Young Writers Society

The alarm woke me up this morning and I got ready for school.

"Good Morning Annapolis! It's another gorgeous Wednesday morning here in the Spring of '82, and it's gonna stay beautiful. We're exp-"

I turned off the alarm and went downstairs. I found my mother, as usual, sitting on the couch. She was watching the news. "We're out of cereal, Carl," she began.

"You know," I snapped, "It's not that hard to go buy some." I wasn't even hungry. I just said that to be an ass.

My mother turned around on the couch and gave me a dirty look. "You know, if you would just go get a job, maybe there would be some damn cereal!"

I had enough. I grabbed my backpack by the door and left. I walked down the street, toward the street. I passed the Jensen's house, with their annoying dog. I passed old man Robinson, a World War I veteran. I passed by one of the many open spots going into Fendall Woods (you're just... weird).

I froze and stood there, looking into the woods. I could clearly see the river, where I cleaned the blood off. I saw the bush where I hid Nicole. It was eight years ago, but it felt like yesterday. But I've done so much more than that... why did Nicole stick with me?

I couldn't stay here forever. It was getting to my head. I had to get to school. I sprinted down the road, and I didn't look back. Before I knew it, I had calmed down and just reached school. I walked by the crowd of kids and made into school in peace, despite the usual callings of "giraffe" and "freckles".

I went to my locker and then straight to first period. Mr. Thomas was my teacher that period, English. I was ready to discuss Pride and Prejudice and how much of a dick Mr. Darcy seems, but then I was ordered down to the office.

When I got there, I was met by the local psychiatrist, Dr. Wood. He would come down regularly to talk to me after the incident in the locker room. I met with him twice before, but we never went anywhere. I thought we were finished, but I guess I thought wrong.

"Mr. Perkins!" Wood greeted me energetically, like he was happy to see me. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"No," I said. Nonetheless, we went to a conference room, complete with a surrounding brick wall and a total of zero windows. I sat down on one end of the table. He took the other side.

"Before we start," he said, "I want to say that I'm a huge fan of your music."

Oh great. A Carl Perkins reference. It's funny, because I hate the guy's music.

"Can we just get this over with?"

He looked at me, and shrugged his shoulders. "How have the kids been treating you lately?"

Crappy, of course. But then again, it's always been like that. I'm easy prey for these kids. Tall, lanky, freckles, acne... the whole nine yards. Of course, it's been very bad at times. I told this to Dr. Wood.

"How has it been worse?" he asked.

I tried to say something, but I simply couldn't. My mind was swirling with thoughts. I felt dizzy, and a million thoughts came to me. I blacked out.

"Hey FRECKLES!"

"You worthless piece of garbage."

........................................................

It was hot in the locker room. I had just come pack from playing dodge ball, and everybody had to go take a shower. I walked inside a stall and turned on the water, when I heard someone walk up to me from behind. As soon as I turned around, this guy pushed me into the wall.

He walked closer to me, and I saw it was Mack Mitchell, the starting linebacker for the football team. Behind him, I saw that some other boys were watching with amusement. I looked at them pleadingly, but none of them did anything.

Mack grabbed me by the arm and lifted me up.

"I don't like you, you little shit." He twisted my arm, and red-hot pain came running up to my shoulder.

He threw me down on the ground and began to poke and prod me with my foot. Every time I tried to get up, he'd knock me down again. I made my way out of the stall, and now I was surrounded by all the other boys.

"Look at what we have here!" Mack called to the other boys. "A rat! A cold, diseased, and drenched rat!" He kicked me in the chest, and I thought he broke something. A rib, maybe.

"Anybody else want to help me take out the trash?" He asked. Then out of nowhere, I felt someone stepping on my head. I screamed as they kicked me away.

"Clarence, my man!" Mack said to the guy. The guy was Clarence Maxwell, another football player. I heard laughing from the other boys, and somebody threw a sneaker at me. I went into a fetal position and stayed there for as long as I could, while Mack and Clarence continued to harass me. Soon, the other boys jumped in and started hitting me and throwing stuff at me.

Mack picked me up and made sure I didn't fall down. I was dizzy, but I knew what was happening. Somebody opened a bottle of Coca-Cola (probably the one I had) and emptied it out on my head. Then he took the glass bottle and broke it across my back. I screamed in pain, but Mac held onto me.

"You know," Clarence began. "I've really got to piss."

He walked over to me and punched me in the gut. I fell down to the ground as Mack let go of me. I was dazed, and I just wanted to die. Suddenly, I felt myself being pelted with a warm liquid.

He was pissing on me.

Meanwhile, I felt another pelt of warm liquid, coming from a different direction, then another. They were using me for a toilet! I tried to crawl away, but Mack kicked me back into a corner.

Once they were done, they all decided they'd had enough. They all returned to their lockers, got dressed and left. I didn't even bother to move. I was bruised, bloody, and stinky. I was such a loser. I sat there and I cried for a good 20 minutes, until Mr. Jamison, the gym teacher, saw me. He told me to get cleaned up and to go to the office.

I went to the office, and I managed to tell the principal what happened. He called me "delusional", and took no action against the other kids. They all still harass me, and even got their girlfriends and siblings involved.

................

When I came to, I was lying down in the nurses' office. Dr. Wood came in to see me.

"Are you okay, Carl? You blacked out there."

"What? Oh yeah, sorry about that."

"It's okay," Dr. Wood said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Your mother is coming to pick you up."

"Thanks, doc," I said.

He just smiled at me and left. I sat there on the bed, waiting, thinking.

Mack has to pay. They all do.

Yes, he did. And he was going to. The next day. My dad has a few guns in the basement. I'd already planned it. There was no turning back.