Easton Park

My day started, as most do, with the smoke alarm going off like an alarm clock. I groaned as I opened my eyes, squinting at first, before I opened em all the way. Yawning, I threw on my bathrobe, the one that my grampa gave my dad before he went off to Korea, and I got when my dad kicked the bucket, and searched the room for a towel. Still, half asleep, I marched down the hallway towards the kitchen, the shag carpeting warm on my bare feet. I could see a faint haze of smoke spewing out the kitchen and the sound of laughing. More than one person laughing, which is a problem, cause I only have one roommate. And there they were, Miles and his pothead drug buddies, sitting on the kitchen floor, their drug smoke slowly turning the white ceiling and white walls yellow.

“Crap Miles, we can’t have people over,” I said, waving the towel in front of the fire alarm, attempting to clear the smoke. “It’s five in the morning and its Monday. And you can’t smoke whatever it is you’re smokin’ in here. If the dean catches you again, we’re both outta here. You’re staining the ceiling yellow, and that’s darn noticeable.”

Miles bowed his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes and looked like one o’ them dogs that gets scared and puts its tail between its legs. He looked up suddenly and stared at me with his dark brown eyes, which reminded me of a deer in headlights, the way his eyes were glassed over. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, just a pile of vomit. After a minute, a minute I wasted just standing there watching him barf, he was able to speak, though he slurred his words together.

“I . . . I . . . I’ll getthem to, to leave if . . . if you, youcan get me what . . . what Ineed,” he said, before vomiting a little more. Through the vomit, I could make out “drugs”, “school”, and “black coat”. And that’s where my life went bad. I should have said no. I should have called the cops. I should have turned the faucet on and used the hose-thing in there like I was a cop breaking up their hippie protest. But I didn’t. Hey, hindsight is a darn perfect 20/20.

I picked up a hundred dollars from the counter and stormed out of the house. We’d, or actually Miles, the loser, had been caught before, smoking weed or something outside the house, so he’d moved inside to do his drugs. I’m not surprised that he got caught, cause the outside of the house is white just like inside. He’s kinda stupid, Miles, and I think it’s from the drugs otherwise he couldn’t a gotten in here. It’s a prestigious school, Roosevelt Prep. Only top of the line families and child geniuses allowed. It’s the slogan. It’s even on a darn plaque in the front office. It’s everywhere. No mediocrity here. Top o’ class place.

I had no idea where I was going, and it’s easy to get lost in this place. The houses are all white and have flowers outside of em in the planter’s boxes. Even the grass is the same color and same height. The only visible difference is the sidewalk. Walking along the sidewalk, which was painful cause I had forgotten shoes in my rush, I tried to guess where the druggie would be. I guessed dark and shady, where we could make the trade without outsiders seeing. Outside the cafeteria, in the parking lot, or by the athletic center were my guesses cause they were normally empty and the most in the shade.

First I checked the athletic center, white walls, no black coat. Next I went to the cafeteria, white walls, no black. I was down to my last option by the time I got to the parking lot. There were only six cars in the lot, but near the large, black creepervan stood a dude in a black coat. He was smoking something out of a pipe that was producing purple smoke. He had a goatee that came to a sharp point at the end of his chin, and had long greasy, blonde hair that ran down the back of his coat, though the top of his head was covered with a black hat. Typical druggie. I walked over to him slowly, cause, to be honest, I was scared as crap. I had a 4.0 and had never gotten in trouble. They say when life becomes hell, like your mom dies or something, you remember every detail of the day. I remember there was cloud like a boat in the sky, and spare tire on the back right axle of the car. Random crap like that.

Anyway, I walked over to him and was unsure of what to do. I’d never bought drugs, over even been to that side of the tracks. Looking around, making sure no one say me, I reached my hands into my pockets and spoke to the druggie.

“Um . . . I’m here for Miles, Miles Davis, He lives in my –“

“Yeah, I know,” he spoke in a raspy voice like he had been smoking in the womb. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small packet about the size of a ketchup packet.“Hundred dollars.”

“Hundred dollars? Darn, that’s a bit steep right?”

“Hundred dollars,” he said again, pulling out a syringe.

“Okay, okay.” I passed him the hundred dollars, hurriedly, and he gave me what I assumed were narcotics.
My palms were sweating and my breath caught in my throat. “I just want to let you know that I don’t buy drugs because-“

“Crap,” he screamed. He was no longer looking at me, and following his eyes, I saw a kid, who I assume had been walking through the almost empty lot and was no stopped with his eyes popped and jaw on the floor. I knew the kid from somewhere, let’s say 3^rd period physics. And if I knew him, he knew me.

