Scum

Scum

I heard the word again. Looking up, I searched the area around me, trying to find who was saying the word. I’d make sure that it was the last word he would ever say. Nothing, there was no one there. The streets were still empty and apart from a few busy people rushing to get to work on time, there was no one out this early.

I watched them, my eyes searching for my victim. Men in their posh business suits, tucked in their shirts and sipped the last of their coffee. Men with their heads held high, walked about like they owned the place. A few pounds from their pockets wouldn’t go amiss.

I heard the slam of something shutting, a door closing. I looked over my shoulder, sure that I could hear footsteps behind me. Again, no one was there. I was being paranoid. It was early morning, the sun just starting to rise, bringing warmth to what had been a cold night - a bitterly cold night. It was the coldest I’d felt in a long while and it wasn’t yet winter. My butt was still numb from the cold, hard bench I’d had it parked under.

It had been a long night, one I was fairly sure I wouldn’t forget very easily. I was glad that morning had finally come. I’d waited so long, all night long, and still I had nothing. I’d made naught `cept for one stinking wallet. A sleazy tenner was all I got my hands on. Even I knew that wasn’t good. I’d be sure to make up for that today. I couldn’t go back there with nothing but a tenner. Any of these losers would be a good catch. They had more than enough money to spare.

I stopped, my eyes stalking a man that passed me by. He was in a rush, clutching his briefcase, coffee spilling over his crisp, ironed shirt. He looked neat, his face clean-shaven and his hair combed back tidily on his head. He was rich enough; a good victim. I tailed him, keeping a good pace behind.

“You got the time mate?” I asked, patting him lightly on the back of his shoulder. Keep him distracted, slow him up a little. Distractions were good.

“No, sorry lad. I’m in a rush. Ask someone else,” he muttered, looking me up and down, before turning his back on me. Stuck-up cunt. Who did he think he was? His reactions told me to keep at it.

“Scuse me mate, can you spare me some change?” Grinning, I watched him turn round again, his face red. He was starting to piss me off. If I had been a woman with my boobs popping out, then he wouldn’t have thought twice about handing over some money.

“No, I really need to get to work. I’m sure someone else can spare you something.” He took a good look at my appearance once more, before turning his back on me again. Bastard. He wasn’t too busy to take a good look at the filthy state I was in. He was going to pay for that. Today, I had to try anything to get my hands in someone’s pockets. I needed some dosh, and it was obvious he had more than enough.

I kept close behind him, not daring to make a sound. I gently moved my fingers towards his back pocket, and then lifted the brown wallet out carefully. Easy.

I legged it as soon as I was out of sight, a smile on my face as I realised I’d got away with it. Guilt didn’t even pass through me, the man deserved it. Snooty-nosed prick. I’d love to see his face when he realised that I had got the better of him.

I checked it, hoping that it’d be bursting with money. I picked out a couple of ten’s, rolling my fingers through the notes as I counted. Twenty, forty, sixty. There was at least sixty something quid. That wasn’t bad I s`pose, I’d had worse. I checked his cards next, which were full to the brim. His driver’s license was here along with an identity card. I looked at his picture, his hair still neat and tidy. Chad Jenkins. A nice, family name. His date of birth, 17 of October, 1970.

I let out a yawn, rubbing my eyes. Man, I was knackered. I’d had no sleep last night, was sure that some scumbag would arrest me. Sleeping rough was alright, I didn’t mind that so much. I’d done it so many times in the past, long before I even joined the business. The streets had been my home on most nights. They were cold, but I always got through them. I wasn’t bothered by that. What did bother me was the waiting. Waiting around for people to pass me by. Yes, mugging was a lot easier when it was dark and they couldn’t see what was going on. But there were few people out late nowadays, `cept for the drunkards who didn’t have more than a few pounds on them.

The only thing I had to worry about was getting caught. I’d been taught that for weeks, I practically had it drilled into my brain. Do not get caught, and do not grass. Grassers ended up in the hospital, unsure how they got there.

