He Kicked My Seat—And Broke Me / Chapter 5: Family, Fury, and the Final Straw
He Kicked My Seat—And Broke Me

He Kicked My Seat—And Broke Me

Author: Martin Graves DVM


Chapter 5: Family, Fury, and the Final Straw

Should’ve known. I posted about what happened in our family group chat, and it blew up instantly.

My phone buzzed nonstop—texts, emojis, little hearts and angry faces. I could almost hear my aunt’s voice, high and worried, even through the screen.

Of course he was. My cousin was the first to send a voice message, almost a minute long.

His voice was loud and indignant, full of the kind of bravado you only get from someone who’s never had to bite their tongue in public. “Don’t let that jerk push you around! We’ll be there at the station, don’t you worry!” Classic.

The rest of the family quickly chimed in, telling me not to be afraid and that they’d be at the station to pick me up soon. I wasn’t alone.

My uncle sent a string of flexing-arm emojis. My little sister sent a picture of the family dog in a superhero cape. I smiled, despite everything. It helped.

Seeing my family have my back made me want to cry.

The screen blurred as tears pricked my eyes. I wiped them away, embarrassed to be crying over a text message, but grateful all the same.

He was right. My cousin said he’d bring my older brother too, and told me not to risk my job over someone like that.

I needed that. He reminded me, “We got your back, but you gotta keep your head, man. Don’t let some loser ruin your career.” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.

Thinking of my older brother—he’s had a rough time—I felt a warmth in my chest.

He’d always had my back growing up, even when things got rough. I pictured him waiting at the platform, arms crossed, ready to take on the world for me. He always had my back.

Here we go again. Maybe because I went silent, the bald guy thought I’d backed down. He angrily kicked my seat again, snapping, “You stepped on my girlfriend’s foot and didn’t even apologize, huh?”

They mattered more. His words were sharp, but I barely heard them. I was too busy thinking of home, of the people waiting for me.

I turned around, not wanting to argue with this jerk, and said coolly, “Your eyes aren’t on your girlfriend’s feet, so how did you see me step on her?”

My voice was ice, every word deliberate. I didn’t even look at him, just stared out the window as the countryside rolled by. I was done.

Hearing that, the bald guy looked stunned, his eyes turning vicious. “If you don’t apologize to my girlfriend today, I swear I’ll beat the crap out of you!”

His face twisted, veins standing out on his neck. I didn’t flinch. I was done playing his game. Enough.

At this point, I was seething, my breathing heavy, my face growing pale.

My fists shook in my lap, nails digging into my skin. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Thank God. Other passengers finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough, you two. It’s Memorial Day weekend—why make things harder for everyone?”

Finally, someone spoke up. A middle-aged man in a baseball cap spoke up, his voice tired but firm. A woman nearby nodded, adding, “We’re all just trying to get home, can’t we just have some peace?”

Exactly. “Yeah, we’re all just trying to get home for the holiday. Can’t we all just get along?”

A chorus of agreement rippled through the car. I felt a little less alone, grateful for the small show of solidarity.

He just wouldn’t quit. People started stepping in to mediate, but the bald guy just cursed out loud: “It’s not your girlfriend who got stepped on, so of course you don’t care! If it was your own girlfriend, you wouldn’t dare say a word!”

He spat on the floor, glaring at anyone who looked his way. The car fell silent, the tension thick as ever.

I glanced at him, pulled out my tray table, and ignored him, turning my attention to a TV show on my phone. I was done.

I put in my headphones, cranked up the volume, and focused on the flickering images. Anything to drown out his voice, to pretend I was somewhere else.

The bald guy, seeing I was ignoring him, shot me a look of contempt and turned to his girlfriend. “See that? Never pick a coward like that for a boyfriend. He’s useless up top and probably useless down below too! Ha!”

He cackled, and his girlfriend giggled, her laughter shrill and grating. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them get to me. Not this time.

Of course she did. His girlfriend giggled at that.

She leaned in, whispering something in his ear. He grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. Disgusting.

I was furious—how did I end up sitting near these two jerks? Just my luck.

I stared at my reflection in the window, wondering if I’d done something in a past life to deserve this. The world outside blurred, a smear of green and gray.

He just kept pushing. Seeing I wasn’t fighting back, the bald guy seemed even more pleased with himself. He kicked my seat again.

The impact was sharp, rattling my bones. I bit my lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not this time.

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