I don’t know what I was thinking, I wasn’t, except that I realized that this would be the first time that I was in trouble. I mean deep crap. I could get suspended. Expelled, even. I guess this came to mind and I didn’t want to get expelled. I liked Roosevelt Prep. I mean, it was kinda home to me. So I followed the druggie and we began to beat the kid.

It was slow at first. The dealer tackled the kid as he tried to escaped and bashed his head into one of the cars. He let out a pained gasp and I kneed him in the small of the back, making the air escape from his lungs. I really didn’t know what to do from there, so I sat on the kid’s head while the drug dealer used his fists and went to town on the kid. I didn’t see what happened, but I could hear muffled screaming coming from below me. Then the kid went limp.

“Oh, crap,” the dealer muttered. “I think he’s dead.”

And then he ran. And I ran, too. I looked over my shoulder and saw the kid rolling over. At least he’s not dead. But I didn’t stop to help him, and I just kept running. On a deeper level, a psychologist would tell me that I was running from the evil within me, blah, blah, blah. I don’t need that stuff; I just choose to think of it in first level terms. I ran from the injured, back to my life.  And back in my dorm, I broke down, sobbing.

I had just injured someone. Not directly, but then again, I didn’t stop it. Normally, I’m a goody-two-shoes, but now, I don’t know. This is the deepest I’ve ever sank, considering my old low was getting drunk at a party and throwing up on Nigel’s lap. I could go to jail for this. Then I realized that the lot was empty and that no one would have seen us, or suspected me, at least, when he was found, because I had never been in trouble before. I decided to just ride the waves and let the situation cool before I panicked. And with that I looked at my watch and found that I was late for economics, so I picked up my books and ran out the door, worried about getting a demerit for tardiness. The real thing that scared me was how much my hands were shaking, as they might give me away without meaning it.

-----

The rest of the day passed without any significance. Besides jumping whenever anyone tried to talk to me and staring at the clock like a suicide bomber, school was school. The last class of the day – math – seemed to take an eternity; an eternity in hell. During the beginning of class, I got this unbearable headache that knocked me down. Mr. Carter, the math teacher, gave me some Advil and continued the class. Luckily, the pain subsided enough to let me continue, but it was still there, just in the back of my head. I’ve heard those are the worst kind, the back-of-the-skull headaches, cause they can mean meningitis. I waited it out, though, gritting my teeth in agony waiting for the class to finish. As soon as the last bell rang, I ran outside and threw up in the bushes, staining part of the white walls yellow.

This is when I got scared. Meningitis is common in college kids because they live in dorms, and that was the extent of my knowledge on meningitis. I didn’t know if puking was a sign of meningitis, but it couldn’t be good. I moved to the trash can and regurgitated some more crap, and probably a pancreas or something, at that. The trash can was one a those cylinder ones that you just put the bag in and leave it there, no lid or anything. That was good for me cause I could take the bag out of the can without a hassle, and take it back to my room in case I threw up again.

I made it to my room in like five hellish minutes, but I threw up again, twice, before I got there. I almost kicked down the darn door trying to get in and threw up again on the entrance, falling onto the rug. I didn’t even know where this bile was coming from but I couldn’t give a darn. I was really freaking out, so between spasms, I called out to Miles. I took the silence to mean that he was out, higher than a kite, with his buddies, the loser. And it stopped as suddenly as it started. I guess I had no more in me, and so it stopped. I didn’t really stop to ask it where the crap it went.

I got up off the floor and slowly walked to the bathroom just down the hall to take another two Advil. I sank down to the rug with the bottle still in my hand. Three minutes later, I took another two. And then another. I couldn’t get rid of the headache. It was like I was getting mauled by a bear that was riding in a semi and throwing lightning bolts while hitting me with a baseball bat. I don’t know any of these feelings but I can imagine them. They’re a true loser.

Another two Advil went down, then another two. I was popping them like French fries or gummy bears or something. Nothing could combat the darn headache. I was starting to see spots at the edge of my vision, when there was a knock at the door. Honestly, I hoped it was the police so they could take me to a hospital, it was that darn bad. I’d give up my freedom to stop the pain.

My vision was filling with spots, like a Dalmatian had walked in front of me, or something. My ears were ringing like church bells, drowning me in there darn music. Then, breaking through the roaring, came a knock, I assumed on the door. My vision was almost completely gone when the knob turned. The last thing I saw was the door opening, and then it went black.

