the father of a childhood friend passed away when we were in the eighth grade , and he asked me to go and help him be strong . all rods are in the red , sir . for now , he needed to calm the beast . before they 'd known it had started , at least . i stared at the mirror as two spots of color rose to stain my cheeks . he knows nothing in the house would dare hurt him . `` not yet , '' he said , still not letting go . 