To the biggest bully who is now, thankfully, out of my life:

May you burn in Hell for an Eternity of suffering.

I am a damaged soul because of you.

FROM THE SAME AUTHOR

Love Life

The Vampire’s Treaty

(The Peter Chronicles)

Happy Ever After

G.S.O.H Essential

A Fresh Start

PETER

All Good Things

9 Months Book One

9 Months Book Two

9 Months Book Three

Non-Fiction titles

im fine

PlentyOfFreaks

Wasting Stamps

Self-publishing: Releasing your book to the digital market

Short Story Collections

Scribblings From a Dark Place

Reviews, Critics & Mystery Shopping

The Story Collection: Volume One

Novellas

Smile

The Dead Don’t Knock

Writer’s Block

Buried

The Last Stop

The Chosen Routes

A Christmas to Remember (YOU choose the story)

Romance is Dead

The Breakdown

Picture Books

I Hate Fruit & Veg

© Matt Shaw

The right of Matt Shaw to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any format without written consent from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for insertion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast.

The characters, and story, in this book are purely fictitious. Any likeness to person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

WITH THANKS TO:

Elena Helfrecht of Apokryphia Art

For the awesome job she did with the cover design and photography.

You can see more of her work at:

http://apokryphiaart.deviantart.com

http://apokryphiaart.jimbo.com

Or look her up on Facebook!

A note from the Author

Although I don’t believe violent acts should be answered with more violence, I have to say I really am sick and tired of hearing about people bullying each other. More and more, in the news, you hear about youngsters who have killed themselves because of what they’d had to go through from their colleagues and fellow human beings. They kill themselves because they feel as though it’s their only option. They don’t feel as though they can go and speak out to friends, or adults, without fear of making the situation worse.

At school I was bullied. Even today I’m not sure what made me a target compared to all the other people in the school (although I’m not stupid enough to think I was the only one going through it). I never went around asking to be bullied. They just seemed to find me. It wasn’t like I was even an easy target. They’d call me a name...I’d punch them. Hell, after repeatedly being called gay by one individual, I even beat him repeatedly around the head with a carrier bag which contained some rugby boots! I can look back and laugh now because no damage was really done and I didn’t get into any major trouble but, at the time, it was horrific...Both the name-calling and what I did as my act of revenge...

I guess, when my dad called me a ‘nasty, vindictive little bastard’ he was right. Ah well...

Remember, I’m not saying violence is the answer. If you’re being bullied, or know someone who is getting grief, tell someone. Don’t keep it a secret and, for God’s sake, don’t act out aggressively or do anything else stupid. You obviously enjoy reading, after all you’re reading this book, but I bet you don’t like reading about suicides or murder / suicides as witnessed in various schools across our messed up real-life world.

Matt

PROLOGUE

Just like every other day I was the last one into the classroom. It wasn’t because I was late. Most days I was early as I opted to get the earlier bus to avoid the crowds and my fellow classmates. It was just easier that way - with regards to getting the earlier bus and being one of the last into the classroom.

With my heart pounding hard in my chest I stepped into the classroom just behind Mrs Price, the teacher, who paid me little attention as she briskly walked across to her desk, in her tight-fitting black pencil skirt and white blouse, in front of the pupils. I closed the door and pulled the window-blind down to stop people from being able to look in. This was something I didn’t usually do. Normally I was happy for other teachers to poke their noses in - to make sure we were behaving while our teacher had her back to us as she scribbled on the blackboard. Today, though, I don’t welcome their attention.

By the time I turned away from the heavy oak door Mrs Price was staring at me with a look of contempt on her face; an expression she regularly adopted whilst looking at me through no fault of my own. I’m almost positive she’s fairly pretty, with her curly shoulder length blonde hair, big blue eyes and full lips painted heavily in a seductive red lipstick...It’s had to be sure whether she is actually pretty or not...under that stern expression. It was fair to say she was one of the stricter teachers. I didn’t move. Part of me wanted to go and take my usual seat in the front row of the classroom; as far away from Piers and his friends as I could possibly get without sitting in the teacher’s lap. The other part of me wanted to carry on as I had planned.

Mrs Price folded her arms. You knew she was angry when she did this. First came the deathly stare which could penetrate the most hardened of souls and then came the folding of the arms. Next up she’ll speak in a tone which would send most sane men running for the hills for fear of spontaneously combusting at the sound of her voice. I pity her husband. After a few warning words, which were normally laced with sarcasm, she’d suddenly flip a switch and start shouting.

A quick scan of my fellow classmates showed they were all looking at me. Some of them looked worried for me and others just sat there with a sadistic look of glee upon their faces as they waited to enjoy the floor show Mrs Price and I were about to put on for them. All of them were thankful they weren’t standing in my shoes at this precise moment. I’m starting to wish I had waited for my second class of the day to do this. Mr Smart was a much friendlier teacher.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you were teaching the class today,” said Mrs Price with just about the right level of sarcasm I was expecting. A few quiet sniggers from around the classroom. I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, blocking the doorway whilst wondering whether this was the right thing to do.  Had I really planned it through? It’s too late now. There’s no turning back. With my left hand shaking I reached into my rucksack, which was one-strapped over my right shoulder. I froze. I could feel it in my hand but part of me was still screaming that this wasn’t the right thing to do; screaming there were better ways of dealing with things...

“Shut up!” I whispered under my breath to the part of me which was scared. I knew this was the right thing to do. It had been building for far too long. They had it coming. They all did. Everything that was to follow, when I pulled my hand from the rucksack, is deserved and I refuse to let the scared part of me, the quiet side of my personality, ruin the enjoyment I’m going to get.

“What did you say?” said Mrs Price; a tone of voice I had never heard before. Neither had the rest of the class. A quick scan of my classmates showed they had all sunk back, ever so slightly, in their uncomfortable grey plastic chairs. The ones who previously had gleeful smiles upon their faces were now sat expressionless so as not to attract the attention of Mrs Price. Their faces were white as they feared what they were about to witness. They have no idea. Today, it’s not Mrs Price they need to fear.

It’s me.

I pulled my hand from my rucksack, my father’s 9mm Glock, gripped firmly in my palm with my index finger on the trigger and my other fingers around the handle. Everyone screamed, even Mrs Price. Need to control them. Need to silence them. Don’t want to attract any unwanted attention. I don’t need this to be any worse than I already have planned.

“I said shut up!” I hissed. I pointed the gun at Mrs Price first. She fell backwards onto the floor. I couldn’t help but smile a little. All those years of her shouting the odds at us. All those years of her believing she was untouchable. It was nice to see her fall. I span the gun around to point at my classmates. Some of whom were cowering behind their hands, as though they had the power to stop a bullet should I choose to fire, whilst others were trying to get under their desks. The sadistic part of me was surprised no one tried to make a dash for me. No one tried to wrestle the gun away from me. No one tried to control the situation. I’m glad. I don’t want the sound of gunfire. Not yet. That would have ruined everything I have planned. The fact they’re all petrified. It should make controlling them that much easier...

The 8th

It was weird seeing Mrs Price sitting in the front row, amongst the pupils who despised her so much. Not just because I was used to seeing her at the front of the class berating someone but...Her expression...Tears in her eyes, a pale complexion...Shaking...She’s shaking. I’ve never seen that before. Not from a woman who presents herself as being so domineering. Speaking of ‘domineering’ I had often heard Piers talking to his little gang, discussing whether Mrs Price would look good in skin-tight latex with a whip in her hand. The majority of the group said she would. Some of them even admitted to masturbating to the thought of her like that...One of the group said the bulge of her penis would ruin the overall look. Seeing her, sat here now...There’s nothing manly about her. There’s nothing domineering. She’s a nothing. Maybe I should get her to stand up and prove to Piers and his gang that she doesn’t have a cock hidden under her black pencil skirt. No. That’s not fair. This isn’t about belittling her despite what she puts us through on a day to day basis. At the end of the day she is just being strict to keep us in control. Outside of the school she’s probably a human. Deep down. Somewhere.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a meek voice. I have to confess, she surprised me. Most of the time there was a little masculinity in her voice but not now. Now she sounded like a scared little girl. Had you not seen who it was speaking you could have been forgiven for thinking it was one of the school’s many female pupils talking.

I didn’t answer her. Instead I reached across to her pile of folders, which she had placed on the desk when she first came into the room, and picked up the  one labelled as ‘registration’. I flicked it open to the first page; a list of names of the boys and girls who should be sat in front of me for this lesson.

“When I call out your name,” I said, “please say here.” One by one I called out the various names from the list in front of me, not that I needed a list. I knew their names; my classmates. The people who had tormented me day in and day out for the past two years whether it was by name-calling or physical abuse. I won’t ever forget their names. And after today, people won’t forget my name either. Minutes later and the roll-call was done. No-one was absent for a change. Good. I’d have hated for them to miss this.

I put the folder down and cast my eyes around the class. It’s unfortunate some of them are here and have to witness this. In a class of twenty-five there are some who are like me. They don’t deserve to be here. They don’t deserve what’s coming. I don’t have a choice but to include them, though. If I let them go, they’ll no doubt inform someone what is happening in here. If I were in their shoes I know I’d go and get help if I was let out.  My gaze fixed upon Rebecca Clarke who was sitting in the middle of the classroom, towards one of the walls. Rebecca was one of the louder girls in the class. She was more centered upon sleeping with as many of the boys as she could as opposed to soaking useful information. If the rumors are to be believed, and I have no reason to doubt them, she’s swallowed more cum than I’ve had hot meals. Of course she doesn’t struggle to attract the boy’s attention looking the way she does; long dark hair down to her petite waist and large breasts enhanced further by a tight-fitting school shirt. Unlike a lot of the other girls who chose to wear trousers, she always opted for the skirt. She even took the time, in lunch-breaks, to roll it up a little to show off more leg. Sometimes she rolls it up so much you can’t help but think of it as nothing more than a belt. Pregnant by eighteen, I reckon.

Rebecca had her mobile phone in her hand and was frantically pressing buttons. I picked the handgun off the table and pointed it directly at her, looking down the aiming sights. It’s a little scary how easy it is to end her little life right about now. A simple squeeze of my trigger finger and her brains will be all over David Barlow who was sitting behind her. Poor David. He’s one of the good ones. Whenever I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself, I’d be feeling sorry for him. Unlike Rebecca, we both at least tried hard in class. We just struggled to ‘get it’ most of the time. Our stupidity was a great source of entertainment to the other classmates - some of whom were just as baffled as David and I by what we were being taught. The only difference was, they simply didn’t care.

“Rebecca,” I said. My voice was calm. No sense shouting. There’s no need. Not all the time I have a gun. Rebecca looked up and froze when she realised she was staring down the barrel of a 9mm pistol, “be a good girl and pass your mobile phone to me...”

“I wasn’t doing anything...” she tried to tell me. How stupid does she think I am? Well, soon she’ll realise I’m someone to be reckoned with. She realised her words were of no use and slowly stood up. “Please don’t shoot...” she whimpered. She looks scared but it’s hard to feel sorry for her. Every time I look at her I just remember that night; her hand on my leg, her breath against my ear, the words she whispered, the glint in her eye as she gave my crotch a squeeze...

“I said give me your phone.”

She walked up to the front of the class and put her phone on the teacher’s desk where I was sat. I didn’t take my eyes off her. That night, the rare occasion I was actually invited to one of the many school parties, she thought it was a good idea to pretend to want me. Whispering sweet nothings into my ear she told me how she had always wanted to make love to me but was too scared to make a move. Part of me knew she was just winding me up but another part of me, the lonely part, wanted to believe her. I was stupid. Rebecca isn’t the sort of girl who enjoys ‘making love’. She just wants to fuck people. Trying to be clever, she got me aroused as Piers and his gang waited outside with their mobile phones at the ready...

“Is that everything?” she asked, her quivering voice pulled me back to the present. I shook my head. No, that’s not everything. “You can see, I didn’t send any messages...” I pushed back on the chair to put some distance between myself and the table - enough of a gap to allow her through.

“Get under the table,” I said.

“What?”

