Answer The Simple Question "Who Am I?"

Probably confused me with--

Transferring from the city to the suburbs and a new school is difficult, especially since the accident, but I managed. It seems like the farther you get from the city, the nicer people become. I thought that the people out here would be mean and ruthless, but they are the exact opposite. Today is my first day, and I already made lots of friends. My new best friends are showing me around, so I wont get lost. Isn't that awesome!

Or at least that's how I wanted my first day to be...that's how i dreamed it...but it was the exact opposite.

The people who I thought would let me be their friends are only using me for my smarts. Yeah, my cousin doesn't have enough money to pay for the house that we live in, but since I excelled in my last school, the school board thought that I should go to a school that would let me "unleash all of my potential", so they pay my tuition and part of the bills for the house, but my cousin still has to work to pay the rest, which is still a lot.

Jamie is this punk rock type of girl, you know with spiky hair and stuff, while her sister Amie, is the exact opposite, 'your stereotypical blonde' is the best way to subscribe her. I don't know who's older, but from what I heard around the halls is that they have different moms. Then the twins are exactly the same, voice, humor, action, and intelligence wise. They both have short brown hair and lightly tanned skin, and that smile that makes the girls scream is the same horrible smile that they shared with me that I thought meant 'friends'. In school, there were the first to talk to me, so I thought they were my friends, but then at the end of the school day, they dragged me outside telling me that I have to do their essays for them. My first day, and I was already being targeted and attacked by your idiotic bullies.

"Hehehehe!" Amie's annoying fake laugh could be heard throughout this extremely quiet neighborhood. Jamie had just told her the story of how the twins dropped a water balloon from the roof onto some unsuspecting fifth graders.

"What do you think?" Jamie asked, wrapping herself around my shoulders, "Don't you think its hilarious?"

"No." I replied, moving her arms off of me, which earned my a scoff as I began walking faster up these really long suburban blocks.

"Well, whatever." One of the twins grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back, "Your opinion doesn't really matter, as long as you do what we need you to do, everything will be just fine"

"And how do you figure that?" I asked, gritting my teeth as he leaned in and our faces were mere centimeters apart.

"There are kids much worse than us, you know" he began, "See we're giving you a win-win situation"

I stepped back, separating us further. They walked ahead of me and made a barrier in front of me. "You see, as long as you do our work and get us good grades, we'll be your best friends!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"Why do you need my help?" I asked, wishing I hadn't, but continued anyway, "You have to be really smart to get into Dangar, so I highly doubt you need my help for your grades. And you all have a lot of money...so what is it that you truly need me for?"

They looked at each other, "Well the thing is," the other twin began, "Dangar has a lot of work, and yes we can do it ourselves, but where's the fun in that? I prefer to go to parties, much more than sit at home and do work all day. So why should I when there's a new kid in raggedy clothes, just begging for a companion. And I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with someone like you if it weren't for a good reason. And that good reason just so happen to be that no one in the school will even talk to you, so you'll spend a lot of time at home...so why not spend your time doing our work?"

"That's a terrible reason!" I yelled, trying to walk passed them, but the first twin pushed me back, "Its a perfect reason" he replied harshly. He pushed me forward and we went back to walking, Amie laughing again, this time at my pathetic-ness.

"You sick bastard!" was the last thing I heard, before my face was brutally punched by some random stranger. I fell to the ground, blood dripping out of my mouth onto the pavement. I looked up and the my 'friends' were nowhere in sight. Another hard hit landed on my face, making my head ricochet off the concrete. Then there were more and more blows to my body, I couldn't get up to fight back, and I could tell he was screaming something but with all the punches, my ears gave up.

To my rescue, some people came out of their homes and ran toward my aid, picking the mystery boy up and throwing him to the side. Others came near me and began helping.

"Get the hell off of me!" The boy shouted, kicking and punching the others, finally breaking free of their grasps, he began running down the block away from us.

"I'll fucking kill you Devilin!" he shouted, turning the corner and disappeared.

"Are you alright?" asked an elderly lady, wiping my mouth with my sleeve and staining my all whits school shirt, I got up, "I'm fine" I lied and began running in the opposite direction. The people who came out to help me all went back inside, so it was only the elderly lady out as I got up and spun the corner, taking the long way home. I didn't want to run into that guy again.

It took me another ten minutes to get home, but when I did, Mat was outside waiting for me.

"Where the hell were you?!"

I stared at the ground, trying to by him as quickly as possible but failed. He lifted my face and saw all the cuts and bruises. Immediately he grabbed my arm and dragged me in the house into the living room. He pushed me down onto our blue sofa and told me to stay put. Before he left out I could see the stress lines forming on his face.

Did he expect this to happen? He's acting so calmly about it.

He came back with a large bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls and began working in my face.

A sigh escaped his mouth, "What the hell happened? How do you get beat up on your first day?" He sounded exhausted, but you can't blame him, he works two jobs, one in the morning the other at night, just to pay the other half of our bill's. Its hard being a highschool dropout taking care of your cousin's kid.

"Some random guy called me a 'sick bastard' and started to attack me"

He stopped, "what the hell did he look like" his face was serious, I should of said it was school related. Then he would have left it alone for me to deal with like an adult, but for it to be random, Mat would handle it himself. Mat is a pretty buff guy especially since he's like 31.

"Well he has like really tanned skin and long black hair--almost like a girl, braided back...or atleast I think it was tied...his hair was very messy that it could have been just knotted." I tried to laugh, but Mat's face showed no amusement. "He has like tanned skin. He wore some really baggy clothes. I didn't see his face or anything though, I just saw him from behind."

"Cant do much from your description" he sighed again, this time in a disappointed sort if way, I guess he wanted the thrill of punching someone in the face.

He treated my face in silence and then told me to go to my room, 'You're not going to school tomorrow' he told me as he walked out the door to go outside, by then I was already up half of the stairs rethinking everything that happended today...

"I'll fucking kill you Devilin!" Oh yea...he did call me that...but that's not my name...nowhere near.

I decided not to tell Mat though, no purpose. The dude probably confused me with someone else.

But that name does sound familiar...I'm pretty sure I heard it somewhere...

I entered my room and plummeted onto my bed, Its been a long day. I looked at the clock on the dresser next to my bed, 6:15, a little early to be going to bed, so I sat up and walked over to my computer desk on the far side of the room. Switching on the lamp, I sat down and pulled out some papers from the folder that laid on it. For the next hour or so, I sat there answering questions on the work sheets. When I finished, I notice I never wrote my name on any of the papers.

I had to write Jashawn like forty times.