Nigel Corso

I know you’re probably wondering why I’m hiding here away from everybody, but the whole situation started when the bell rang signaling the end of 3^rd hour biology. Mr. Thompson’s biology classroom sits in the darkest corner of the school where all floundering students meet their doom, because Mr. Thompson is the biggest textbook loser in the history of this darn school, and he was ready to piss me off a little more.

“Corso did you turn in your project?” Thompson inquired.

“No Mr. Thompson, because my compu-“ Mr. Thompson cut me off.

“Corso you need to get your act together, because if you don’t I’m going to kick your sorry behind of this campus.”

The bell rung signaling the end of class, and thank God, because I was through talking to that dumb loser. I walked out of the class with my friend Gordon complaining about Thompson all the way.

“ I hate that class,” complained Gordon

“You don’t know half of it. Hey are you going to the park with me?” I asked him. I hated going to the park alone with all the druggies and white trash, I was sure to have my wallet jacked one of these days.

“Uh no I’m gonna go meet Jamie at lunch, sorry.”

I shrugged and walked away towards the park which sits in the middle of the campus. While walking I stared straight down at the cracked sidewalk and the weeds filling in the cracks in the concrete, and it really made me realize how crappy this place is. They boast about having some boss equipment and nice facilities and crap like that, but nobody gives a crap about whether they’re rundown and stuff like that.

“Darn it!” A voice shouted from a courtyard to the left of me, and my head swiveled in that direction. For a moment I didn’t see anything, and then I some kid book it past me. I heard some swearing from that corridor, and the two guys speed after that kid.

“Holy crap!” I cried out, and dove frantically for cover. The two gangbangers ran out, and one of them tackled that kid. Then they just started whaling on this kid, and I thought one of them cut him with a knife in the back. I crept over the hill tentatively to get a better look, and one of them was Easton Park, my best friend.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” I yelled to myself. I was in deep trouble, and there was no going back.

The two kids looked around and I knelt as stiffly as a deer in headlights, and it hurt to even watch that kid down their bleed. Then the gangbangers ran away, and I ran like hell towards the bleeding kid, and turned him over. His face looked like it was stomped on, and his nose was bent way to the side. I didn’t think he could even open his eyes, because they were swelled up like balloons. I could see the cut marks on his back from the knife, and they must have pounded his arms with rocks or something like that, because bones were sticking out from his arms. His legs were contorted oddly, and probably sprained or fractured, and stuff like that. I took a closer look at his face to see if I knew him, but nope I’d never seen him before.

Then I remembered one of the bullies was my best friend… crap. That didn’t seem at all like Easton because he was such a goody two shoes. I didn’t know why he would beat that kid, and it bothered me. What would’ve happened to Easton if I told on him? I walked back to my apartment, and tried to listen to my ipod, and forget this thing, but the look on that beaten kid’s face was so messed up. The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. It was Easton. Immediately sweat started pouring down my hands, and I shuffled my feet nervously, Oh God I knew he had found out. Someone had told on me, and I was screwed.

“Nigel, what’s up, we were supposed to go bowling tonight remember?” he said

“Oh hey I must have forgotten about that.” I said, but in my mind I was screaming I know what you did you loser, what the hell are you thinking.

“Well are you coming or not?”

“Yeah sure.” You idiot, you freakin’ loser, you killed a darn person.

We got into his car, and I couldn’t think straight, I was losing my mind and my vision was blurred, or something. God, I was so nervous.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you today. What’s been up?” Easton said

“Not too much. That Thompson jackass kept on bugging me again.” Do you even realize what you’ve done? You deserve to die, and you dragged me into this.

“I hate that class, so much, he doesn’t even teach. Oh here we are.” Shut the hell up. You going to hate me later, so just hate me now.

We went into the bowling alley and paid for the bowling balls and other crap. Easton threw his bowling ball, for a perfect strike. I realized he probably didn’t even care about the beating, and he wasn’t the person I thought he was. He was just another druggie idiot. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how nervous I was. My hands were so sweaty, I dropped the bowling ball when I tried to go, and I couldn’t get my freaking conscience out of my head. I kept on hearing voices in my head telling me I had to tell somebody about him, but he was my friend. How the hell was I supposed to tell on him? I just couldn’t do it. It was so awkward we spent the whole time in complete silence.

“Nigel what’s up with you? Tell me what’s wrong, man?” Easton asked.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

“I know something’s up with you, because you’re never this quiet.”