Rebecca’s punishment was easy to think of. Ever since that night it’s all I have really thought about. Forcing her to do what she teased. Now’s a good a time as any. “Get under the table,” I said.

“No...”

I stood up and walked over to her with the gun still raised. I pressed it against her skull and she made a funny whimpering noise. She sounded a little like a dog crying when you stand on its tail. “I said...Get...Under...The...Table...”

She nodded and stepped round me to get to the space under the table. As soon as she was under there I sat down on the chair again, and rolled myself closer to the desk. Underneath the table I had a leg either side of Rebecca. I could hear her crying but it didn’t bother me.

“Please...This has gone far enough...” said Mrs Price. I shot her a glare. I haven’t started yet. She fell silent.

With my spare hand I unzipped my trousers, out of sight of the rest of the class although they knew what I was doing, and pulled my penis out. Semi hard already. Not sure whether that’s because of the control I have over everyone or because of what I’m about to get from Rebecca.

“Did you know,” I said to Mrs Price, “I went to a party once and Rebecca was there. She was telling me how much she liked me and had always wanted to make love to me. She was being so kind. I’d never felt that from someone before...Kindness to that extent. A feeling of worth, you know. She was saying all sorts of nice things. She was touching me. Kissing me. Stroking me through my trousers. I honestly thought all my birthdays had come at once when she started to unbutton me...” I could hear Rebecca crying from underneath the table saying how sorry she was but I didn’t care, “...The next thing I know Piers and his little friends burst in on us...Laughing...Pointing their camera phones at me...Some of them videoing...I was just sat there exposed in more ways than one...I don’t know how many people saw that video...The video they were even kind enough to email over to me...You know, that night when I got home...I tied a noose round my neck and sat on the edge of my bed thinking it was the best thing to do...Hang myself...Only the thought of my mum and dad finding me swinging in the morning stopped me from actually doing it. You know how it feels to feel that low...Like you can’t go on living?”

“Think of your mum and dad now,” said Mrs Price.

I shook my head. “I’ll never be the son they want. I know that now. They want someone academically bright. They want someone who can make something of their lives. That isn’t me. I’m a nothing. I’m a nobody. If it weren’t for what’s to come today - no one would remember me when I’m gone. No one...Rebecca...put it in your mouth. If I feel teeth...I’ll shoot your friends.”

“This isn’t the way,” said Mrs Price, “we can suspend them all whilst we look into this...We can...”

“Rebecca...What are you waiting for?” I said interrupting Mrs Price from her desperate flow. A thousand jolts of electricity shot through my body as I felt Rebecca’s fingers brush against my hardening penis. Just as good as I had always imagined. I couldn’t help but close my eyes for the briefest of seconds as I felt her warm mouth envelope my shaft, sliding down to the base. Feels so fucking good. I knew it would. Slightly flustered, I addressed the rest of the class, “One by one, I want you all to bring your mobile phones to the desk...Starting with you...” I pointed the gun in the direction of Craig Clemo, a dark haired lad with big brown eyes who sat on the far right of the classroom, against the wall. I didn’t mind Craig. He’s a bit of a nothing like me. When the bullies are out in force he just keeps his head down and doesn’t get involved. I sometimes wonder how different my school days would have been if I had chosen his coping mechanisms too. Had I not stood up for David Barlow when Piers was picking on him would Piers ever have known of my existence or could I have just ghosted my way through his life?

Craig stood up and brought his phone to the front of the class. He put it on the desk and walked back to his seat.

“You,” I said pointing the gun to Rachel, who sat behind him. She too stood up and dropped her phone onto the desk. When she sat down the next person brought their phone forward too without having to be asked. I smiled and sat back. Whilst they’re doing that it affords me the time to enjoy what Rebecca is doing. A flicking sensation on the tip of my penis, with what feels to be her tongue. A gentle tickling around my scrotum. All those years of practicing have   most certainly paid off for her. I couldn’t help but sigh as her mouth slipped down the shaft once more before sliding back up. Faster..Faster...Slower. Teasing. But nicely so. I wonder if the other girls in the class are as good as this. My eyes fix upon Mrs Price. I wonder if she’s as good...

A tingling sensation, not dissimilar to pins and needles, spreads through the tops of my legs. The pleasurable, familiar feeling of an orgasm about to hit. I tried my best not to show it in my face as I continued staring at Mrs Price, wondering what it would be like to fuck her. I moved my spare hand under the table and held Rebecca’s head in place. Just in time too. She tried to pull away from me as I ejaculated into her mouth. Hold her there. Listen how she chokes it down. Good girl. I released my grip on the back of her head and let her move away. I can hear that she’s crying. Was it really that bad?

A feeling of guilt rushed through me as I suddenly became aware of everyone looking at me. Watching my every move. Watching me cum. I pushed my cock, coated in Rebecca’s saliva, back into my trousers and zipped myself up. What have I done? What have I become? I don’t recognise myself anymore.

Another new school to find my way around. I love my dad but I don’t love what he does for a living. Constantly moving house and taking mum and I with him, leaving behind friends I’ve only just met...Having to start again from scratch. Catching up in classes I already struggle with because they’ve chosen different books to study from the last school I attended. I hate being the outsider. The one who can’t find any friendly faces amongst the crowds. It’s always the same. Go to school. Get lost looking for class. Arrive at class late, or with a teacher escort - which is far worse...Stand in front of the room and introduce yourself. Explain why you’re new to the town. Sit in the only spare seat, in the front of the classroom, and feel the gaze of every pupil fix upon you for the rest of whatever lesson it is, awkwardly share books with someone who’d rather you had your own...A pile of homework to catch up on; mainly reading assignments you know you’ll never be able to complete. Yes, I love my dad but I hate that we have to move around so much.

“Have a good day, honey,” my mum called out. I turned back to her, when I got to the school gates, and saw her waving frantically. I should wave back but it’s embarrassing enough that she just called me ‘honey’ in earshot of other people who may or may not be in my classroom. I gave her a faint smile and turned towards the school. Here we go again.

The first days are always the worst. At least by the end of the first day you  have normally made one friend; someone to look out for on the second and third day whilst you establish new friendships. As I scanned the various faces in the crowd walking with me to the front door, I wondered whether any of them were likely to be my new friends. I have to say...On first impressions none of them look to be that friendly! Not even through the front door yet and I feel uncomfortable. Not the best of starts I think to myself as I hear the random mutterings of small groups that I pass all wondering who the ‘new kid’ is and how ‘weird’ I look.

How they can say I look ‘weird’ is beyond me. Across the car park, in the corner, I saw a group all dressed in black. Even the boys had make-up on from what I could see. Another group, in the same car park, all wore matching clothes with their hair styled in various multi-coloured spikes...And here I am dressed in faded blue jeans, a black hooded top with the hood down and newish white trainers - which, admittedly, are a little on the bright side but I expect that’ll change after a couple of days schooling here. My hair is the natural brown colour I was born with, I’m clean shaven. My eyes are the same  dark brown colour as each other, unlike the girl I just walked by who seemed to have one blue eye and one green...Yet people are saying I’m the weird one. If anything, I reckon I’ll blend in here. Unless, of course, I decide to take refuge in the car park at any moment. Definitely a place to avoid going to by what I’ve seen.

I pushed the large double doors open and stepped inside  my new place of supposed learning. The familiar smell of ‘school’ hit me as soon as I stepped over the threshold. I don’t know what it is about schools which make them all have the same old musty scent. Perhaps it’s the old text-books we’re to work from? Perhaps it’s those which smell of old-age and death and you just notice it more because there’s so many littered around the building. Perhaps.

The corridor in front of me stretched as far as the eye could see. The walls were lined with tall wooden lockers with occasional gaps between the lockers where the doors were to the various classrooms. What’s the betting this is like all the other schools I’ve been to and the classrooms aren’t in any particular order despite being known, on the timetable, as ‘class one’, ‘class two’ etc etc? The last school I was in, a few towns away from where I am today...The first door I came across was labelled number twenty-four. Days later I found number one stuck in a different wing entirely and even then it wasn’t by the main entrance. Instead it was tucked away on the top floor next to room sixty-five. The first time I noticed this, I can’t even remember what school it was, I thought it was because some bored student had simply gone around swapping door plaques around to confuse people. With all the different schools I’ve been to...I know this isn’t the case. Not unless the person responsible is in the same boat as me and doing it in every school he, or she, is visiting. I doubt it, though.

I stepped to the side of the corridor, to get out of the way of the never-ending sea of students, and reached into my pocket to find my timetable; a small piece of paper with my lessons and classrooms printed upon it which the school posted out to my house about a week ago.

“You new? Looking for somewhere in particular?” asked a quiet male voice from behind me. I turned around and saw a lad of similar age to myself. A mousey-blonde colour to his hair and freckles on his face. A cheeky smile with massive dimples on his cheeks. I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was a smile to be trusted or a smile because he was about to send me in the completely wrong direction just because he could.

“Is that obvious?” I asked.

“Well for starters you’re wearing your rucksack over both shoulders. No one does that in this school unless they’re new. And secondly, you’re looking at your timetable with a look of confusion on your face. You know...Putting two and two together...” he laughed. “Where you headed?”

I checked my timetable, “English with Mrs Jones,” I said.

He smiled wider. “Snap! You may as well follow me,” he volunteered. I thanked him and slipped the timetable back into my pocket. “What’s your name?” he asked after informing me his name was David.

* * * * *

David was looking at me, from his seat just behind Rebecca’s, with a look in his eyes which suggested he had no idea who I was. As I listened to Rebecca’s sobs as she took her seat, I couldn’t help but wonder who I was too. I’m not this person. I’m not. I’m a good person. Normally. I’m like my friend David. I’m one of the good ones. Who I am today...This isn’t me, usually. It’s not. They made me. They turned me into this. Sadistic. Hateful. Vengeful. This is their fault.

I looked around the rest of the classroom. They’re all looking at me with the same look as David. Mrs Price is looking at Rebecca. I can see, in her eyes, that she desperately wants to go and comfort her. She suddenly turned to look at me, as though she could feel my glare burning into the side of her pretty face. I don’t recognise the expression in her eyes. It’s as though she’s asking, ‘what have you done?’ without actually speaking the words. I forgot how much I hated myself, right now, to answer her with a look of my own. I look which told her - ‘I did what she deserved and that was only the beginning’.

I stood up, behind the teacher’s desk, to address the class. I feel as though I should say something. Whilst I am sure some of them know why I am here, I’m positive some of them don’t have a clue. After all, some of my classmates...I’ve hardly spoken to them and, in turn, they’ve hardly spoken to me. It’s only fair, given the circumstances, I give them a chance to understand what I’m doing here. And it’s only fair to let them know, they’ll come to no harm.

“If I call your name, I’d like you to stand up please...David Barlow...” the class went silent, “...Lindsey West...” One by one, when I called out the names, they stood up just as I had requested them to. Each of them looked just as nervous as the one who was called out before. They have nothing to be nervous about. Seven names in total - David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate, Helen. Funny how it’s mainly girl’s names I’m calling out. I guess it’s more in boys’ nature to be cruel to one another. Not for much longer. Not by the time I’m done. And word of what’s to come will soon spread around the town too; a harsh warning to others who may be making similar mistakes as made by Piers and his little friends.

I looked around the classroom at the pupils still sat down. One of them was Craig Clemo. I considered calling his name out too but...I recall him being involved in one of the incidents where I was under fire. He kept his head down. He didn’t offer help or anything. Not even when the group left me alone and I was nursing a bloodied nose. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t offer to get help. Nothing. Just stood there watching me. He can stay sat down.

“If you’re currently standing up...I’m sorry you’re here. Had there been any other way, I would have taken it I can assure you. I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve done nothing wrong to me or, as far as I know, anyone else. If you’d like to come forward...You can bring your chairs...You can sit to the side, near me; out of harm’s way...” There was the briefest of pauses before each of the seven came to the front of the class as I had requested. The rest of the class just looked nervous and confused. “I know you won’t but...Should any of you attempt anything funny...You’ll have to join the rest of your classmates. Understood?”

They nodded. David looked as though he desperately wanted to say something but no words came from his quivering mouth.

Mrs Price asked, “What about me? What have I done?”

