How I Killed The Andersons

David Anderson

"i barely feel a smile deep inside me"

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I turn onto Centre Street, the same street my school is on. Looking down the sidewalk towards the school, I can see a few teenagers from around the neighborhood walking the same direction as me. My town's very small, about 6000 people. The Northeast side is known greatly for their high-to-middle class, and often elderly inhabitants. They're also known for the Castleton Croquet Team, the area's fanciest private school; Trinity College Institution, and for their broad taste in expensive seafoods and wines. I live in the Southwest side of Castleton, where all the low class teenagers, parents who rely on welfare, and were the lowest of people live. We're known for the abundance of drugs, alcohol, and teenagers who like to party until three in the morning throughout the weekdays. We also have the highest crime rate in a 500 km radius. Go us.

I continue down the sidewalk and finally, my school's in sight. I check my phone and step out of the way of an oncoming biker. The screen reads 7:57. I rub my eyes in exasperation, and wearily stagger to my horrendous hell that is my school. Reaching the steps, I step up hesitantly and push open the heavy doors. Stepping into my school you can really feel the disappointment. All the half-assed banners posted up on the walls by the Student Government and Anti-Bullying committee. All the scattered paper and waste due to the lack of janitorial staff. And of course all the shitty students, like the math nerds, the top-shit AAA hockey players, the tech hall kids who all smoke and think they're cool, the preps, and then there's me.

It's almost stereotypical, and come to think about it, that's the best way to describe my school. It sucks too, I don't fit in at all. We have 400 students in my school and all of them either don't know I exist, hate me, or know of me and just don't care.

My train of thought is interrupted by the loud footsteps coming from behind me. Immediately knowing who it is, I try to run forward and into sight of a teacher or anywhere even relatively safe, but he lunges into me and grasps my shoulders with a killer grip. Violently spinning me around, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for today's daily dose of torture. David Anderson.

To put it lightly, David is the worst possible thing multiplied by cancer. Yeah, he's that bad. He's probably the biggest known bully in our school, and he really likes to target me. He's a product of his dad beating the shit out of him, trying to make him tougher to get scouted for hockey someday. In grade nine I felt sorry for him, and when it set in that the same thing happened to me and I'm nothing like him, the feelings were lost. He's bullied me, embarrassed me, and abused me for the last 4 years of high school. He's always been able to make my high school experience terrible. Every time I see that long dark hair or scruffy face in the halls I immediately feel the urge to stab him. I'd never actually do it though.

The only good part about David is his identical twin Michael. Michael is the nicest guy I've ever met. He's got the same 6'1" muscular build as David, but instead uses it to volunteer, and help people, instead of making them suicidal and on edge all the time. Michael's smart too. He has all 90's in his classes so far, and had top university math, chemistry, and healthcare mark in our school last year. Other than the obvious personality differences, the only physical difference between the Anderson's is their eye colour. Michael has blue eyes, like his mother, and David has green eyes like his hard ass father.

David releases my shoulders and grabs ahold of my hood. He shuffles behind me, and with a quick jerk downwards, I fall to the floor.

"Did I do that? I'm sorry Danny need help up?" He smirks and yanks me to my feet. I fall a bit and grab my sweater to get it off my throat. Taking in a quick breath, I release my sweater and tell him off.

"David, let go of me."

"Or what, faggot"

"Let me go. Now." He looks me in the eyes.

"I see you've already cried today. Someone beat me to it? I better step up my game, huh?" He let's go of me and shoves me, hard, into a set of pale lockers on the wall. I wince in pain, and he laughs and walks off.

"See you later bitch!" He shouts across the hall at me while high-fiving his buddies in approval. He walks off and I slide down to the floor. I put in an earphone and put on Keaton Henson. I put my head down, and wait for the first bell. What a lovely life I have. Fuckin' lovely.