Suddenly I was angry. I wasn’t scared anymore; I just wanted it all to end. “What the hell does it matter to you? I can be quiet if I feel like it, and I don’t need every loser on this darn campus telling me how to live my darn life.”

“What the hell is your problem?” he said. Easton shoved my, and I returned fire, shoving him backwards over a chair.

“What the hell?” he repeated shoving me again.

“Get the heck off me!” I sank my fist into is stomach and he crumpled to the ground gasping for air. I ran away, and I knew where I was going. People always say how you never betray your friends, and corny bullcrap like that, but what happens when they kill someone? How the hell was I supposed to keep that quiet? I ran past the rows of trees and buildings until I reached the one I was looking for… the principal’s office. I tried to pull through the two glass doors at the entrance, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Crap!” I screamed. I needed to tell them what happened. I needed to clear my conscience.

“Crap!” I yelled again, getting more desperate. I clawed at the glass, I needed to get in, and I didn’t know why the hell these darn doors weren’t opening. The full moon illuminated my fingers which had started bleeding, and I couldn’t figure out why the heck I couldn’t get in these doors. I realized I was out in the open, and anyone could get me. They all knew I had the secret, and they would try and find it, and I was against the whole darn world. I sprinted to my dorm, the only safe place I knew. They wanted to know all my secrets, but I’d protect them. I knew I had to hide so they wouldn’t find me, and take my secrets, but I keep them safe in my dorm, my world, so nobody could find them. Those sorry losers could look for me all they wanted, but they would never catch me. That’s why hiding in here, because everyone else on the outside wants my secrets, but I’ll keep ‘em safe, forever.

Winston Carter

I try not to think about that day much. It screwed up the last two and a half years of high school for me. I mean, I was always that kid that stood by, got good grades, and didn’t make a big deal out of anything, but this... This messed up the plan to just get by. To just make it to college, THEN strive, and live. I had to suffer so much internally from that, and I couldn’t tell my parents. They’d’ve had a cow!

Anyways, yes, I will tell you about how it happened. It started in our sophomore year at Roosevelt Prep. This kid, William, he was a great. Nice kid and everything, but kinda weird. We were normal high-schoolers, trying all sorts of, whatever they could get into. That day William went to go make a deal with one of my friends, Abraham, and some other kid, Easton, I think. Well, William wanted to get whacked, and Easton had the stuff. I was minding my own business walking between classes doing everyday normal stuff.

Abraham was a loser, but he was my friend. Ya know, everybody has that one friend that’s terrible, but you still hang around with the guy. He could hook me up too. He had connections, but that day Will musta’ been buying some hardcore stuff. Easton wanted to do that in person. I dunno what really happened behind the school that day, but from what I heard, Will wanted the stuff and Easton wanted the money. Both of them needed to get their stuff before they’d give the other guy what he wanted. You can see how that’d be an issue. Well it got physical. Quick. They musta’ gone ape on him, ‘cause the next day he was all cut and bruised.

I asked the Will what happened, but he denied anything happened. I kept pushing him till he broke. He told me to get lost, or something like that. Whatever. Well, after I heard about the deal, I figured Easton bullied him into not sayin’ anything, so I went to find Easton and straighten it out. Normally I’m a quiet guy. That is until you do something to my friends. Then I will rip off anybody’s head and burn their body for my bros.

When I found Easton I just punched him. I didn’t care. He had it coming for him even if he didn’t do anything to Will. Well it broke into a full scale brawl before you knew it. He started hitting me I was hitting him. One of us was going to bludgeon the other to death if it wasn’t broken up. Abe was both of our friends. He got us to finally calm down, but both of us were a bunch worse for wear. Once we were done I started asking him all sorts of junk about what he did and didn’t do to Will. He told me it was just a deal gone wrong and nothing more. Nothing big would happen from it. I knew it probably was something like that, but Easton needed to be brought down off of his high horse. He thought he could do all sorts of junk and not get caught or nothing. To him nothing would ever happen. I thought it was time to change that. But I already told you I’m loyal to my bros, and Abe was my bro. He was in on the deal gone wrong, and I didn’t have crap on Easton without a story from Will, and, even if I did, Abe would get hosed too. Man I couldn’t do anything without screwing over one of my guys. I already told you, nothing is done until my guys are fine and taken care of. After that, they weren’t. I couldn’t tell without Abe getting screwed. I couldn’t not tell and have Will just suffer from everything coming from Easton, and if I did nothing, it’d be like screwing both of ‘em.