I shot her a look, “It’s what you didn’t do...” I know I originally thought this wasn’t about her but Mrs Price is just as bad as some of the students who sit in front of me. The way she berated some of us, in front of the whole class, did nothing for self-esteem and embarrassed us. The more I see her, sitting there...The more I see her as another form of bully.

3.

David led the way to my first classroom. I have to say, it was a nice stroke of luck meeting him. I hate meeting new people; I always feel awkward...Never sure what to say to potential new friends. Normally I just hang around a large group and occasionally laugh at a joke one of them may say. Then, hopefully, one of them will start to include me in their conversations too. Of course, it doesn’t always work like that. Sometimes you can just sit there and be completely ignored. That’s never fun. It makes you feel worthless and insignificant. It was definitely a stroke of luck bumping into David now. I only but hope we share more than one class together.

“Here we are,” said David. He stopped outside a classroom door. “You might not want to go in with me,” he said.

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “Don’t want to be seen with the new guy, huh?” He didn’t answer, just looked away with a sheepish expression on his face - the once cheeky smile now faded. I can’t believe he actually looked worried about being seen with me. I know no one really likes to be seen with the new kid on the block but this was the most extreme I’ve seen it. “Fine, whatever.”

I pushed past him and walked through the busy sounding classroom. The room, full of my new classmates, went quiet as soon as they saw me. I won’t lie, it’s not the most comfortable of welcomes. I felt like a stranger stumbling through a small town for the first time...A town where they aren’t used to seeing a new face. They aren’t used to it and nor do they welcome it.

“Hi,” I said. Unsurprisingly no one answered. I turned back to the door hoping to see David’s once friendly face. He wasn’t there. Well...By myself then. “Okay then...” I muttered, more or less to myself, as I walked over to one of the spare seats at the front of the classroom. I always prefer sitting at the front of the class. I learned long ago that the teacher picks on you more if you choose to sit towards the back of the room as they think you’re not paying any attention to what they’re trying to teach you. I’m sure this teacher will be no different.

I started to root around in my rucksack. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular; simply trying to distract myself from the whisperings coming from behind me. Little voices enquiring who I was and what I was doing here...One voice explaining how bent I looked. A friendly bunch then. In times like these, as sadly it’s not the first time I’ve experienced this, I just have to keep telling myself that everything is going to be okay and they just need the chance to get to know me a little better. Day one is always awkward. By day two - you’re yesterday’s news. Just need to make it through to tomorrow.

“Faggot!” shouted a voice from behind me. I turned away from my rucksack and looked in the direction of the voice. One thing to whisper behind my back, it’s another thing altogether to start name calling me...The insult came from a lad in the back of the class. Of course it was the back. A scruffy, stocky lad with messy blonde hair. He wasn’t looking at me, though. Was the insult even meant for me? I followed his gaze to where David was stood in the doorway of the classroom. David looked anxious. Is this why he didn’t want to come in with me? Worried the lads would pick on me because I was with him? Makes sense. I did think it was weird how he went from being so friendly to so cold. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming in today,” said the boy at the back of the class.

“Just took him longer to wank off Mr Fitzpatrick this morning...” said a lad to the left of the one who started the insults. Laughter rippled through the classroom from most of the students. David didn’t laugh. He simply walked over to an empty chair behind a pretty girl who was also laughing at him.

“Fuck,” said the first lad, “why are you such a fucking faggot? Your mum and dad must be gutted to have you as a son. Oh wait, your mum’s dead isn’t she? Surprised I forgot that. After all, it was only last night I was skull fucking her corpse...Still...Your dad isn’t dead. Probably just wishes he was. I reckon he’s sat at home now wondering why his son is such a bender...”

“Maybe he’s using you as his role model,” I said. I couldn’t help but speak up. David was visibly upset and this was obviously a daily occurrence. No sooner had the words escaped my mouth then the class fell silent. The lad looked at me; a look of hatred in his blue eyes.

“Fuck you say?”

“Well I too was wondering how he’s as gay as he is...The way he so expertly sucks cocks...The only way I can see someone his age, being so great at swallowing spunk, is if he had a role model. I look around here and the only possibility is you and your bum-chum friends.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“You don’t recognise me? I’m the one who was fucking your mother late last night...Could have sworn I saw you hiding in the cupboard tugging yourself off at the sight of my fine ass and your mum’s pert breasts.”

The lad stood up and started to walk over to me. I think it’s fair to say we’re never likely to be friends even though most of the other classmates were finding me hysterical.

“Take your seats!” shouted a female voice from the front of the classroom. I looked around and saw a pretty female teacher. I think it’s fair to say she couldn’t have timed that better if she had tried.

I turned my back on the lad. He wasn’t going to try anything with the teacher there. Who knows, maybe he’ll have a chance to calm down during this lesson? Don’t really care either way. Bullies like him...They’re all talk. I’ve met his kind before. I shot David a quick look and smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling back. He almost looked apologetic.

* * * * *

I recalled seeing that expression on David’s face the first day when I had stood up for him. He looked sorry for thinking he had got me involved in his troubles. I want to tell him this isn’t his fault. I want to tell him that they had brought it upon themselves. I want to tell him but I don’t. I turned back to the rest of the class. They all look worried. No doubt they’re wishing I had called their names out too. Give them a way out. Looking around at the remaining classmates, I didn’t realise there were so many who had wronged me. I can’t help but think it would have been better picking a double lesson to do this. Where to start? Where to start? Given the fact I might not get to everyone...Only one place to start really...

* * * * *

As another fist connected to my already bloodied nose, I couldn’t help but think - through the intense pain flowing through my body - day two was already worse than day one.

I dropped to my knees, on the bathroom floor, and tried to focus my vision. I could hear David screaming from the far side of the room as he was receiving the same treatment. My blurred vision snapped back to the best focus it was able to...Just in time to see Piers, the lad who I had had a run in on day one, spit at me.

“Not such a smart-arse now are you?”

I wish I could come back with a witty retort but my brain is telling me I’ve taken enough of a beating for today. Another fist to the face floored me. I didn’t move. I just laid there on the tiled floor, near the puddles of piss by the urinal, wishing for it to end. At least I think that’s what I am thinking about. So many thoughts buzzing through my brain that it’s hard to make sense of many of them. Another fist flew towards my face in a blurred motion. This will hurt...

By the time I could hear my thoughts clear enough to make sense of them, they were being drowned out by the sound of David’s voice. He was crying. My eyes focused on my surroundings. Still on the toilet floor, the stench of stale urine filling one of my nostrils. My other nostril blocked with blood. Every part of me aches.

“I’m sorry,” said David again. He helped me to my feet. He looked just as battered as I did although, I think it’s fair to say, I took the brunt of it. Probably deserved after sticking up for him yesterday.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” I said. Even my voice sounded broken. “Besides,” I lied, “I quite enjoyed that.” Not sure why I do that, trying to put a brave face on and all that. Not the first time I’ve used that as a defense mechanism for when I’m in agonising pain.

“If you hadn’t stuck up for me yesterday,” he started to say...

“I wouldn’t have been much of a friend,” I interrupted. Even had I known the beating I was to endure, I still would have spoken up yesterday. I hate bullies. They’re nothing more than cowards hiding behind their little friends. Normally picking on the weaker people just to try and make themselves feel better about their own miserable lives. Fuck them. We both looked at ourselves in the mirror. “Remember...” I said, “...The first rule of Fight Club is...Don’t talk about Fight Club.” David laughed and suddenly grabbed his jaw as a bolt of pain shot through him.

Surely Day Three will be easier.

4.

I think I’d make a good teacher. I believe I have the voice for it. The right amount of authority in my tone.

“Piers,” I said, using my teacher’s tone, “step forward.” If time is lacking, for my lesson, I’d best start with the main culprit. The one who has constantly been nasty. Seeing what I do to him...That might just be enough for the others to learn by, if I don’t have the time to get to them. Piers didn’t move from his seat; his usual place in the back of the classroom. Was he really going to make me repeat myself? “I’m sorry,” I continued, “maybe you didn’t hear me all the way back there.” I turned to Mrs Price, “Do you often struggle with students at the back not hearing you properly?” She didn’t answer either. Can’t help but think that’s a little rude. It was a civil enough question, I feel. I’ll come back to her later. I turned my attention back to Piers. Just looking at his face makes me feel sick. Memories of what he’s put me through. I’m sure David must feel the same too. “Piers, don’t make me ask again.”

“Fuck you,” he spat from the area he foolishly perceived as being ‘safe’ at the back of the room. Little boy obviously doesn’t appreciate how far bullets can fly. The rest of the class, especially those who sat in close proximity, weren’t as foolish as a clear gap appeared between me and Piers. I took the gun up from where it rested, close to me, on the table and pointed it directly at Piers. “You won’t shoot me,” he said. Damn, he’s clever. Shooting him will be too easy.

“You’re right,” I lowered the gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy,” Piers hissed. His voice so full of venom towards me. How did someone so young get so much hatred inside of them? I blame the parents. I stood up and walked down the aisle of wooden desks and chairs to where Piers sat.

“I forgot,” I said, “you’re the big man aren’t you? You’re the one people should be afraid of. You’re the one who calls the shots and controls the classrooms and corridors...Those who don’t like you, or follow you, you set about destroying...You and your little gang. You think you’re something special...You really do, don’t you?” He leaned back on his chair so that he was resting on the back two legs of the chair only; the front legs completely clear of the floor. A defiant expression on his face. I smiled at him. I have to say, had the situation been reversed...Had he been the one with the gun pointed at me. I’d have been trembling. I’d have done anything he asked to save myself from getting shot. Is he brave or mentally retarded? “Well, I guess we can come back to you...You know...When you’re ready to come forward,” I said.

“Long wait,” he muttered. A cocky glance to his surrounding friends. Little show-off.

“Well - long enough for you to start feeling better,” I said. His defiant expression turned to one of confusion. I flashed him a smile and then hit him in the face with the butt of the handgun. His nose cracked and split open as blood immediately gushed over the table he sat at. One of his friends, a dark haired jock to the left of me, made a move as though to take me on; a move which stopped when he came face to face with the barrel of the gun. “Be smart,” I whispered. I backed away from them...Back towards the front of the class...Back to where I could see everyone.

“Please stop!” Mrs Price begged.

I shook my head. “These people...They made my life miserable...They didn’t stop. I asked them. David asked them. They never stopped. Even when we asked you for help...You turned us away. Remember that?”

“Had I known...”

“We tried telling you. You didn’t listen!”

“I would have stopped it.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?”

Thinking about hindsight I wonder whether I made things worse, for David and I, when I initially spoke up. Would things have turned out differently had I stayed quiet like Craig? David never said the general level of abuse had gotten worse because of me but he was the sort of person to keep that sort of thing to himself. Maybe it wasn’t as frequent before I came? Could ask him. Doubt he’ll answer.

“This isn’t the way to put things right,” Mrs Price continued. You’d think she’d shut up but obviously it’s against her nature. “They can get suspended...Expelled even...”

“You really think they care whether they’re in school or not?

* * * * *

The third, fourth and fifth days were easier. They were even quite pleasant. Mainly because the back row of our class was empty as Piers and his friends didn’t show up. I’m not sure where they went and I don’t really care. Their absence, probably due to the beating they gave David and I. No doubt they were scared to come in, expecting a one to one with the Headmaster; not that David and I told anyone what had happened. Sure, we were asked but...We figured...It’s done. It’s over. Move on. Hopefully Piers, and all, will move on too.

By the end of the third day, I was comfortable enough to make my own way around the school without needing David showing me everything but I still hung around with him. Definitely one of the good ones. Who knows, when I leave this school - as, no doubt, I will as soon as dad says we’re moving away - maybe, just maybe, this is a friendship that will stick. Be nice. Normally, when I move on, friendships are quick to disappear. That’s always disappointing.

* * * * *

“I’m sure they’ll care,” said Mrs Price as she still tried to convince me that grassing the bullies up was still the right thing to do.

I shook my head again. “Do you know what they say about you?”

“I don’t care...”

