In this area, the lights never come on, there are no visitors, and it's always dead silent. The houses stand empty without residents, and no one wants to buy a home here.
Twelve-year-old Luke Campbell suffers from loneliness - he has no friends, an...
Another school day promised nothing extraordinary and was supposed to be just another ordinary day, like all the others. But you can never be a hundred percent sure about anything.
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Luke was minding his own business, packing up his stuff in the corner of the classroom when a group of bullies cornered him. They shoved him against the wall and said,"We've got a job for you."
"You need it, you go get it," Luke said in a frightened voice.
"Shut up and listen!" Jack, the ringleader, grinned evilly. He was almost insane. "You’re going to break into that old building on Blackwell Road Street tonight. There's only one guard there late at night, so you'll be almost all alone. If you screw this up, you're dead. Got it?"
The bullies laughed. "You're going to steal a gold cigarette box from the basement - quite a valuable thing. Imagine it being mine."
Luke was terrified. "I can't do that," he stammered.
Luke glanced hopefully at the teacher sitting at the desk, but it seemed he was incredibly indifferent to everything that was happening and completely oblivious to the drama unfolding before him.
"I'm not going to steal anything. If you need it, you steal it yourself!"
"Do you want to get to the afterlife sooner than you're supposed to?" Suddenly, a utility knife gleamed in Jack's hand. It seemed the scumbag wasn't joking. "So what do you say now?"
Luke barely nodded - after all, life was more precious to him than his own dignity. He had no choice but to steal.
The most interesting part of the situation was that this conversation took place in a classroom full of teachers and students. And no one, not a single living soul, made the slightest effort to stop the violence. Because who needs to protect unwanted, insignificant kids?
***
Luke stared out the car window, watching raindrops race down the glass. He sighed, his thoughts swirling like the storm outside. This world, he mused, could be so cruel sometimes. Why did some kids think it was okay to treat others like that? It wasn't fair.
School was supposed to be a place to learn and have fun, but lately, it felt more like a battleground. The bullies roamed the halls like they owned the place, targeting anyone they thought was weaker. The boy wished everyone could just get along, but that seemed like a distant dream in a school where the biggest kid ruled the roost.
Even the teachers didn't always see what was going on. They had their hands full with lessons and paperwork, missing the whispered threats and shoved shoulders in the corridors. "Maybe they're overwhelmed," he considered. "But they need to open their eyes. They have a responsibility to protect us."
If someone asked Luke to name the primary emotion of his childhood, the answer would be hatred. Because there were too few things he loved and far too many he hated.
The boy was pondering as he rode in the car with his parents to the supermarket in the evening.
"Luke, are you sure everything is okay?" his father asked when they were nearing their destination.
"Why do you always think something's wrong with me?" the boy pouted.
"You haven't said a word the whole way," observed his mother, "and you haven't even played on your phone. Tell us honestly, are you not feeling well?"