It was the most intense moral dilemma that I’ve ever endured. Even until now. That was intense. I was going back to my house when this loser came up to me. We called him No Name ‘cause he had this long complicated Russian name. Well, No Name asked me if I knew what happened to Will, and this situation was so messed up that I just pretended that I didn’t know what he was talking about so I could hear his side. He said that last week Will did something that upset Easton, and that was why Easton pounded him. Abe was there to try to break it up, and calm down Easton. I didn’t believe that. Abe never calmed anybody down. He was all for fights to break out. Man, at that point I was about ready to off myself, but I knew that wouldn't help anybody.

Then I just went home. I went home and laid on my bed, and I started thinking. Life was so complicated. I had three choices. Three different people could get hurt. Three different ways that life would never be the same.

Abraham Harriston

I honestly don’t understand why everyone gives such a darn. It was just another day that happened to contain some bloodshed. That morning I got up in my apartment, as usual. God, was that a crap hole. It smelled like vomit and drugs, all day, every day. I’m pretty sure that all the people there had been in jail at some time, but who am I to talk? I’m a gosh darn drug dealer. It’s funny. As we grow up the adults always say drugs will kill you and other bullcrap, but drugs are the only reason I’m still living.

You see, it’s a cycle. I get drugs and sell them and get money. With that money I get more drugs and sell those. Drugs are a lifestyle. I probably could do a little more with the money I get but I don’t see the point. My parents both left me ‘cause I was an annoying child, so I learned how to live with bare minimum. When you’re living on that little, life blows. The drugs were just the light at the end of the tunnel, that’s it.

I feel like I’m getting away from the point though. Anyways, I got an order from this guy, Miles. He was a usual customer, just another bum polluting the streets. He said that he was sick, but that guy was always sick. Apparently, he was too sick to get his ass off the couch and get the drugs but he said that he was going to send his roommate, Easton or some stupid name like that. He warned me that this kid was a parent’s wet dream and that he probably would be scared crapless, ‘cause hell, he ain’t broke the law before. I always hate these softies. They make the job tough, mostly ‘cause the “men in blue” can see the urine trail they left. So, I told Miles that I’ll deal with him and that I’d meet him at Roosevelt Prep. I filled him in on some details then hung up the phone.

I lit up a cigarette and then changed out of my wifebeater and boxers and put on my “dealer” clothes. Darn I love those clothes. The black trench coat makes me feel like Sherlock Holmes or some guy like that. The black hat just finishes it off. It makes me look like of Satan’s disciples and crap, and darn do I look good. Lastly, I wear black gloves, just to be safe. You never know what crap will happen.

As I left, I look around my room and gave it the good ole’ bird. I walked down the hallway tip-toeing around the mounds of vomit and finally made it to the parking lot. The parking lot is a lot like a used toilet. For some cars, it looked as if there was metal to mend the tape. My car is at the end of the second row of the parking lot. I personally believe that my car is a beauty. It’s a black van, most commonly referred to as a creeper van, and polished to perfection. It was the only car there that didn’t look like it had been to Hell and back. The inside smelled like drugs and the ceiling was yellow from smoke, but, heck ,that kind of felt like home for me.

I got in the van and started driving. I’d been to Roosevelt Prep many times. Darn those kids like their drugs. I guess that’s the effect of high-end bullcrap schooling. At least once a week I make a trip over there and those kids are salivating over my product. The thing about it though is how gosh darn nosy everyone is. It seems no matter what you do there, there is always some shoving their gosh darn face in someone else’s business and that’s when crap goes down.

My name is Abraham Harriston, by the way. I agree, a pretty stupid name. I ran away from formality, but that gosh darn name sticks with me. I swear, once I turn 18 I’m changing my name. That’s gonna be my gift to myself. It’s gonna be something like Anthony Edgerson, or some crap like that, something cooler, I guess.

After a couple of minutes, I finally made it to the school. I set up camp in the dark corner of the back parking lot of Roosevelt Prep. I got out, opened up the back and made sure everything was all set. Knowing that this guy would probably take a while I lit up some of this new crap a guy gave me. After five long minutes, the guy finally started to come here.

“Are you going to hurry your ass up or what?” I yelled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He shuffled slowly along the pavement. His face made him look as if he was constipated. It was some funny stuff.

“You got the money?”

“Yeah, yeah. How much?”

“$50.”

“$50?”

“Yeah, you better have it or else…”

“Ok, ok, I got it. Just think that’s a bit too much gosh darn money.”

“Did I ask for your opinion, craphead?”