“You should. Half of them want to fuck you...Disrespectful to both you and your husband...The other half...They think you have a cock...”

“Playground stuff...”

“Not denying it...”

“What?”

“Show us.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous.”

“I said show us...Prove they’re lying,” I pointed the gun at her.

“What have I ever done to you?”

My mind drifted back to the numerous occasions she made me, or one of my classmates, feel stupid in front of everyone else. We’d stand there, after she told us to stand, and not be able to do a damned thing to stop her from tearing us apart over the slightest thing. Talking in class, no homework, poor homework, not paying attention, not getting the required pass mark on one of her many surprise tests...Anything could set her off. Sometimes it was justified but most of the time the dressing down we received was over the top and probably against the school’s policies. I wonder if the school actually has any policies, thinking about it.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re waiting.”

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want to make you feel as little as you make us feel...”

“I make you feel little?”

“You know you do and, more to the point, you know when you’re doing it. You always have the same wry smile upon your face.”

“If I’ve ever made you feel stupid, I’m sorry...” She looks as though she’s about to cry but I don’t care. She deserves this. I aimed the gun directly at her eye so she could see straight down the barrel. “Please don’t make me do this...” I pulled the hammer back once more, having carefully released it earlier. She started to cry. I, on the other hand, started to get excited. The feeling of power I’m wielding, I could get used to this. “Okay...” she said. She stood up, with her legs shaking, and unzipped the back of her tight black skirt. She paused, perhaps hoping I was going to tell her I was joking and she didn’t have to remove it. I’ll be doing no such thing. I could feel myself harden. Is it wrong to ask Rebecca to come back over? Maybe I should test out Mrs Price? Well, that is if she doesn’t have a cock. Don’t think I fancy a blow job from a woman with a prick.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked; a wry smile on my face. Her face reddens as she drops her skirt. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed to note she isn’t wearing stockings but rather tights instead. On the plus side, they’re over the top of a white cotton thong. Not quite the PVC or latex we were expecting to see. Perhaps she saves that for the weekends and days where she works the detention hall? A further plus to the situation reveals no penis. Just a nice mound where her pubic bone is. I’d love to fuck her. I bet she fucks like a good ‘un.

“Happy?” she asked, fighting back her tears.

“What do you think class?” a quick scan of my fellow classmates, of which I thought the lads would be grateful for this, revealed no one was looking at Mrs Price. They were all looking directly at me. “Look at her!” I ordered and they did. I looked back at Mrs Price, “Turn around...Let them see you...” Following instructions like a good little student, she turned on the spot. She looked at them...A look in her eyes suggesting she was hoping one of them would come and help her, perhaps give her a jacket or something to wrap herself in. “Bend over I ordered.”

“Surely this is enough,” she said.

I shook my head. “Not yet. Bend over.” She wept as she bent over, facing me. “Now turn around,” I said. She did as she was told until her sweet arse was facing me directly. I can see the outline of her pussy lips through the material of both the tights and the thong. It makes me wonder what it would taste like. Perhaps a step too far? I’ll have a bet I’m not the only one thinking along those lines, though. Even Piers, through his bloodied face, must be fancying a taste too. I should have made him turn around. I didn’t mean to give him such a delightful treat. I licked my lips at the thought of what her juices would taste like and shifted in my chair. I’ve heard people say it tastes of fish but I don’t believe it. I hope it doesn’t. I’m not a fan of fish. I’m hoping it tastes like chicken like one of my other friends described. Maybe I’ll be in this school long enough to make a relationship with a girl. That’d be nice. But then...Maybe I could just pull Mrs Price towards me now...Pull her towards me, rip her tights...Pull her knickers to one side and give her a lick. My mouth is watering. I’m tempted but I won’t. Not because I don’t really want to and not because she isn’t attractive. It’s just...She is older than me. Maybe too old? Maybe she is past her sell by date and her creamy juices are off? Perhaps that is when they taste of fish. All this picturing what it tastes like...Rebecca...I’m ready for round two...

5.

“She is fit, though,” I said to David. He didn’t answer. He just smiled as he tucked into his lunchtime sandwich. “I mean, how are we supposed to concentrate when faced with that every day? I definitely would...”

“I wouldn’t,” said David. He swallowed his mouthful and took a sip of his carton of orange.

“What?”

“I said I wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t want to sleep with Mrs Price?” I asked with a surprised tone of voice. David shook his head. “You’re kidding me, right? I think you’re the only person who doesn’t want to sleep with her...I mean, as long as the rumours aren’t true and she doesn’t have a manhood growing down there.”

“Not my cup of tea,” said David. I looked at him again. It was hard to tell whether he was having a laugh or not.

“Not your cup of tea?”

“No...Well...Not unless the rumours are true...” he continued.

“Wait...What? You want to sleep with her if she does have a cock?”

He smiled.

“What? Are you gay?”

David looked me straight in the eye as he swallowed his next mouthful of cucumber sandwich, “Yes...”

“Oh...”

“Is that a problem?”

I shook my head, “No, not at all...Just...You know...When Piers and his friends were calling you gay...I just thought...Well, you know...I thought they were name calling. I didn’t realise they were stating actual fact. Not really any of my business...” There was an awkward pause, “I’m not, by the way...”

David laughed, “It’s okay, I’m not about to pounce on you. I kind of guessed you weren’t going by conversations we’ve been having! But...I mean...How do you know if you’ve never tried it?” I looked at him with a worried look on my face. He gave me a wink and suddenly responded by bursting out with laughter, “I’m messing...Jesus, should have seen your face.”

“Yeah, good one...Okay...You got me...” I started to laugh; a delayed reaction.

I didn’t care whether David was straight or gay. His sexual preferences were of no concern to me. Just because he was homosexual, it didn’t mean I couldn’t have him as a good friend and, sitting here with him in my first week, I felt lucky to consider him a buddy.

“The story about you and Mr Fitzpatrick?” I asked when he had stopped laughing long enough for me to get a word in edgeways.

“That is a lie,” he said.

“Fair enough...”

“I just wish I had!” he started to laugh again. His infectious laughter set me off too. “I mean, his arse...To die for...Seriously...”

“Dude, please stop...” I said, still laughing.

“Oh, I see, it’s okay for you to discuss Mrs Price’s arse but not okay for me to discuss his tight, round butt...Imagine those muscles squeezing around your cock as you try not to squirt deep inside him...”

“Dude! I’m not listening anymore...”

“And he’d be groaning, and moaning...Begging even, to have it deeper in him...Deeper and harder...”

I put my fingers in my ears, “I’m not listening...I can’t hear your disgusting thoughts...La La Laaaaaaaa.....”

David cracked up and, as a result, thankfully stopped.

“You’re sick,” I told him.

“What are you two laughing about?” asked a pretty girl from my class. I think her name was Rebecca; the girl who sat in front of David. As soon as she got our attention by speaking, David stopped laughing and fell silent.

“You don’t want to know,” I said. I didn’t know her well enough to be sure she’d appreciate the comments between David and I. I had seen her hanging around with Piers, and his narrow-minded friends so...

“Listen, I just wanted to say I think you two were really cool...” she went on.

“How so?” I asked.

“I’m not stupid. None of us are. We know who caused those bruises...You not grassing them up to the Head...That was cool...” She smiled at me, a flash in her beautiful eyes.

“Well...Thanks...” I said. I felt myself blush; an annoying habit whenever a pretty girl spoke to me. I wonder whether, in years to come, I’ll be able to control that...Better yet, I wonder whether it will stop completely. That’d be nice.

“Some of us are having a party this Saturday...Be nice if you could both come. Show there are no hard feelings between anyone. You know, a fresh start...” she continued.

I looked at David, “Sounds good, would do you think?” He didn’t answer, he just stared at Rebecca as though he were expecting a punchline to some amazing joke she was telling. “David?”

“I can’t,” he said. “Busy. Some gay thing.”

“That’s too bad,” said Rebecca, “it would have been nice...And...I could have got to know you a little better too.” Her eyes were fixed on me. It was everything I could do to keep focused on her and not her cleavage. “Look, if you change your mind...” she fished in her pocket and pulled out a small card with a phone number on it...”Just give me a call and I’ll pass on my address...Be nice if one of you could make it at least.”

I took the card off her and, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished back into the crowds of pupils all milling about with their lunches.

I turned to David, “I knew they were hiding from us. Scared of whether we had gone to the teachers...It’s good, isn’t it? A fresh start she said. Might leave me alone from here on in...Us alone. Both of us. Come on, it will be a laugh...”

“Have you heard the term ‘fuck-buddy’?” asked David.

“Of course I have...”

“Well she is fuck buddies with most of the school but...I think her and Piers are more than that. She’s a piece of shit.”

“She seems nice enough to me,” I said. I smelt the card in my hands, “Even her card smells like perfume...Come on, it will be a laugh,” I said.

“You can go if you want but I don’t want to. Wherever they are, I tend to avoid.”

“You mind if I go?” I didn’t want to upset David but at the same time I didn’t want to miss the chance to put things right with everyone. It would be nice to come to school not wondering whether I’m going to get another hiding or not.

“You do what you want,” said David. I could tell by his tone that he didn’t think it was a good idea and, more to the point, he didn’t really want me going but...Surely he wouldn’t fall out with me just because I chose to try and put things right...The chance to have things easier for both of us. How great would that be?

* * * * *

I couldn’t help but think how great this was, as Mrs Price pulled her skirt back up and took her seat amongst my fellow classmates. Her face is still red and the tears, in her eyes, are nothing more than an added bonus. I have a feeling, if she survives this, she won’t be so keen to belittle any of her students again. Hell, she might even quit. Never teach again. No loss to the education system, that’s for sure.

Rebecca was still crying in her seat too. Two scarred, hopefully for life, and one battered. I’m just disappointed the bruises will heal.

“Well, Piers, you ready yet?” I hope he tells me to ‘fuck off’ or something similar from his lacking intelligence; give me another reason to smash him in the face. Normally I’m against violence. I don’t think it solves anything. That’s partly why I never fought back on the occasions they jumped me. I mean...Ignoring how big he is in comparison to my skinny frame anyway. Even if I had wanted to fight back, I wouldn’t have gotten very far. I’d have covered even less metaphorical distance on the times his friends were helping to give me a hiding. I never understood why he had them help - it’s not as though he needed a hand.

Piers tipped his head back so it was facing me. His nose was still bleeding. How satisfying. I’m loving this. It’s nearly making me as hard as the sight of Mrs Price’s cunt and the feeling of Rebecca’s tongue. With his hand away from his face, he raised his middle finger.

Oh, Happy Days...A sadistic smile spread across my mouth. Like I said, normally I’m against violence but, I won’t lie, it’s slowly starting to grow on me.

6.

“Are you going to want us to pick you up?” asked my mum. The problem with my mum is that she wasn’t trying to be helpful. She was trying to be nosy. She just wanted to get a glimpse of my new friends. No doubt she wanted to thank them for taking me under their wings as I found my way around a new school. She was always the same. It was embarrassing. The friends I did make often asked whether my mum would be home before agreeing to come around for a night of gaming on the console. They said she freaked them out a little. I couldn’t blame them. Her only son, she had a habit of treating me as though I was still a baby. Definitely embarrassing. When she first saw the bruises Piers and his friends inflicted...She wanted to frog march me back to school and demand the Headmaster expelled everyone immediately. I tried telling her it wasn’t necessary. I tried telling her it would just make things worse for me but...You know how parents can be especially when they have a bee in their bonnet about something.

“I’m fine,” I muttered as I pulled a clean, black shirt from my wardrobe.

“Don’t you have anything brighter you can wear?” she asked. “You’re always dressing in black...Colour suits you so well...”

“I want black. Black is cool,” I said. I also perceived it was a power colour too. Mum once said she thought I was a Goth. I couldn’t help but laugh. I’m hardly a Goth. It’s not like I wear make-up and dress head to foot in black and go around listening to heavy-metal whilst cutting myself...Mind you, I don’t really know any Goths...Maybe they don’t do that? Maybe it’s just bad movies portraying them in a negative light.

“Well it’s nice to see you settling so quickly,” she continued. “Especially after what happened at the start of the week...Do you at least want a lift?”