If you didn’t have any money then you’d be dealt with. That was another thing I’d learnt whilst being here. No money meant no food, no shelter and mostly getting your arse kicked.

I yawned again. The bench by the baker’s looked pretty comfortable. Maybe just an hour’s kip wouldn’t be that bad. I could hide the wallet in my trousers, no one would think about looking there, `cept maybe Trigger and his gang. He was good at finding things. He could find me anywhere if he wanted to. I hoped I wouldn’t come across him any time soon. I hadn’t seen him around, not yet.

I decided to skip the bench, I had to stay awake. I had to get back. Last night had been hard enough. Standing around waiting wasn’t helping my earnings, so I decided to go near a pub. I could easily make some money there. I walked into the shadows, deciding that it would be a woman. I was sure they would give me all they had as soon as they saw the knife in my pocket.

But, when a woman did pass me by, I did nothing. I watched her, slumping home in her high heels, nearly tripping over. She was a prostitute, I knew that just by looking at her. Her face was plastered in make-up that was smudged all over her face. She was wearing knee-high stockings with a plaid skirt high above her knees, so high that I would have been able to see the colour of her knickers if it were light enough. On her upper half she wore a boob tube, one that showed off too much cleavage. She looked a drunken state. Mugging her was going to be easy.

I held tight onto my weapon, drawing closer to her. She was pretty, under all that make-up and clothing and I could smell something sweet and flowerily beyond the booze. She reminded me of my mum. Maybe she had kids too, kids that didn’t deserve what I was going to do. I decided to let her go. I told myself to get a grip, that she was some slut who was asking for it, but I stood still. I didn’t want her pimp hassling me, so I let her pass.

I hoped that the next one would be a bloke, any bloke, as long as he was drunk. Then, I saw him. The man was out of it. I watched him, swaying from side to side and tripping over his own feet as he walked on home. His eyes were red and bloodshot and a mess of hair hung in his mouth, sick hanging from it. His shirt was torn, and his nose bloody, specks of blood dripping onto the cobbled floor below. Looks like he’d gotton into a fight already. His trainers were stained a yellowish colour, splattered with what appeared to be drink or sick, I didn’t know which. It would be easy enough to grab him when he least expected it. Easy enough to grab hold of the thing in my pocket.

He made it easy for me. As soon as I was ready to lunge at him he tripped over again. This time hitting his face hard on the stony cobbles below him. He didn’t get up, had fallen unconscious from the amount of drink he’d managed to pour down his throat. I grabbed his wallet from his pocket when I had the chance. Then, I knocked on the nearest door, walking away as soon as I heard voices. I didn’t wait around to see what happened. It was his fault after all.

Scum.

I heard the word again. Over and over again. That’s what they were all thinking. That’s what all these passers by wanted to say. Scum, trash, filth, dirt. People didn’t have to tell me that to let me know what they were thinking. I could see by their faces. They turned their noses the other way when I passed, crossed over the road when I came near. I didn’t blame them, I probably smelt like I’d slept in a bin for the night.

I zipped my hoodie up, pulling it up and over my head and hiding my big, dumbo ears. Dumbo. I’d grown up with that name. Ever since I was young, kids always teased me about the size of my ears.

I remember once when mum came storming into my school. Some dumb kid decided to pull on them, “How come they stick out so much?” he asked as I went at him with the only thing I had, a pencil. Next thing I know I’m in the principals office, waiting for my mum to come pick me up. I got suspended for that, but mum was having none of it. She was yelling and screaming before she’d even entered the room, “this place is a load of crap. That kid had it coming, what else was he gonna do, sit back and take it?” I never went back to that school again.