“Sorry,” God, was this kid a softie. I thought crap was rolling down his leg right now, “So, can I have the stuff?”

“Yeah. Here ya go.” As he took the drugs he must of saw a guy in the parking lot staring at us.

“Darnit!” He yelled. He chased after him and I followed behind him. This kid was legit going ape on this guy. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught by the police or anything so I started pounding on him too. His face slowly swelled up and when I thought he was good, the gosh darn idiot pulled out a knife and started slitting up his back.

At that point, I hauled ass outta there and drove home as fast as those tires could go.

That was some scarring crap. As I got back to my apartment I was shivering uncontrollably.

Hell, now that I’m telling you, this wasn’t just any day. Gosh darn it! What the heck am I doing with my life? Ever since I was a kid I’ve been messing up crap, and now I’m worthless piece of crap that no one gives a darn about. Holy crap, God help me. Regret is a hefty thing man and I don’t think I can live with this anymore.

Darnit, where is that rope?

Dragovski "No Name" Norris

Math sucks. All that goes on is the frickin teacher telling me what to do. I hate people telling me what do.  I'm good at I guess but I just hate it. Nobody pays any attention . So I was just sitting there debating whether to attack the teacher (I have thoughts like that all the time) and I started staring out the window. So I'm staring out the window wondering what's for lunch when I see my good friend Will walking through the parking lot. The first thought that went through my mind was something along the lines Holy hell he's cutting school! Jumping  up and yelling

"Yeah!!!! Go Will!!!!"

Everybody turns and looks at me like what the hell are you doing. Realizing I was still in math I looked around and told our teacher

"Sorry Mr. Carter, I just really love this lesson."

Being one of the many snobby British teachers that work here he just told me

"Why thank you my good boy, now please sit down so I may resume my lesson."

Still chuckling to myself I sat down and zoned out the rest of the lesson.

At lunch everybody wanted to talk about what I did and how it was sooo funny. I started getting really ticked off after about three accounts of what I did. Finally I screamed at everybody to shut the hell up cuz I know what I fricken did. I'm the one who did it! They all looked at me like I was high or somethin as I walked back to my dorm. After sitting there mulling things over with cigarette I decided I should probably try to have less outbursts if I wanted to fit in. It's just the fact that I have a low tolerance for idiocy and if that limit is exceeded I get angry quite fast, and when I'm angry all hell breaks loose. After sitting there for awhile I opened the window to let some of the smoke out. All of the sudden all of these screams start coming from the parking lot. I decided to go check it out cuz I'm a pretty curious person by nature. When I was about half way there I remembered that Will had been in the parking lot. Let me tell you, I love Will like a brother but he isn't exactly the fighting type. This thought got me sprinting and I got to where I thought the screams were coming from in about a minute. As I looked around I saw an old LSD joint. This brought a wave of relief. Will wasn't getting beat up, it was just somebody havin a bad trip. I still decided to go find them because on the inside I'm a little bit of a softie, but if you tell anybody I'm gunna kick your ass all the way to hell. As I turned a corner around a car I saw a body laying on the ground.

My mouth dropped open as I ran over to Will's limp body. There was a lot of blood. I'm an avid hunter so I know how much blood is fatal and this was getting pretty close to that magic amount number. Taking my knife out of my pocket I began to cut bandages from my shirt (and yes I do always carry a knife with me, you never know when you might need it). Tying up his various cuts I started trying to wake him up. After about 5 minutes he woke up. It took us about a half hour to get him over to the nurse's office. I thought her eyes were gunna pop they got so big. She told me to leave him there and that he would be better in a couple of days. It was a hard decision to leave him there but it wouldn't do Will any good to have me hovering around and this way I can start finding out who did this to him and start planning some serious revenge. When I'm done with em, those losers will wish they had never been born.

I spent the next couple of weeks trying to figure out who would've done this. Slowly  analyzing just about every person in our grade and came up with a few candidates but none of them were very likely. Finally I heard through the grapevine about a drug bust involving two people that I thought could have never done somethin like this. Will was back in school after about three days in the nurses office. I tried asking him who it was but he didn't remember much cuz he hit is head on a car. He did say that is was somebody dealin drugs though. This was really starting to tick me off so I decided to confront these kids like a pro. I wanted to get a bunch of people and some leather jackets so we could start snapping as we came out of an alley to confront these kids but, that didn't work. Figuring that I would just get stomped if I confronted the both of them,m I decided to do it one at a time. Will wanted to come along to see if he recognized his attacker so I just gave him one of my knives and said

"use this only if attacked first, and if he does come at you, aim for the legs so we can stomp him."