“It’s fine, mum, really. I can make my own way.”

“Well, if you’re sure...”

I feel sorry for mum really. I know why she is so keen to be part of my life. It’s because she doesn’t really have her own life. She gets moved around just as much as me, because of dad. At least I have the chance to meet new friends and different people by going to school. She doesn’t have to work. In fact, dad said he didn’t want her to. He wanted her to be at home...Keep the house up together and meals on the table whilst he went out and provided. Old fashioned views, I guess. It did mean that mum didn’t get to socialize with people her own age, especially as she lacked the confidence to join local groups that would have opened the door to meeting new, like-minded people. She just stayed in the house and went a little more stir-crazy each day.

“Thank you, mum. Really. But I’m sure.”

She gave me a smile and said, “Well, I’ll leave you to get ready then...” and, with that, she left the room.

I do love her though.

* * * * *

My heart was beating fast and hard as I pressed the doorbell button to Rebecca’s house. I know this is all for the best; a fresh start. A chance to turn the hatred Piers and the others feel for me into something more positive. Doesn’t make me any less nervous though. Not a good thing, being nervous. I have a bad habit of being ultra-sarcastic, without meaning to be, or extremely quiet. Neither are traits which make me any more endearing. I wish David had come with me. At least there’d have been someone here who definitely liked me.

Footsteps from beyond the door. Someone is coming. The door opened and Rebecca was stood there. A vision of beauty. She was dressed in a short black dress which looks as though it’s barely covering her backside. I won’t lie; she looks hot. Really hot. Her face was done up with heavy make-up. Normally I prefer ‘subtle’ but...It suits her.

“You came!” she exclaimed. She actually sounded as though she was pleased. “I was hoping you would!” She reached across to my hand and led me into the house.

I already feel as though I’m out of my depth. She took me through to the lounge where Piers and his friends were sitting. There were six of them altogether. The room fell silent when they saw me. I feel sick but I can’t show it. Piers was the first to stand up and walk over.

“You didn’t grass,” he said, “I respect that...And look, we’ve both said and done some stupid things but...What do you say we start afresh?” he sounded sincere.

“I’d like that,” I said.

“You’re alright,” he said. He turned away from me and joined his friends again. Seconds later they were back to whatever it was they were talking about before I walked in.

“See,” said Rebecca, “a fresh start.”

I smiled at her. Was that it? Was that all that was needed?

“Can I get you a drink?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. Still holding my hand she pulled me through to the large kitchen which was crammed full of various drinks - mainly of a ‘alcopop’ variety. “We pretty much have everything here,” she said.

“That’s a lot of alcohol,” I said.

“Everyone chipped in.” Whoops. Was I supposed to offer money too? A little bit of cash towards the alcohol pool? I don’t have anything on me now other than the cash I need to get the taxi home. Could give her that. Could give mum a call to come and collect me...No. Forget that. I don’t need her seeing Rebecca. She’ll jump to conclusions, no doubt, that we’re a couple. Probably end up having the safe-sex speech and everything. Worse still, she’ll invite Rebecca over for Sunday dinner...Although, that wouldn’t be a bad thing...Ever since I first saw her I thought she looked nice. “Try that,” she passed me a red drink. Not got a clue what it is and what it’ll taste like but I don’t want to appear uncool by asking or refusing it.

“Thanks,” I said.

“David couldn’t make it, huh?” she asked.

“No, he said he was busy...”

“A shame.” Laughter boomed from the living room. “Did you want to go upstairs so we could talk? It’s quieter...”

“Ummm, sure,” I said. It was the first time I had had a girl inviting me upstairs. I desperately tried to sound relaxed and cool about it but I’m pretty sure I failed. She smiled and led me through the house, back towards the stairs. She went up the stairs first, leading the way. I always thought I was a gentleman but, as I stared at her tight little arse the whole way up...Well...I guess I’m not that much of a gentleman!

“It’s just through there,” she pointed to a door across the landing from the stairs, “I’ll be right there - make yourself comfortable.” She turned into what looked to be the bathroom and I crossed the landing to what turned out to be her room.

Weird. Everything is pink. I’m not sure what I expected but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a completely pink room. Pink walls, pink duvet...Even the carpet is a lighter shade of pink. Definitely a young girl’s room. You wouldn’t have guessed this was her room. I guess I half expected pictures of semi-naked  pop stars hanging from the walls and make-up scattered around the place...Hell, I even thought I’d see different outfits dropped on the floor from where she was trying things on for her party. But, in this room, everything seems to have its own place. Speaking of which, dressed in black, I must really look out of place here!

“Sorry about that,” she appeared in the doorway behind me. I turned to look at her. Was it just me or did her breasts suddenly appear to be...Well....larger? No complaints here. I tried to avert my eyes so as not to offend or come across as a creep. She simply smiled and walked past me, brushing my crotch with her hand. Was that a mistake? That smell...She smells even more so of the sweet perfume I caught a scent of when she first opened the door to me. I’m not sure what it is but I like it. She sat on the bed and patted the mattress next to her. An invitation for me to join her? Embarrassingly, I felt myself harden. I can only hope she didn’t notice.

I crossed the room and sat next to her. I wonder if I looked as nervous as I felt. Come on, you’re supposed to be a man. Act like one. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting your room to look like this,” I said.

“No? What were you expecting?” She turned her body to face me and dropped her hand on my leg. I am now fully erect and feeling incredibly awkward. “You look good tonight.”

“Thanks,” I stuttered. Stupid. I should have told her she looked good too and not just tonight. She always looked good.

She laughed, “You feel tense...Relax...”

Before I could answer she leant forward and kissed me on the mouth. Seconds later and she was kissing me again with her tongue down my throat.  Aggressive...Nice...

She pulled away slightly, “You’re a good kisser.”

I tried to answer but my mouth didn’t want to work. Besides...I wasn’t sure whether she was just saying that. Being kind. I wonder if she could tell it was my first kiss. She leant in again with her left hand on my cheek. As she continued to kiss me, her hand stroked down my cheek with her nails scratching me ever so gently. Lower it went...Down my neck...Down my chest...Until it rested on my crotch. She made a funny ‘mmm’ noise from her mouth and, using both hands, fussed around with my belt until it was undone - allowing her access to do the same to my jeans. Is this really happening? I desperately wanted to touch her, like she was touching me...I wanted to feel the softness, and warmth, of her skin. I wanted to feel her breasts...I wanted to but didn’t. I was just frozen to the spot; allowing her to do as she pleased.

“Ooh, big boy,” she purred as she freed my erection from the confines of my boxer shorts. I feel like I should stop her. Perhaps get to know her a little first? I thought the correct order was a few dates, holding hands, couple more dates, a first kiss, more holding hands and then, eventually, some kind of sexual act. I didn’t think it would be like this. “I have some condoms in the drawer over there...” she whispered in my ear. Fuck it. Holding hands is lame anyway.

“Sure,” I stammered, my hands still frozen to the mattress.

She jumped off the bed and walked across the room, leaving me on the bed momentarily.

“Now!” she suddenly yelled. Within an instant, the bedroom door flew open and Piers burst in with a mobile phone in his hand and a huge, evil smile on his face.

“Gross! What are you doing! Having a wank in Rebecca’s little sister’s room? You know how fucked up that is? She’s only eight. You fucking pervert!”

I didn’t know what was going on nor did I hang around for an answer. I got up as quickly as I could, turning my back to the mobile phone, and adjusted myself to hide my erection. The sound of Rebecca laughing, from the corner of the room, echoing through my worried mind...

So much for a fresh start.

7.

If Piers had meant what he had said, that evening, about us having a fresh start...If Rebecca hadn’t tricked me into making me look stupid...Right now, Mrs Price would, no doubt, be shouting at one of us for handing in a below par homework assignment. As it is, she’s just sat there, looking mortified at what she’s just done. Rebecca is still sniffling away in the corner of the room and Piers is still bleeding as he deserves to.

“Have another little think,” I said to Piers as I went back to the front of the classroom, “and we’ll have another chat in a bit,” I said. Back at the front of the class, I turned to Ben Griffin and Daniel Gordon. Two of Piers’ closest friends. Unlike the physical violence Piers liked to dish out, these two were too weak to do much damage, like that. Instead they preferred the tried and tested method of name-calling. Whoever said ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’ clearly hasn’t been on the receiving end of people who spend the vast majority of their time using hateful words. I’ve lost count of the amount of times, in my short time in this school, where I’ve been on the receiving end of a bout of name-calling from these two narrow minded little pricks. It’s stupid of me, and others, to get hurt by it but...You hear something enough times and you start to believe it. It wears you down. “Ben and Daniel, can you come to the front of the class please?” I’m not sure why I said ‘please’. I don’t need to say things like that anymore. I don’t need to be polite. I’m the one in charge. It wasn’t a friendly request. It was an order.

They looked at each other, unsure whether they should or not. A quick glance at Piers, who was barely conscious from the last pistol whipping he received, and the two of them stood up; neither of them wanting to be on the receiving end of that kind of brutality. I wonder, had they known what was coming their way...I wonder whether they’d still have chosen to stand up. I smiled. Slowly they came forward. Both of them were tall individuals. Both with dark hair. Both with dark brown eyes. Same size, width-wise, too. You’d be forgiven for thinking they were brothers.

“Do you remember when David told you about Ben and Daniel?” I asked Mrs Price. She didn’t answer. How rude. “Do you remember he reported that they kept calling him names? I remember. He told you how it upset him and how he didn’t like it. He asked for your help and you told him not to be so silly. It was, after all, just name-calling. Which, by the way, is still bullying. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“We were just playing around,” said Ben.

“Oh, well, that’s okay then...Please, take a seat...” I said. My sarcasm slipping out again. Ben, foolishly, went to move back to his seat at the back of the class, “Don’t you fucking move,” I hissed. He froze on the spot. Good lad. Not as stupid as he appears. “Tell me, what did you call David when you were playing around?” I asked. Neither of them answered. Maybe they’ve forgotten. “Faggot. Queer. Beaver-leaver. Homo. Gay. Gayboy. Rimmer...Just a few of the names...”

“We were just playing...”

“You knew it upset him. You knew he didn’t see it as playing.”

“We’re sorry,” said Daniel.

“Too late.” I tried not to show glee as they both looked as though they were about to cry. “Well...I suppose...We could kiss and make up...” They didn’t say anything. They just looked at one another hoping one of them would understand what I was talking about. They turned back to me with blank expressions on their faces. There was a pause. “Come on then, kiss and make up...”

After the video that Piers took on his mobile phone, was emailed to - as it turned out - everyone who subscribed to the school’s digital magazine, which was run by the students, it was Daniel and Ben who started the rumour that I was a peodophile. It was them who stated the whole video couldn’t be shown because it showed Rebecca’s younger sister dancing for me in her underwear. They admitted that was a lie when the police were involved but not so everyone could hear - only the officers, my mum and Rebecca’s parents. Rebecca denied being in the room at the time; her denial helped by the fact that the sound was muted with dodgy ‘porn’ music edited over it. Ben and Daniel never did apologise for the trouble it landed me in. It didn’t help that David was sulking with me too. He had warned me not to go and felt that I should have trusted what he said.

“I don’t understand,” said Daniel.

“Let me spell it out to you,” I said. “I want you to kiss Ben.”

Daniel looked down to the gun, in my hand, and then over to Piers at the back of the room. He turned to Ben and leant forward. After he closed his eyes he gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Well,” I said, “that was very sweet but...I think you can do better than that. Kiss him like you mean it. I want to see tongues. You know...Because I’m such a faggot.”

“We didn’t mean it!” said Ben; a look of panic on his face and his voice shaking. “Please...We didn’t mean it. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks. Means a lot to me. Now...Kiss. And look as though you’re enjoying it.”

* * * * *

The fallout from the leaked video footage was more or less over by the third week. At least, it was at school. At home mum still wouldn’t let me go out and she still wasn’t entirely happy with what had happened. I kept telling her it wasn’t my fault but she just kept saying how embarrassing it was for the family. For the family? What about me? I didn’t ask to have the video shown everywhere. I didn’t want people seeing it. I’m the one who has to go out and see the people who have seen the video. It’s not like mum bumps into the people who watched it. It’s not as though mum bumps into anyone.

