J.K. Rowling. My favorite author.
My entry for Round 1. Here goes...
My lyrics: "He'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plan/He's got a rolled cigarette hanging out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid." -Pumped Up Kicks, Foster The People
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“Hey, Frenchie, you forgot your book!”
I glance up as I walk down the corridor, and see it’s the usual group of people: David, Matt, and Andy.
“Leave me alone. I have to get to class.” I keep my head down. Maybe, this time, they’ll leave me alone. Maybe I will get away this time. They drive me insane. All I ever do is pray for them to leave me alone. But each day, the torment continues.
That’s why I no longer believe in “God.”
“Aw, but Frenchie, we just wanted to say hi!” The French book slamming into my gut cuts off my "whatever" and turns it into a weird groan. The corner of the hardcover book had managed to get underneath my rib. And in no way was it at all pleasant.
“I heard you groan. Did you like that blondie?” Now it’s Andy talking, and he’s snickering at his own joke. I continue walking, avoiding eye contact. I just keep thinking to myself, this isn’t as bad as the time they beat me bloody. This time, I don’t have a black eye. This time, I don’t have a concussion. This time, I don’t have a broken wrist. This time, I am lucky.
“Don’t ignore us, you pussy!” I knew the hit was coming, but it still jolts me when his fist lands on my shoulder. For this supposedly safe campus, the jocks sure as hell get away with anything they want.
“Don’t touch me.” I shove him off, and try to get around the corner to where my class is.
“You dumbass, you can’t ignore us.“ I can hear the vainness in his voice. I can hear the hatred.
Sadly enough, I attempt to anyway.
“Hey, Frenchie, how ya doin’?”
David walks up to join Matt and Andy. The trio of my nightmares.
“Just let me get to class.”
“You dumbass, you can’t tell us what to do!”
David grabs me by my collar, and starts to force me towards the basement. The place where it all happens.
******
“We’re teaching you a lesson.”
Before I knew it, I was on the ground and Matt was videotaping while Andy was on top of me, sitting on my waist to hold me down, continuously hitting me in the face. He grabbed my hair, and slammed my head into the cold and hard cement floor. David was laughing so hard you would’ve thought something funny was actually going on. Except, to them, this was funny. They are amused by this. I lay here and take it. What am I supposed to do about it? Three football players against a guy who plays saxophone in band. The only sport I do is track. And I can’t run away when there’s 200 pounds on top of me.
Andy finally gets off of me, and lands me a hard kick in the gut. And the next thing I knew, I was puking on the floor with double vision.
*****
I walk into my house, slamming the door behind me.
“I’m home, Mom!” I call. Ya know, as if she cares.
I boot up my computer and go on Facebook. My worst mistake. The messages keep piling in.
Hey fag, get your gender change yet?
You’re so gay, why do you have a Facebook? It’s not like you have any friends anyway.
Hey Frenchie, what are you doing tonight? I can think of some activities.
What’s up, pussy. Your haircut is gay as fuck. You can’t even get some. How does that feel?
What’s up with you walking around like you own the place? Stop acting like you’re cool. Next time we’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll never get up.
The messages don’t bother me anymore. How many messages I have (you could substitute there are), that’s what gets to me. I can’t help but think, if they all agree on some level, they can’t all be wrong. They can’t all hate me for no reason. I must have done something to get treated like this.
I caused this.
I deserve it
I shut down my laptop, and go to bed to escape the pain.
The next day, I wake up, my eyes puffy. Another day of being sore. I begin to get ready. I eat my cereal. I put the bowl in the sink. The basic parts to start the day.
I start to walk towards my parents’ bedroom, and enter their closet. Perfect, it’s there. I grab it, and head to school like I always do. Except today isn’t going to be a usual day.
“Hey Frenchie, what’s up?” David heads towards me, but I grab it before he can touch me.
I grab my gun.
“You pussy, I bet that isn’t even loaded. Just put it down.” I can see the fear in his eyes. For once, I am in charge. This time, I have the power.
“You know what, no David, I don’t think I will.” I mess with the gun a bit, getting it all ready. I hold it in my hands, getting the feel of it, getting comfortable with it in my palm.
“David, you’re going to regret everything you’ve ever done to me.” I point the gun at him, and smile. That’s when the teachers come out.
“Mark, put down the gun. Just set it down.”
“Mark, get over here. Stop being foolish!”
“Mark, the police are on their way. You need to calm down, please.”
None of their words stop me. At this point, nothing can stop me. Not the growing crowd of people, not the teachers ushering them away, not the principle trying to plead with me, not the fear shining in David’s eyes.
Nothing.
I lay my finger on the trigger, and shoot David another grin. Soon enough, he’s going to know what it feels like to hurt every day. What it’s like to wake up and not want to be alive anymore.
“Mark…don’t do this, please. Mark, I’ll never talk to you again. I’ll leave you alone. Just, please, don’t.”
“So now that I have a gun, I’m no longer Frenchie? No longer a pussy? David, it’s all too late now. It’s always gonna be too late.”
I take the gun, I close my eyes, and at the last moment I whip my arm around, pointing the gun at my own temple.
I’m done.
I pull the trigger.