He just nodded and set his jaw. I was trying not to laugh cuz Will looking tough is an oxymoron. Feeling slightly stalkerish as we started walking towards where this kid normally hangs out. I'm the kind of person that knows where all the exits in a building are and that picks up on people's habits. Will and I kept our heads down as we walked, hoping that nobody would recognize us and blow our cover. The kid was just standing in an alley smoking as we stood up.

"Sup" 

was the first thing he said to us. I don't think he recognized me cuz apparently I'm wallpaper to this entire school, but his eyes definitely widened when he saw Will. Guilty. Grabbing his sweatshirt I slammed him into the wall. I slowly told him

"Now, I'm gunna ask you some questions and I want the legit story, you here me?"

The punk just nodded and so I began my interrogation.

"Are you on drugs?"

"Yeah, who isn't?"

"A yes or no answer will be fine."

"K."

"Did you beat him up?"

"Yeah, but it was mainly Abraham Harriston."

"Why did you beat up Will?"

"He saw me getting drugs from Abe and we thought he would tell the fuzz."

"Oh, well that makes sense." I rounded on Will saying

"Dude you wouldn’t tell on him would you? You understand that he doesn't do this of free will, it's the drugs controlling him. He couldn't quit any faster than a cow could tap dance."

Will started to look at his feet.

"Well I can't just let people deal drugs at our school, it's unethical!"

"You can't just go blabbing to people about drugs!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not his fault! It’s the drugs controlling him!"

At one point I was addicted to LSD for about 6 months before I managed to quit so I know what it's like to be addicted to drugs.

"Please, people always have a choice."

"Don't be so stubborn Will! Please just forget this ever happened."

"No, I can't just let you and your druggie friends ruin this fine establishment."

"Will, I'm about to bust a cap in your ass, so just don't tell anybody about this ok?"

He just looked at me defiantly and began to dial. The only thing I did was pull a Glock out of my coat.

William Scholotzky III

It was early in the morning, too early for anyone else in the whole world to be awake.  Yeah, I know about all those Asians on the other side, but at this early there’s not too much worrying whether they’re alive right now.  For all care or know, they could be blowing up by landmines planted by Al Qaeda members.  But like I said, no one cares.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed as I hit my head on the corner of the wooden cupboard.  I knew this was going to be a long morning.  The milk was spoiled already, and I had no idea what food was left in the apartment. 

About twenty torturous minutes later, I had my light blue jeans and a stained white T on as I headed for the door. 

Who cares what my mom would’ve said.  “William!  Put on your jacket!  It’s only sixteen degrees outside!  Only an idiot would think about going out there in what you have on right now.”

Little I care about how idiotic I may be right now, I know I’m not gonna put on a stupid coat anytime soon.  October weather is not cold by any means, and I don’t even see why people have coats on in public.  Someone’s gotta make fun of them.

After I left my room, I had to run down seven flights of stairs quickly if I didn’t wanna be for school.  Norris thinks I’ll get suspended if I get another tardy.  He believes eleven’s too much.  He doesn’t know what he’s really talkin’ about.  He just thinks that cuz he’s never gotten a tardy before.  He’s such a kiss up to the teacher, especially the men.  Oh well, I think I might be able to pull off a feasible excuse today.

I finally was out of the complex, and all I had to do was turn the corner and run at full speed.  But life isn’t always that easy.  There was what I thought as the sound of two other boys making an agreement.  I sure hoped it wasn’t anything important or dangerous.  Today just wasn’t my day.

“Hey Easton, take a few before some teacher can spot us out here.  We’re in plain view sight of the school.  Hurry up now!  We don’t have all day!”  I couldn’t exactly depict the voice of the dealer, but I knew he was from our school.

I thought twice about turning the corner, afraid of getting in the middle of their transaction.  But my conscience was urging me to keep moving, and reminded me that I was gonna be late for school.  So I chose nothing but to run right past them as fast as I could, disregarding the option of acting casual.  I completely regret every second from the morning I woke up.

“Hey you kid!  You were listening in on our entire conversation, weren’t you?  Easton, get him!”

I tried to keep running as fast as I could, but stepping on Jordan’s pencil the other day while barefoot definitely slowed down my speed.  They caught up.