“Your father is going to be so disappointed when he gets home,” mum kept reminding me.

“Who cares what he thinks? Who cares what anyone thinks? It’s not like we’ll be here for very long! We never are!”

“And then what did she say?” asked David. I was sat with him in the cafeteria.  It was the first time we had spoken properly since the video leaked.

“She said I was ungrateful. Apparently dad does all this for me...Moving around...The working...Apparently it’s all for me but that’s rubbish.”

“How so?”

“If they wanted the best for me, they’d have left me in the same school. They wouldn’t move me around. They’d want me to meet new people, make new friends and, more importantly, keep them!”

“Dad works because it’s what he wants. He doesn’t give a shit about me or mum. Pretends he does but...He doesn’t.”

David didn’t say anything. I guess he realised I just needed to vent.

“Well, I’m sorry for everything you went through,” he said eventually.

“Thank you.”

“But...”

“Don’t say it.”

“I told you so...”

I gave him a look which said ‘thanks for that’. He simply smiled.

“Everything sorted now though?” he asked. “I mean, with regards to the police and Head?”

I nodded, “I nearly got expelled for it.”

“I saw the film...” he smiled, “...impressive.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

David laughed.

“Look out...a new film in the making,” said Daniel.

I span around and saw Daniel and Ben on the table behind us. They were laughing, like they usually were when they were mocking someone or something. A real life version of Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. David rolled his eyes.

“Who do you think will be the giver and who will be the taker?” asked Ben.

I didn’t say anything. There was so much I could say but...There was no point. I had already learnt that smart arse comments don’t make them go away. Today was all about trying something new; ignoring them. I looked at David and hoped he’d stay quiet too.

“Look...Look at the way they’re looking at each other...They’re going to kiss...”

* * * * *

“Look...” I said to my fellow classmates, “...Look, they’re going to kiss...”

“Please,” said Ben. “We’ve said we’re sorry.”

“And I appreciate it. Now kiss.” I raised the gun up to his face. “I won’t be asking again...”

Ben and Daniel looked at each other. A slight pause as they both processed what they were going to have to do.

“Wait!” I suddenly yelled. They pulled away from each other. “Wait...” There was relief on their faces. I took up a mobile phone, from the table on the teacher’s table, and loaded up the camera. “Okay, now you can kiss.” They knew I wasn’t joking. “And...Action...”

There was a long pause as they just looked at each other. They turned to the camera. Off shot I waved the gun in the air. They looked back to one another. They knew what they had to do. The funny thing is, though, they don’t know the half of what they have to do. Today, they are my performing monkeys and I’m going to make the most of it.

“Kiss him, faggot,” I hissed.

Mrs Jones shifted uneasily in her chair. Probably remembering her little show and tell for the class. I shot her a glance to keep her quiet. By the time I looked back to Ben and Daniel they were standing nose to nose. Be interesting to see who makes the first move. My money is on Ben. ‘Bender Ben’ has a certain ring to it. Daniel leaned forward and kissed Ben on the mouth. I’m glad I didn’t put any real money on it. They stopped and turned to me. I hadn’t moved. I was still pointing the camera at them. That wasn’t a kiss. Not a proper one. Not like lovers. I peered out from behind the phone’s screen and gave them a stern look...A stern look they both understood. They turned back to each other. This time it was Ben to make the move. He stepped forward and tilted his head to the side with his mouth slightly opened. Daniel moved closer too, his mouth also open slightly. Soon their lips were interlocked in a passionate embrace. I could be wrong but...They look as though they’re enjoying it. Certainly making for interesting footage. Wonder what the rest of the school will think of it when I email it to the same people Piers emailed when he made his little video?

8.

“Let’s go,” I said to David. I did my best to ignore the comments from Ben and Daniel; did my best to rise above it but they were starting to annoy me and I knew David would have been feeling the same.

“Aw, where are you going?” Daniel asked.

“Toilets, I expect,” said Ben. “Probably want to have a little sausage for their pudding.” They laughed. Other people, who were sat around them listening, also laughed. Very funny.

* * * * *

Ben and Daniel pulled away from their kiss. A little string of saliva was the last to snap away from their embrace.

“So how was that?” I asked. “I have to say, and I’m sure I’m not alone in saying this, it looked as though you both enjoyed it. Did you?” They didn’t answer. First time ever they’ve both been silenced. Should have done this ages ago. “Remove your trousers.” They both looked startled. No doubt they had hoped I was going to let them sit back down. They’re wrong. I’m not done with them. I’m a way off being done. Daniel undid his trousers and dropped them to the floor. “Well, looks as though your efforts weren’t up to his standard,” I said to Ben. Ben didn’t budge. “Your turn.” Again, he didn’t move. “Help him, Dan...You’re his friend, aren’t you? You’d hate for him to be hurt, right?”

Daniel turned to Ben, “Please...Just do as he says...Don’t make me...”

Ben reluctantly lowered his trousers and I couldn’t help but laugh when I noticed he was hard. “I guess Dan’s the better kisser, huh?” Ben went bright red, as did Daniel. We’re still not done yet, though. “I bet you could murder a little sausage right about now, huh? Some nice pudding...”

I stepped forward and pulled Ben’s shorts down. His erection popped up, standing to attention for the whole class to see and be disgusted by. I don’t want to look too closely but I bet it’s covered in pre-cum.

“You talk about it all the time,” I said to Daniel, “because I reckon it’s what you want...YOU want to have a little sausage for pudding...”

“What? No. No...”

“I think you protest too much. Here’s your chance...Put him in your mouth.”

“Please, no...I’m not gay.”

“Me neither but you two insisted on saying I was just because I was friends with someone who happened to choose that particular path in life. And that wasn’t the worst that you said, let us not forget that...Now, put him in your fucking mouth and keep him there...” Daniel didn’t move. I stormed over to him and swung the gun down to his knee-cap, catching him on the side. He let out a squeal and dropped to his knees. “I said, put him in your fucking mouth...”

“Just do it,” said Ben.

“See, he’s begging for it. He wants you to...This little faggot here...Put him in your mouth.”

Someone fidgeted in their seat behind me so I swung around with the gun and aimed it at them. They froze. I turned back to Daniel and pressed the gun against his temple.

“The lesson is almost over. You can nearly walk away from this...If you don’t do this...If you refuse...You won’t walk away.”

Slowly he edged closer and closer to Ben’s penis. He opened his mouth and let the shaft slide to the back of his throat. Ben moaned. Not sure if that was a  groan of pleasure or one born from being uncomfortable.

“Doesn’t that taste good?” I asked. “Now move back and forwards...You’ve seen how the ladies do it in the movies you have undoubtedly watched...Do it. Do it.”

Daniel started to move back and forwards, just as I had told him to, and Ben’s moans became more frequent. Every time Ben’s penis hit the back of Daniel’s mouth, Daniel couldn’t help but gag.

“You like that?” I asked Ben. His eyes were shut. I’m not sure if he was picturing Daniel sucking him off or picturing, perhaps, Rebecca or Mrs Price. Either way, this wasn’t for him to be enjoying. With no warning, I turned to Daniel and kicked up, as hard as I could, between his legs. The sudden rush of pain caused his mouth to clamp shut...I was surprised at how far the blood spurted, from Ben, when Daniel moved away. Both of them dropped to the floor in agony.

“Who’s next?” I asked the class.

John, one of the quieter members of the group, jumped up and made a dash for the door. I was unsure of his intentions. Maybe he wanted to get help for Ben. Maybe he wanted to escape his own lesson. Either way...Silly move considering I wasn’t exactly so far away I wouldn’t get to the door first. I thrust the gun in his face.

“Sit the fuck down.”

I’m still amazed at how easy it is to control a small group with one handgun. Surely they must realise I don’t have enough bullets for all of them? I guess none of them are willing to sacrifice themselves in order to save their friends.  The cowards. All they need to do is rush me. I probably wouldn’t even be able to empty the entire clip. It is, indeed, a selfish world we live in.

* * * * *

“I hate this place!” David exclaimed when we were away from Ben and Daniel’s earshot. “There are all these anti-bullying posters around making it look as though the school actually gives a damn but they don’t. They don’t give a flying fuck about their pupils getting bullied.” I didn’t say anything. I just let him have his little rant. “I’ve been to the teachers before but they don’t care. They don’t want to know. If they do say anything to the people involved...It’s half-hearted. It’s not meant and certainly isn’t enough to deter them. It makes me sick. Just shows you really are alone.” He started to cry. Should I put my arm around him? Not sure. Would he get the wrong idea? “All that talk about sticks and stones breaking bones but words never hurting...Broken bones heal. Bruises heal. Harsh words can have a long, lasting effect.” I couldn’t argue with him. He had a point. He looked to me, “You’re not doing a very good job of making me feel any better.”

“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “Not really sure what to say.”

“Anything!” he said.

After a slight pause, “There, there...Everything will be okay...” He couldn’t help but laugh at how useless I was. Comforting people never really was my strong point. I guess I don’t really have the family background to afford me that little life skill. Dad was always working and mum would always over compensate which I found annoying. “So what do you want to do?”

“I just wish I could make them all suffer.”

“Well, I’m sure that would be great but...I don’t think it’s very practical. Besides, I meant what do you want to do now?”

“I’m not going to class. Fancy going to the cinema or something?”

I nodded. Hopefully he’ll be paying.

* * * * *

Daniel was on the floor, at the front of the class, crying with blood smeared around his mouth. I’m not sure if he is crying because he’s just bitten his friend’s penis off or crying because of the pain from being kicked. Maybe a little bit of both? Ben, on the other hand, is deathly quiet in his unconscious state. He looks pale. I wonder whether he’ll eventually end up bleeding to death from his injury? Maybe. If he does, he brought it upon himself.

“Go back to your seat,” I said to Daniel.

Slowly he stood up and walked down the middle aisle back to his seat - all of his classmates staring at him. I liked how everyone was looking at him. All staring...All judging for what he has just done. He won’t be able to forget their looks. They’ll be with him forever...Just as the taste of human flesh will haunt him.

I looked around the class. Who’s next? My eyes settled on a girl at the front of the class. She immediately started to cry. She knows it is her turn.

“Please, I haven’t done anything to you...” It’s true. She hasn’t done anything to me. It’s only from hearing her call out, during the many registrations we have sat through, that I am aware of her name; Chloe. “Please...”

“I know you haven’t,” I said. “But this isn’t all about me.” I turned to look at the seven stood behind me; David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate, Helen...They all look to be enjoying my little floor show. I turned back to Chloe...Sitting there, looking pretty with her short, dark hair and her big brown eyes, carefully applied make-up used to enhance her looks as opposed to hide them behind an unnecessary layer of slap. Looking into her eyes, she already looked as though she were going to start crying. Pathetic. You’d have thought people who were nasty to other people...You’d have thought it would have been harder to break them but this is proving fairly easy. “Come to the front of the class,” I instructed her. “Let’s have a chat.”

Reluctantly Chloe stood up. She gave a glance in the direction of her friends. No doubt she was hoping one of them would step forward and offer her some assistance. Not a chance. They didn’t want to get involved. They didn’t want the spotlight turned onto them. Chloe stood a few feet away from me. I had never really noticed before how skinny she was. I wonder if she was naturally that skinny or whether she was one of these girls who’d eat a meal just to sick it back up in the toilet when they thought no one was looking?

“Lindsey...” All I did was say a girl’s name and Chloe started to cry. She knew where this was going. “Do you want to tell the class what you did to Lindsey?” Chloe shook her head. “Oh, come on now...Don’t be shy...Would you rather we asked Lindsey?”

“Please stop it.”

They all say the same thing. It’s getting tiresome. I’m not going to stop, just as they didn’t either when they were asked. Fair is fair, after all.

“You look nervous. Don’t be. We’re all friends, aren’t we? Here...I got you something...” I reached into my rucksack, which I had left by the table at the front of the class, and pulled out a tupperware box. I pulled the lid off and showed Chloe the contents. “Chocolate cake...”