I had always been sensitive about my ears, and even though I’ve grown used to the teasing, they were the words that hurt me the most. Just cause I knew it was true. They did stick out, much more than they should. I was content on hiding them, growing my hair a little longer to cover them. But that just made it worse and I found myself being teased more. It wasn’t just my ears either. I wasn’t exactly great looking. Dark, blonde hair that was too flat and wouldn’t grow straight enough to cover my ears properly. Big, brown eyes the colour of mud, freckles that ran along the bridge of my nose and a baby-face that made me look too young. I was nothing special. Mum had always said I took after my dad, whoever that was. He was one ugly fucker, and I certainly hadn’t inherited her looks.

The sounds of low muttering had me turning around. I decided to place a hand in my pocket, holding tight onto the handle of the object. It was still here, I had to check just for comfort. I was glad that I’d brought it along. I was being followed, I could feel a presence around me. Someone was watching me. I look around, no one there. But I was sure I was being followed. I knew there was more than one of them, I could feel several eyes searching me from different places. I look again, but still I see nothing.

I walked on cautiously, panic rising. I knew they were waiting somewhere, ready for me. Don’t run I thought, carry on as normal. Running would only create more attention. I came across the bridge, deciding not to walk over it but to take the pathway through the trees instead. It was darker, but it would be much quicker getting back.

I was already halfway through the trees and still I could see nothing. I sighed with relief. I wasn’t being followed, it was just me being paranoid. Besides, Trigger and his lot would probably still be at home in bed, tucked up like babies. I wish I could see them now, all vulnerable and innocent. They’d have a shock if they saw me, peering in at the window, a knife in my hand. I wondered what their mother’s would think when they knew what their darling little boys were really like.

I stopped; dead in my tracks. Out in front of me I could see two figures standing near one of the trees. Shit. I looked behind me. Three more figures were now coming towards me. Five of them, bloody five. Crap. I searched around frantically, looking for a way out, somewhere I could run. But there was no way out. I was trapped.

“Haley, fancy seeing you around here,” Trigger leered, drawing in closer. I heard footsteps behind me, knowing that the rest were approaching. Haley. I hated that name. Ever since I’d started school last year, that was the name I was given, the name that was on the school’s register. Haley Russell. It was a horrid name, a girl’s name, only meant for people like Haley Joel Osment. You know, that boy from Sixth Sense, the “I see dead people” one. Yeah, him. Haley wasn’t my real name, the name I’d had at birth. That name was long gone.

I pulled my hoodie down hard, somehow hoping this would hide me. Run. Run now while I had the chance. But I couldn’t move. My body was stiff. I was glued to the ground. My heart was beating fast. Boom. Boom. Boom. So fast that I was certain they could hear it. Stand your ground, keep your head up. Try not to show them you’re afraid. But they were like animals, predators. They could smell my fear, feel it running through me. My fear kept them going.

They cornered me, all five of them in a circle. I put my hand in my pocket, holding tight onto the object and forcing myself to pull it out. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t even hold it straight. It was only a small, kitchen knife, one that wouldn’t do much damage. I’d handled much bigger ones before. But it was sharp enough if I needed it to be.

“Stay away from me,” I threatened, backing further away from the leader of the gang. They encircled me, herding me forward, closer to him.

“Well, well, what have we here, a knife? Been a busy boy have we?” His voice held scorn and he pulled out something sharp. A lump formed in the back of my throat. The others followed his lead. It was five daggers against one small kitchen knife. And daggers could do a lot of damage. My heart hammered harder. This was not good. My instincts were telling me to run, but I daren’t.

I looked at the gang, their hoodies up, faces hidden. I still knew who they were. Smithy, Eddie, and Dodger, Trigger’s little cronies. They stood near the back, playing keep out. They each had their own little traits, something they were good at. Dodger was the fastest, he could outrun anyone. Hence the name “Dodger.” Eddie was the sly one. He was quick on his feet and very clever. Smithy was the dumbest of the lot, though his big body made up for that. He was good with his fists, pounding them hard into anything that he could. Trigger was all of them built into one. He was good with a weapon and enjoyed watching people’s humiliation, especially mine.

