Psychoactive: Kidnapping of Cory Harper

Senior year, the beginning of first semester. Senioritis hadn't kicked in yet. Football season was off to a great start. Life couldn't have been better. Bree was gorgeous. The perfect girl, you know? Her brunette hair was all I could think about.

Mom and Dad's marriage couldn't have been better either. They had had their rough spots here and there, but it had been a while since their last real bad fight. As for Cora and Caitlyn, petty brats, but you had to love them. After all, being the oldest wasn't that bad. Had your own car, could go where you wanted without asking permission.

It was a Friday after a game, we won 30-7, pretty damn good Dad said.

"Them Eagles didn't know what hit 'em!" he said as we headed back home, I was drenched in sweat and my hair oily after the game.

"Go Royals! Go Royals!" Cora, who was eight then, still cheering my team on. Her energy is happier than ever.

"Cora, be quiet! I'm gonna knock you out!" Caitlyn, fourteen, bitchier than ever.

"Settle it girls! Now!" Mom had had enough, I was with her.

We made it home, Cora crashed on my lap on the couch, while Caitlyn decided she wanted ice cream at the worst time possible. I told her no, I had had enough of her for the night. Mom and Dad went into the garage to look at an antique pistol he won at an auction; he was obsessed with those.

A little back story. Before I decided to join the team my sophomore year, I was a rebellious little shit. I stole. Vandalized. And was a chaotic mess. Football brought me back. Gave me something to focus on, to build on. I diverted all my attention to getting better at this sport that all my bad intentions went away, my Dad's idea really. I'll always be thankful for that. There was a time I decided I wanted to try weed for the first time, and I had a "senior" hookup who promised me seven grams for a hundred bucks. My smart ass thought it was a damn good deal. But where to get the money had been my first mistake. Mom's vintage glass piece Dad had gotten from one of those auctions. I stole it, and pawned it. The fat bitch at the pawn shop had only given me eighty, but my hookup said I could give him the rest later.

My second mistake: keeping the fucking receipt. My mom had found it in my backpack. My parents murdered me. Well not really but you get the point. Ever since then, I was never really trusted, and karma was about to bite me in the ass.

"What the fuck?" I heard it from the garage like a bell.

"Chill out Hal, maybe you misplaced the damn thing!" Mom wasn't helping Dad with the situation.

I heard them mumbling, I couldn't make it out. By that time Cora had woken up and got off my lap to lay on the other side of the couch. Caitlyn was God knows where.

"Cory!" Dad was pissed.

Fuck, I thought, he can't think I took that rusty old junk.

I hesitated getting up, but he met me in the middle of the dining room.

"You think he took your shit pistol?" Mom was on my side, thank Christ.

"Who else would touch it?" He was infuriated.

"What the fuck? I didn't touch your toy, Dad!"

"Cory Jeremy Harper, I ain't playing these games anymore with you, I thought you were over this thievery shit!"

I started to shake. I couldn't believe he actually thought I took it. After 2 years of gaining his trust, he threw it out the window.

"Dad, I swear I didn't touch it! Dad come on, please!"

"Hal, look again please" Mom had tears in her eyes.

"How could I not think you did it? You done it before huh?" His face was red hot.

I was upset, angry, and couldn't believe him.

"Fuck this! I'm leaving this shithole!"

"Where in the hell are you going?" Dad screamed, Cora started crying.

"Bree's! Somewhere where people fucking trust me!"

I grabbed my keys from the side table near the door and slammed it behind me.