“I don’t want any.”

“Of course you do, don’t be ungrateful. I got one for you and one for your friend Lindsey...You know she likes cakes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You’ve done nothing to be sorry for...Have you? Have I missed something?” I hadn’t missed anything. I knew what Chloe had done. She would spend her time, with her friends from the year above, following Lindsey around taunting her because of her weight. Lindsey being one of the school’s larger pupils. I’m not sure if it was because she over-ate or some genetic thing which made her so. It wasn’t important. The consequences of their words always had the same ending; Lindsey would cry herself to sleep, sometimes cutting herself before she climbed into her bed.

“We need to get Ben some help,” said Mrs Price. She wasn’t watching Chloe and I. Her eyes were fixed on Ben. He looked pale, there was no denying that. “He’s dying...”

“I’m talking to my friend. Please don’t interrupt me again,” I said. I turned back to Chloe and handed her a cake. “Eat it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can eat it willingly or I can feed you. I don’t mind which.”

She looked back to her friends. None of them made a move to help her. Slowly she took the cake from me and looked at it.

“It looks good, doesn’t it?” I asked. “I made it myself.”

“Please, I’m not hungry.”

“Of course you are. Look at it! How can that not make you hungry?”

The cake did look good. Chocolate sponge covered in chocolate icing. I would have eaten it myself. Had I not put in the little extra ingredient. Chloe moved the cake closer to her mouth. Slowly her mouth opened. It must be watering in there. How could it not? The cake looks amazing. I should set up a little shop. Start selling them. I could make a fortune.

9.

I was sitting with David, in the cinema, waiting for the film to start. He paid; some chick flick he had wanted to see. I should have known when he invited me to a film that it wouldn’t have been a typical horror for boys to enjoy. Ah well, I couldn’t grumble; it was still better than being in class, I suppose. Just.

“So how would you teach them a lesson?” I asked him.

“Not really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“Okay, I’d make them kiss each other,” he said, a split second later.

“What?”

“Piers and his friends...In front of the whole class...I’d make them kiss each other. That way they couldn’t call me gay anymore.”

“They couldn’t?”

“Of course not...” The lights dimmed and the screen flickered into life. David whispered to me, “If everyone has seen them kiss...They’d hardly be in a position to carry on calling me gay!” I didn’t answer him. I suppose, all being said and done, he had a point.

“How’d you make them kiss?” I asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t know...Wave a gun in their face?”

I laughed, “You have thought about this, haven’t you?”

“Lots,” he answered immediately. “Want some of my popcorn?” He tipped his large tub of popcorn towards me.

I shook my head, “No thanks. Hate popcorn. It tastes like shit.”

* * * * *

A smile spread across my face as fresh dog shit dribbled down Chloe’s chin. I guess the little stint in the oven made it runny? Should have expected that, not that it’s a problem. It was probably worse for her, to have it trickle down her face. She’ll be tasting that for days. As soon as she realised what it was, she gagged and spat the cake onto the floor.

“No!” I shouted. “You must eat it all!” I grabbed the cake and shoved it into her mouth. My hand clamped across her face to stop her from spitting it out once more. She struggled, in my grasp, but I didn’t release her until I felt her swallow some of it. “That’s it...Good girl...” I couldn’t help but think of Rebecca swallowing my own poison too. A smile spread across my face. As soon as I let go of Chloe, she threw up on the floor. It’s starting to smell in here...What with the blood, puke, shit and stench of fear. Thank God the lesson is nearly over. It’ll be nice to get some fresh air. “You can sit down now,” I whispered to Chloe when she finished sicking up, what she had eaten, onto the floor. She stood up and made her way back to her seat, spitting as she went.

“You’re going to burn in Hell for this,” said Mrs Price. “You know that, don’t you?” She didn’t look scared of me anymore. She looked angry. A familiar expression we, as a class, were used to. Maybe she knew I wasn’t going to actually shoot anyone? “Your mum and dad will be known around the world for what you have done. You’ll be rotting in prison, and then Hell, and they’ll be having to live with the consequences of your actions.”

“Then I guess, with all of us residing there, Hell will be full.”

“Just let us go before you do something you’ll regret.”

“I’ll regret nothing of today.”

“You say that now but in years to come...You’ll realise...This wasn’t the way...”

I turned to David, behind me. The look on his face...The look of sorrow. Lindsey’s face...Having just seen her tormentor eat dog shit...I won’t regret anything about today.

“When you’re quite finished,” I said, “there’s still much to do.”

“You’re a psycho,” she continued.

“No, I’m not. I’m a product of my surroundings. You...All of you sitting here...You all made me.”

“That’s rubbish,” said Mrs Price. I knew I could count on her to ruin my buzz. “People are bullied every day. You don’t see them holding their class to ransom.”

“I’m not holding anyone to ransom! As soon as the bell goes, you’re all free to leave.”

“Let us go now!”

“Now you know you’re not allowed to wander the corridors during lesson time. You can get sent to the Head’s office. You can go as soon as the bell goes. Those aren’t my rules. They’re the schools...”

“They’d allow an exception...”

I glared at her, “Did you want to come to the front of the class again? Have you not learned your lesson?” She didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought.”

I turned back to the seven behind me. Lindsey seems satisfied how I dealt with Chloe. David seems to be quieter than usual. Funny, really, considering this was his plan initially. Five more students who need someone to fight their battles for them; Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate, Helen. I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to help them all. Not entirely sure there is time enough to deal with each of their complaints. Never enough time.

* * * * *

“Where have you been?” asked mum as soon as I stepped into the family home. I didn’t answer her straight away. I wasn’t expecting to be bombarded with her questions as soon as I walked in. Couldn’t exactly tell her I had been at the cinema with David. She’d be mad that I hadn’t gone to school. She might even be mad enough, after the video incident, to report it to dad too - when he comes home from work...If he comes home from work. “I asked you a question - where have you been? Dinner is ruined.” Dinner wouldn’t have been ruined, I doubt she would have even cooked it yet.

“I was in the library with David,” I lied. Stupid, really, as she knew it would be a lie. I can’t remember the last time I went to a library.

“The school phoned.”

“What?”

“They phoned. Apparently you didn’t show up for registration after lunch. They wanted to know if everything was okay.”

“They actually called?”

“Yes...”

“They do that?”

“So where were you?” Mum’s face reddened. I knew she was mad. One of the signs she was angry was when her face went a bright shade of red; similar to if she were embarrassed. The thing with mum, though, is that she’d only be angry because she wouldn’t have known where I was...Because she would have been worried...Not because I didn’t go to class. “Well?”

“I was at the cinema...”

“With David?”

“Yes, with David. We had some problems at lunchtime and couldn’t face going back for the afternoon. We didn’t think it would be a problem...”

“More like you didn’t think the school would have called?”

“And that...”

“Look, mum, I don’t like it there. The name-calling...The bullying...”

“They’ll settle down, it’s just because you’re new.”

“What? No. No it’s not. It’s because I am friends with a homosexual and I dared stick up for him. You saw what happened with the video. You saw that. The trouble I got into...It’s going to carry on. God only knows what they’ll do next. I don’t want to go back...”

“You have to go back! I’m sure they’ll soon get bored and move onto someone else.”

“It’s different to the way it was when you were at school, mum...You know, when the world was in black and white and you didn’t lock your front door at night...”

“Well you’re going back tomorrow. If you want I can go in with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t mean to. “Thanks but I’m pretty sure that won’t help!”

“Well just stand up to them then! Now promise me you won’t bunk off again.” I didn’t say anything. “Promise me.”

“Fine. I promise. Whatever.” I pushed past her to head up the stairs to my room. I knew it was pointless telling her about what was happening at school but figured there was nothing to lose. Nothing to lose, at least, other than my patience. Once upstairs, and in my bedroom, I closed the door for some privacy. I don’t know how David does it. He’s been dealing with this for months now, I’ve only had it for a couple of weeks and it’s getting to me. Perhaps it’s because I am tired; tired of moving around from school to school...Home to home...Tired of the pressures of playing catch up with school work...Tired of having to meet new people and try and make new friends...Trying to pretend that everything is okay, at home, when really...I’ve had enough of my mum’s constant smothering and the fact my old man is never there - always working for the Ministry of Defense...I’m even tired of not knowing, exactly, what he does for a living which causes us to move around so much. I’m just tired. I’ve had enough. And...I can’t believe the school phoned home on my first missing afternoon. So much for escaping from time to time, to get some peace and quiet. I can’t have them call home all the time. It’ll only cause issues at home too. Then there’ll be no escape.

The door opened and mum came in, “Your friend David is downstairs. Is he okay? His face looks terrible...”

“What?” I jumped off the bed, where I had slumped, and hurried downstairs. David was standing at the foot of the stairs with his face all battered and bruised. “What happened?” I asked.

“I’ve had enough!” he said before I had even finished my sentence. “I’ve fucking had enough of it all...” David was getting more upset. It looked as though the only reason he wasn’t already crying was because he was so angry. “All of them...I’ve had it...I’m not going back...That’s it...”

“What happened?” I asked again. “Jesus Christ, David...Just tell me!”

“Piers...His friends...They happened. Outside my house, man. Outside my house.”

“What about your parents? They didn’t see what happened?”

“They’re not home. They never get home until later in the evening. They fucking waited for me outside my house.”

Mum appeared behind me, “Are you okay?” she asked David.

“No, of course he’s not okay. Look at him!” I said. “This is what it’s like at school. Those bullies...The ones you said would leave us alone...This is what they do...” I felt myself getting as angry as David. “Come on,” I said to him, “you can get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom.” I led the way for him whilst mum just watched, a look on her face which suggested she still didn’t get it. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for her to understand.

10.

“You okay now?” I asked David. We were standing outside his front door having been given a lift by mum. She waited in the car whilst David and I chatted.

“I’m fine,” he said. I didn’t believe him. I was worried about him. He didn’t really seem as though he was there; the lights were on but he wasn’t home.

I looked towards the living room window. The lights were on so I guess one, or both, of his parents were home now. “Are you going to tell them what happened?”

“Don’t think I can hide it...” His face did look a mess. “It won’t make a difference, though. They’ll still make me go back tomorrow.”

“They don’t care?”

“Dad said once that it was deserved.”

“What? How?”

“Because...”

“You’re gay?” I asked. David didn’t say anything but I guessed that’s why his dad felt as though he deserved a beating from time to time. There was a slight pause. “You going to be okay?”

He shrugged, “What’s the alternative?”

“It’ll get better,” I said, not that I believed my own words. It has to get better. We don’t actually deserve any of what we are being subjected to. David didn’t react to what I said. “Well,” I continued, “I best get back...I’ll see you tomorrow. You never know, Piers and his friends might not show up again...Could be scared you’ll get the teachers involved and they’ll be suspended.”

David shrugged. I turned to look at mum who was still sitting in the car. I could tell she was getting impatient but hated leaving David like this. I guess everyone has a breaking point and this must have been his. I don’t blame him. I haven’t been here half as long as him and I’m already close to mine. I turned back to David to continue our conversation but he was already stepping in through his front door. Without so much of a goodbye he closed the door. Maybe he’ll be back to normal tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep?

I walked back to the car and climbed into the front seat, next to my mum.

“He seems quiet,” she said. I shot her a look.

* * * * *

“What are you doing?” asked Mrs Price. I was just standing there, in front of the class. My mind was elsewhere. Drifted off for a minute. Disappointed there isn’t enough time to deal with them all individually. “We need to get Ben some help.”

“He’s dead,” I said. I didn’t even look at him. I could tell he was dead. His breathing was noisy earlier. Now I can’t hear it at all.

“You’re going to prison...” said Mrs Price, “For a very long time.”

“No, I’m not.” I smiled at her and glanced at the gun.

“You killed someone!” she continued.

“So did Piers!” I yelled. “Chloe...” I pointed to where she was still weeping. “Murderer! Lynn...” I pointed to a girl sat towards the back near to where Piers was sitting, “Murderer! Robert...” one of Piers’ friends, “...Murderer...John...” another lad close to Piers, “even Ben and Daniel...They’re all murderers...The only difference is they didn’t pull a trigger.”