The amount of fists that were placed onto my mouth, stomach, and even my chest were more than I could count, or even remember for that matter.  I think my sight went completely black, but I couldn’t really remember much else.  It sounded like fifty voices were screaming at me.  Most of the words sounded like swearing to me.  They must’ve completed whatever task they were heading for, like who can cause the most blood loss.  I was sure knocked for as long as I could remember.  I don’t even recall what I ate the entire day.  Spaghetti sounds right.  Ahh, it still hurts!  I wish I killed those losers a long time ago!

“Does this hurt?” The nurse calmly asked me as she pushed hard on my forehead.  Did she honestly believe that I could possibly say that it didn’t hurt when there was a three inch diameter bruise with a two and a half inch long cut on it?  How careless is she?!  She needs to go take up another profession like bull riding or something far away from people in danger.  I want to be the last one to say that she should not lay foot in this hospital unless she has seventeen broken bones!

Once the nurse left the room, I tried as hard as I could to get myself out of bed and escape this crappy building before anyone noticed.  Yeah, my legs didn’t agree with me this time.  I collapsed harder than I did by my apartment building, and that says a lot.  Fortunately, my arms weren’t too much out of shape, so I managed to crawl out of the dump I never wanted to be close to in a million years. 

Getting into the lobby was no hassle, but all of the people in the waiting room gave me a glaring look.  They must’ve thought I’d come from some abandoned island without food for fifteen years.  I did not look like I belonged in this world.  I don’t blame them, but I wasn’t about to take a shower with all these cuts and bruises.  Stupid Easton!  You and that other loser almost killed me!  I am going to find out his name, and I will find him and teach him who messes with whom.  I can promise him that he won’t be laying another hand on me! 

Walking home wasn’t the most relaxing trip I’ve taken in my life, and I was still scared that those two idiots would be waiting for me to arrive, and then they would come out and ambush me like two leopards attacking a wounded zebra.  One thing I knew was that I wasn’t about to run into the apartment.  I know nothing good comes from running today.  So I decided to leisurely make my way into the apartment complex.  Of course, going to slow would cause some commotion to occur.  My heart almost skipped twenty beats at the sound of:

“Hello William!  Yes, you!” Mr. Harioki, my physics teacher, pointed directly at me as I looked confused with his greeting.

“Why you not at school today? Is it a joke to you?  You know at frequency you going to school you will not make it to col—” his sentence stopped midway at seeing the sight of my cuts and bruises, not to mention my major limp. 

“Oh no, Mr. Scholotzky! What happen to you?  This was not another fight you lost, was it?”  Mr. Harioki asked with concern. 

A fight wasn’t exactly the word I would’ve used, but I definitely lost whatever thing I got into.  However, I didn’t want to flat out tell him that I got the  beaten out of me.  That’s something that I would classify as embarrassing for life.  On the other hand, I didn’t want to lie to him and say I tripped or something lame and I did want to see those two thugs get in big trouble.  So I decided to admit the truth. 

“Well, this mornin’ I was tryin’ not ta be late to school, because I got up late.  So I’s turnin’ and then before I made it around the corner I heard two guys talkin’ ‘bout dealin’ drugs or somethin’ like that.  I got scared of their capabilities to beat me up, but at the same time I knew I was gonna be late if I didn’t hurry.  So I ended up sprinting past them to try to get to school before they would start caring or catch or hurt me, but they caught me and then things started to hurt and get black and my eyes started to swell up right before I think I went unconscious.  Then I woke up in the county hospital, and I escaped before you caught me and then the present began.”

“Who were these guys you claim attack you?”

“I only knew one because the other guy whose identity escapes my mind called him Easton.  The only Easton I believe that is in this entire city is Easton Park.  So you could go ask him and try to make him talk.  It’s strange because he’s not normally the type of guy who would idealize beating up a kid in half of his classes.”

“Well what did other guy look like?  Was he tall, fat, big nose, please specify, I cannot help if you not tell me details.”

“I’m not sure!  He was wearin’ a black hoody and I didn’t get much time to notice details about him.  I was trying to avoid them, not study them.  Anyway, you’re not gonna mark me absent for this, are ya?”

“Not if you telling truth, Mr. Scholotzky.  You could make whole thing up Mr. Scholotzky.

That’s exactly how are our conversation went and ended, and I would assume he took the predicament into his hands.  Now all I need to do is to take some pain killers and heal up so I can go to Easton’s house and knock some sense into that idiot.  I hope he is scared right now, and if I were him, I wouldn’t hold my head up too high right now.  Things are gonna get ugly before they get better, and that’s a fact.  Things need to get even, and my act of righteousness in the worst way possible is the only way that our lives can be even.  Both Easton and the other guy; we will all be even.