The fifth member was a girl. I wouldn’t have realised she was a girl if I hadn’t looked into her face. Her hair was pulled back under her hood. She appeared to have a man’s body, hiding away her curves with big, baggie clothing. I knew her well, and I wasn’t the least surprised that she was here. Roxie. My old girlfriend, and unfortunately for me Trigger’s new one. Ever since she’d been dating him he’d had it in for me. Not like he didn’t have it in for me before, but now it was twice as bad. She’d been one of us not so long ago. Beating up her younger brother had been a mistake, one that she made sure I knew daily.

“How much you got, big ears?” she spat, drooling up a mouthful of saliva and spitting in my face. One, big green loogie. The horrid, slimy feel made me want to gag. But, I let it roll down my face, not daring to move a hand to wipe it away in case I lost the only thing I had left for protection. Dirty bitch. You dirty, dirty bitch.

“Nothing. I got nothing,” I lied, trying to sound convincing. I was such a bad liar and my body was already shaking. Stop it! Don’t show them you’re afraid.

“Pin him,” I heard, not even sure whose voice it was.

My arms were pulled back, and the knife was now in Trigger’s hands. I struggled, trying to break free. They pinned my body against the tree, their hands searching me.

“Piss off,” I croaked, my voice breaking. I was having a hard time trying to control my breathing. I was sure they could hear my heavy pants.

“Language, that’ll cost you. Been busy have we?” he asked. He pulled the wallet out of my pocket, rolling the money in his fingers.

“Looks like it,” I knew that this was going to get me into bigger trouble, but the words were out of my mouth before I could help it.

“Watch the cheek too, scum.”

“Listen, that’s all I have. You can beat the hell out of me if you want,” I knew a good thumping was coming my way “just please. Give me it back. I need it,”

Please? Please? Why the hell did I say please? Stupid, now they certainly wouldn’t give me it back. And, I’d also given them a good excuse to beat me. You can beat me if you want. Who goes around saying that? Me, that’s who.

“That desperate are we?”

Yes, that desperate. Desperate enough for them to beat the crap out of me and get it over with already.

He drew closer, smoothing his fingers against the knife in a sadistic manner. Oh god, no. Please no. You know that thing they say, where your whole life flashes before your eyes? Well, that was happening now. I saw myself, six years old, hugging my mum goodbye as she went out for the night. I saw myself again at eight, making my own food and eating it at the table. Then again at thirteen, cowering under my blankets. Listening out for the sound of the door creaking open, and seeing the shadow of a figure standing in the hallway…

He pressed it sharply against my arm, his eyes wide. The others continued laughing, enjoying my fear. Do not beg. I could not beg. Just let him do it.

“Don’t!” I found myself pleading, wishing that I could just keep my mouth shut.

“Don’t what?”

“Please” I begged. I cowered back, my body against the tree.

“I thought you liked this? Roxie was telling me you turned emo on her last year. Weren’t you Roxie?”

“Yeah, the freak was at it with a razor. I asked him what he was doing and he just smiled at me and asked me to join in,” I shook my head. No, it wasn’t like that. The slag was lying.

“Are you calling my girl a liar? She doesn’t lie, not like you, you scumbag,” I kept quiet. Let him call me a scumbag. It was better than having my arms sliced.

“So, I don’t see what the difference is. I mean, a razor doesn’t do much damage. You should really be thanking me for putting you out of your misery. What’s the difference then?” he forced my sleeve up, running the knife smoothly along the little scars that ran along my wrist.

“I asked you what the difference is, you freak,” I kept quiet, lost for words.

“There is no difference, if there was you’d answer me. Don’t get enough attention, is that it? I’ll give you all the attention you want.” Attention? This had nothing to do with attention. That was the last thing I wanted. I felt sick with myself, why was I letting them do this? I couldn’t even stand up for myself.