* * * * *

Lessons are about to start. The class is quieter than usual. David is doing his usual trick of leaving it until the last possible minute to come to class. There are whisperings from the back row. I can’t quite make them out. Something about David. I wonder, after last night, whether he’s coming back to class or whether his mum and dad are finally pulling him out of here and sending him somewhere else?

I turned round to look at the back of the class. Piers and his friends are missing again. Same old story with them. They fight with someone and then disappear for a few days. A few days later they re-emerge from whatever hole they crawled into, as though nothing has happened. Pieces of shit. With the mood I’m in, it’s probably a good thing they’re missing. For what they did last night, I don’t think I could keep my calm. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just Piers by himself but...Him and all of his gang? I would have just ended the same way as David did last night.

My attention turned to the back of the class, again, when the door opened. I half expected it to be David but it wasn’t. Mrs Price walked in; a solemn expression on her face. Well, this is new.

The class watched, in silence, as she put her bag by her desk. She looked as though she was taking a couple of minutes to collect her thoughts.

“We’ve just heard,” she said after a few more minutes, “that last night David took his own life...”

* * * * *

“No one in this class is innocent!” I shouted. “No one!” I waved the gun around at each of the pupils. They tried their best to duck out of the way of the barrel. “Not you! Not you! Not you! No one! You all need to learn...You need to be taught a lesson. The only innocent ones are standing here...” I turned to see David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate and Helen.

“There’s no one there,” said Mrs Price.

“Just because you don’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there but they’re always here. Always walking the corridors where they were tormented for so long...What I’m doing...What I’m here for today. Someone should have done this a long time ago...”

“What you’re doing...This doesn’t make anything right. This doesn’t change anything...”

“It will! Don’t you see. People will hear of this. This story will spread across the world...Newspapers, television programmes...A warning to others who may be tormenting colleagues close to them...”

“It won’t. You’ll just go down in history as another psychopath killing innocent people in their school...”

“Just as David will be another suicide statistic?”

* * * * *

Mrs Price’s short words were all that was mentioned of David in the school - at least in front of the pupils. There were no speeches, in the morning assembly, offering people in the same position as David any help. There was no advice for handling bullies. There was nothing. Even the local newspaper hardly went into any details about it when it landed on the doorstep three days after the event.

My mum felt bad for me, as I had lost a friend, but then went onto say she could see it coming. She could see it in his eyes that he was a troubled young boy; a damaged soul. Teachers didn’t have much to say either. Apparently David had a history of depression which he brought to the school with him - documented in his file from his previous school. I told them about the bullying but it was, more or less, brushed under the carpet. Piers and his friends, of course, denied everything. What made it worse, with regards to Piers and his buddies, was that every time I looked at them - they were laughing. I’m not sure what about but...Did none of them feel any remorse? Did they honestly believe they weren’t to blame for what happened to David?

“What are you doing in here?” mum asked. I was sitting in dad’s office. An office which was normally out of bounds due to the sensitive documents he sometimes had with him. I could never help but wonder why, if they were so sensitive, he brought them home and, more importantly, what difference it made whether we were allowed in the study or not...It wasn’t as though he left them on his desk. They were all locked away in his large wall safe. Speaking of which...I was frantically trying to guess the combination. “I asked you a question.” The locking mechanism of the safe clicked open. Success. Having tried his date of birth, mum’s date of birth, my date of birth...I was surprised when it clicked open on their wedding anniversary. In a world this shitty it was nice to see he still valued his marriage - more than can be said for some couples. Unless, of course, he just doesn’t know how to change the combination code now that it is set. “Get away from there...Your father will kill you.”

I doubt it. He’s never here.

I pulled the door open. There it is. Just as I had hoped. I reached in and took hold of his handgun. His favourite piece to use whenever he is training new cadets. At least, that’s what he tells me it’s for. For all I know he could have purchased it from the black market just as a source of protection for the house. I wonder if mum knew it was here? I only knew from when I had seen it over his shoulder.

“Put that down!” mum said sternly as I pulled the gun from the safe.

“I can’t. I need it.”

“Need it? For what?”

I just looked at her. She knew what it was for. Did I really have to spell it out? I need it to teach them a lesson. All of them. Just as David wanted to do. I’m doing it for David...

“You’re not leaving the house with it,” mum said. She blocked the doorway. I can only hope she isn’t going to test me. “You’re not taking that to school,” she continued - proof that she knew exactly what I wanted it for.

“Yes, I am. I need to show them they can’t push people around anymore. I need to show them there are consequences to their actions. They need to know I’m not afraid. They need to know...”

“You’re not afraid? Then you don’t need to take a gun to school...”

“I need to show them!” I shouted. I could feel my eyes start to well up. “Did you know David wasn’t the first to kill himself at my school? There were others too...Others who were bullied like David. The first I have heard of this was yesterday...In the cafeteria...People talking about it...Remembering the others who had taken their lives as well because they were bullied...”

“So you go and hurt the one who bullied your friend?” said mum. “There will just be another bully further down the line. No matter what is said and done, there will always be someone to take their place.”

“There doesn’t have to be. I can teach them. I can show them the error of their ways. I can show them. They won’t hurt anyone again. They won’t. And when news gets out about what I’ve done...When the news gets out - no one will want to hurt anyone again...”

“You’re being silly,” said mum, “the world doesn’t work like that.”

“It can. No one has tried it yet.”

“I’m sorry about your friend. You know I am. If you want to look at changing schools, I’ll talk with your father when he calls...”

“What’s the point? Every school is the same! I need to do this. Not just for me but people like David....”

“But...”

“Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate...Helen...Now David. I found the newspaper reports on them on the school computer. They all killed themselves using various methods. All dead because of bullies...”

“You don’t know that, it could have been because...”

“Of course it was to do with the bullies. There may have been something else in their life to upset them too but you know it would have been the likes of Piers who had tipped them over the edge. Every time I shut my eyes I see them standing there. Every time...”

* * * * *

I looked at the David and the others. Time was running out. Too much taken up with arguing with Mrs Price about what I was doing. How wrong I was. I’m not a psychopath. I’m not. I’m the innocent one. David and the other six students...We are the innocent ones...Backed into corners with no visible exit other than what I’m doing here or suicide. I need to do this. Just skip across to Piers. He is the main culprit, in my eyes. Teach him a lesson so harsh the others will learn from it.

This is it.

This is what I’ve been gearing towards.

11.

“Enough is enough,” barked Mrs Price, “give me the gun!”

Who does she think she is giving orders like that? She forgets, this is my class. I am the one in charge. She is right, though, enough is enough. I’ve already passed the point of no return. Now it’s time to end it.

“Give me the gun!” she screamed.

* * * * *

I’d never heard my mum shout like that and it took me back a bit.

“Give me the gun!” she screamed again. I went to push past her but she grabbed for the gun. She was screaming for me to hand it over but I wouldn’t. For a split second we both danced around the room, fighting over the gun, when suddenly a shot rang through the house - echoing in the small room we were in.

* * * * *

Mrs Price looked startled as I looked at her down the barrel of the smoking gun. Blood immediately poured from the hole in her chest. She dropped to her knees without another word and then face-planted onto the hard floor. The rest of the class screamed and immediately jumped up from their desks. Someone would have heard that. Someone would be coming now.

* * * * *

It doesn’t matter if the sound of the gunshot does attract people. I won’t be here. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for the gun to go off but I can’t stay here regretting what’s happened. As I looked down at mum, who was lying face down in a pooling puddle of blood, I knew that none of this was my fault. I feel numb about what I’ve done. It’s not my fault. None of it. This is their fault. The bullies. Piers. This is his fault. Lessons start in less than an hour. I need to be ready. I only hope I can get this finished before they come for me.

* * * * *

I didn’t care that the class was in a panic. I didn’t care that some of them had dared to make a rush for the door. They could go. It didn’t matter anymore. All that matters is him...Piers. He is still in the back row of the class. I’m not sure whether he is still too stunned to make a run for it or too stupid. Either way I’m grateful. I didn’t want to have to chase him through the school.

I stormed over to where Piers was sitting, smoking gun still in my hand, and grabbed him by his hair. He let out a funny little wail as I pulled him to his feet and marched him to the front of the classroom. By the time we get there, most of the class is empty. It’s just me...Ben, Mrs Price and Piers. Even Daniel managed to get out of the room - no doubt racing off home to brush his teeth and rinse out the flavour of cock with extra strong mouthwash. Fucking faggot.

“You did all this!” I screamed at Piers. “You!”

It didn’t matter about being quiet now. I knew they were coming for me. Someone would have called the police by now...Someone would have run to the other teachers. Time is against me.

“Fuck you!” hissed Piers. I smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun and he let out of a scream. His front two teeth cracked on impact with the hard metal. That’s going to hurt in the morning.

“No! Fuck you! You did all this.” I raised the butt of the gun back into the air and dropped it down onto his face once more. A loud crack. Was that his nose? He looked dazed. “Don’t you fucking pass out...”

“Stop! What are you doing?” came a voice from the doorway.

I looked up to see the Head Teacher standing there with a look of horror on his face. I pointed the gun directly at him. He put his hands out in front of him as though they’d stop a bullet from flying towards him.

“Tell me about David,” I shouted.

“What?”

“Tell me about David...What sort of person was he?”

There was a slight pause.

“He was a confused la....” he started.

I pulled the trigger and he dropped dead. David wasn’t confused. David was a victim. We’re all victims. “Because of people like you,” I said to Piers - the final string of my thoughts coming out vocally.

“Please...Don’t kill me...” he said. Have the beatings finally broken him down?  Or was it the sight of the Head Teacher and Mrs Price getting a bullet? This ‘hard man’ who gives off an image of someone who won’t be controlled finally broken? I won’t pretend not to be a little disappointed. I was looking forward to hitting him some more but, truth be told, it’s probably for the best. I’m pretty sure I can already hear the sirens in the distance.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I said to Piers. “I want you to live with this. I want you to live with the knowledge you killed Mrs Price. You killed the Head. You killed my mum, you son of a bitch, and David. Even Ben’s death is because of you. Everything that happened...Your fault. Say it...”

“It’s my fault,” he spluttered through broken teeth and bloody gums.

“Louder!” I ordered.

“It’s my fault,” he repeated.

“Shout it!”

“It’s my fault!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Again!”

“IT’S MY FAULT!”

The sirens are outside now. They’re here. That’s it. Game over.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I hissed. Piers was crying as he opened his mouth. “Wider!” I told him. Broken boy did as was instructed.

Doors are banging against walls in the corridors beyond the classroom. This is it. The lesson has come to an end. Seconds later there were officers standing in the doorway with guns pointed at me. I’m sure there are more, waiting for their turn to take a pop, in the corridor.

“DROP THE FUCKING GUN!” one of them shouted.

I put my head against Piers face so that my ear was level with his mouth. I swear, despite the shouting police, I could hear his fear coming from his body. And smell it. Broken boy wet himself? I smile spread across my face as I placed the gun against my other ear.

I hope the knowledge he is responsible for all these deaths...I hope it haunts Piers for as long as he lives. If he forgets, I hope the taste of my brains, in his mouth, serves as a distasteful reminder. As I ready myself to squeeze the trigger, I only hope the bullet doesn’t go through my head, and his too. I can’t promise it won’t.

If it does. It’s not the end of the world. Just his. I closed my eyes and readied myself. This is it. I wonder if it will hurt.

“I love you.”

A friendly voice, louder in my head than the shouting police officers and sirens...I opened my eyes. David was standing slightly in front of me.

“I love you,” he said again, “always have.”

I smiled, “I love you too.” All this time and I’ve only just come to realise I was living a lie. No previous girlfriend because, subconsciously, I didn’t want it? I never realised. It doesn’t matter now. “I love you too,” I repeated. I couldn’t help but laugh. All this time I was trying to teach everyone else a lesson. Trying to teach them something, for their lives, and it was me who ended up learning something.

The school, town even, were quick to forget the previous seven who had killed themselves. I bet they aren’t as quick to forget the eighth.

I ignored the shouting, from the doorway, and squeezed the trigger.

~ FIN