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vic•tim /'viktəm/
noun
a person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action.
//
bul•ly /'boolē/
verb
using superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.
//
1982
BOB SLAMMED ME against the locker, making my head bang against the metal. I winced in pain, but didn't make a sound. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. He's just still pissed off that I chose to be a greaser.
Bob Sheldon had the biggest crush on me. Well, that was until I told him I was a greaser and said I'd rather date a tree the rest of my life than get with him.
Can you blame me though?
"Since you're a greaser I should just go rub your face into some dirt." Bob sneered as he got close up to my face.
I scoffed. "Yeah and since you're a Soc I should bow down to you."
"Wait, what?" He asked, confused.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we were saying things that didn't make any sense." I sassed and pushed Bob off of me, making him crash into a few Soc girls who gave me dirty looks. I threw a fake smile at them and flipped them off.
Bob was fuming now, and I gulped. Nobody was in the hallway now and it was just him and me. He gave me a devilish smirk and started walking towards me slowly. I tried running away, but he grabbed me by the collar and threw me into the ground, causing me to groan in pain. He laughed in satisfaction and started walking towards me again.
Someone please save me.
He picked me up and got behind me, getting real close to my ear. "If only you were a Soc, but no, you chose to be a poor ugly ole' greaser. The consequences are tough, huh?" He whispered, making chills go down my back. And not the good kind of chills.
"Hey, you leave her alone!" A voice shouted from behind us. A wash of relief poured over me as Bob finally walked away from me, walking towards the other person. I whipped my head around and saw a boy with bleach blonde, greased backed hair.
[I'm making Ponyhave his blonde hair in this book!]
"Well, what do we have here?" Bob questioned while walking over to the bleach blonde boy. "The little hero who tries to save everyone. You can't save every single one of your greaser buddies that I pick on, alright?" He asked in an arrogant voice which made me roll my eyes in disgust.