“Stand back guys, there might be some blood,” he snickered, his dark eyes glaring into mine. I tightened my eyes, praying. He couldn’t be serious this time, could he?

“He’s bricking it,”

“Please,” I begged again, hating myself for doing so. What had turned me into such a coward?

“Please, please. Did you hear that guys? Roxie’s Johnny did nothing but stand his ground as you laid into him, you gutless coward. After I’m finished with you, you’re gonna wish you’d never been born.” Like I haven’t heard that one before. “But it’s not like you don’t wish that already.”

How much had Johnny told them? Everything? That was between him and me, no one else. I’d trusted him, we were mates. Had been mates. Until he turned out to be just like everyone else.

“You’ve had this coming for a long time. Now!” he yelled, a smile on his face. That was the signal. I got myself ready. I knew this was coming, but I still hadn’t prepared myself for the worst when it happened. They pounced on me, dragging me to the ground.

Roxie didn’t join, and I was glad of that. She may be a girl, but she could fight dirty. She was one mad bitch when she needed to be.

After they finished beating the crap out of me, they stopped, panting for breathe. It was only now that I realised Roxie had a phone. She’d been recording this the whole time. I curled myself into a ball, hiding my face away.

“Smile,” she laughed. I was going to get them back for this. Every one of them. I would get them one at a time. I’d make them go on their knees and beg for forgiveness.

They forced me up by my hair, pulling the camera in front of my face. My image blurred as I felt tears pooling in my eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

“Worthless little shit. Not so brave now are we? Scum.” I braced myself as he kicked me full force in the face, making sure to get me hard in the jaw. My head snapped back hard from the force of it and my knee’s buckled below me. I found myself on the ground again, my face smacking hard against the dirt. Blood poured in my mouth as it spilt open. Tightening my lips hard I forced myself to taste it, not daring to spit it out. They’d really laid into me this time.

“What are you? Scum, that is what you are. Stupid, self-harming scum. Say it” I stayed quiet; the words I wanted to say didn’t come. Fuck you, fuck you all. That’s what I really wanted to say. He waved his shoe over my face as I focused hard on the pattern. I braced myself again as he slammed his foot down hard. I heard a crunch, then a burning sensation in my nose that sent tears of pain from my eyes. I let them come, feeling them roll down my face. I knew that this video would be all round the school by tomorrow.

“Say it!”

“Scum, I’m scum,” I muttered, more tears falling. Now that I’d started I couldn’t stop them from coming.

“Good. Those trainers are nice. Not good enough for you,” he pulled them off my feet, leaving me shoeless.

“This is hilarious Trig, watch it,” she handed him the phone, laughing as if this was some funny video of someone else falling over or getting hurt.

He crouched down lower to my level, replaying the video for me to see. I turned away, feeling sick with myself.

“Shall we send it to Johnny boy? He’d like a little pay back, don’t you think?”

I would have laughed at that comment if I had the guts. They knew nothing. Johnny wasn’t like that, and I knew he hadn’t changed. No one knew him like I did, not even Roxie.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, giving me a hard kick in the stomach.

“Don’t own one.” I mumbled, my insides aching.

“Don’t own one? What kind of freak are you? You’ll own one by tomorrow lunchtime. Meet me by the school gates, got that?” what? so you can give me another battering, you think I’ll agree with that? There was no damn way I was going to school tomorrow. I wasn’t that stupid.

“You got that? Be best if you turned up, or next time there’ll be more than just fists. Get my meaning?”

“Okay,” I gasped, trying not to move. I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. I wasn’t doing fuck all he told me.

“Come on, we better go. I’ll see you lunch time Dumbo, bye bye” he said, speaking to me like a little kid.

“I’ll see you around, you little scum,” Roxie said, making sure to get a good kick in when she had chance. Bitch.

They left me there on the floor, gasping for air. I heard them running, heard sounds of laughter fading as they grew further away.

“Bastards. Fucking bastards” I screamed at the top of my voice, knowing that they would be too far away to hear me.