” This brought Mike back to reality and also brought the anger back stronger than ever.

“Of course, I want to win, asshole.” Mike blurted out, and his dad smiled and said, “Good, here is what we will do.”

Mike listened intently as his father gave him instructions on how to successfully kill his rival for the starting quarterback spot on the football team. His father was a failed athlete in school and was living vicariously through his son now. “Do you understand what I’m saying about getting out of there in under ten minutes?” Mike understood and nodded vigorously. The next stop was to Brian’s house, his unequivocal rival on the football team.

The lights were off in the house, but Mike knew which room was Brian’s in the house. They used to be friends when they were in grade school and through most of high school, but things changed when they both came up for the starting position. Mike’s dad pulled the knife out of the glovebox. “A knife is better, nice and quiet.” He told Mike as he put it in his hand. Mike looked at the knife and back at his father.

How can I do this to Brian? He was my best friend. My dad is psychotic, Mike thought to himself and looked back at the knife and then at his father. He turned like he was going to open the door and quickly turned back towards his father and plunged the knife into his neck. His father grabbed at the knife and then back at him, trying to say something but his vocal cords had been severed. Blood was spurting out and covering the inside of the car, and Mike quickly exited and watched through the windows as his father was struggling.

Looking back at Brian’s house and back at the car, he started to walk down the sidewalk and smiled, knowing he might not have done the best thing, but it was better than the alternative. He began to whistle ‘It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood’ all the way home and was perfectly happy being the second-string quarterback that whole next year.