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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1834338-Story-of-Scott
by Zen
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Death · #1834338
The story of a sad boy
“Scott! Get up!” I open my eyes and the first wonderful thing I see is my mom, Carla, and the back of her hand as it smacks me across the face.
“Ouch! What was that for?” I yelled. I sat up from my space on the floor rubbing my cheek. Carla stood over me glaring.
“I told you to get up! Where's your wallet?” She said angrily. “I need all the money you have. This guy wasn't cheap.”
I got up from the wood floor disgusted by the thought. “What happened to the money you got last night?” I said while pulling out my wallet and handing her everything inside. The room was dark but it still didn't help to block out how gross she looked that morning.
She looked at me with a hating look. “Someone has to pay the bills, don't they?”
“Yea”, I said “And that would be me.” That was a mistake, I knew that. But I couldn't help saying it. Before I knew it I was getting smacked across the face and falling to the ground. I really didn't feel to much as she kicked me, but I put on the show so it wouldn't get any worse.
“I gave you life so no matter how much money you give me you will always owe me! Get to school.” She said angry still. “If the teachers ask why you're wearing those clothes again tell them the washer is broken and those are the cleanest you have.” She left the room with those words.
I got up with pain in my cheek and my sides. I pushed away the anger until I felt nothing. Not even sadness. By then I was at school, waiting outside my first hour, class. Only an hour and a half until the class started. I stared up at the walls. They were so bright. All over were posters saying things like: “Stay in school.” or “don't smoke.” But that's a high school for you. As the time passed more and more people started showing up. Which obviously meant more noise.
“John! Go long” “Jimmy did you get my text?” “I think Kevin is so cute” “Hey I got the stuff” Out of all the people there, there was no one I considered a friend. I never talked to anyone and no one really talked to me. They would just walk around me or pretend I wasn't there. I liked it better that way though. It just meant I didn't have to deal with the problems they all had.
School was the same everyday. I would go to school, go to my classes, eat the free lunch they gave me, and then finish up my classes. Today was one of the rare days it was different.
“Hey freak show! Yea I'm talking to you!” I turned around just as I was leaving to go “home”. “You didn't congratulate me on scoring the first touchdown in the game yesterday. Do it.”
I sighed slightly amused at this. “You lost the game anyway. I heard people talking about it all day today. So just shut up! I want to go home.” Apparently that guy had never been talked back to because the next thing he did was run at me as I turned around again. The fight didn't last long. Maybe a minute or two. After he hit me in the head I fell forward, angry I got up while launching myself at him. I was about an inch taller than him and just as thick. It may have seemed even but he never stood a chance. Until his friends came, that is. One random teacher came out of their room hearing the usual chant. “Fight, Fight, Fight.” And in a minute we were all separated and I was leaving the school with my new cuts and bruises ignoring the fact that the teacher and now principal were yelling after me.
I walked a couple miles up to the river that was nearby. I would usually lay there for hours, just thinking about things. But again, today was different. I walked to my usual spot hoping for some quiet. Laying there I ignored the sound of cars and yelling. Just relaxing, thinking about what would happen if I just left one day. Left to a new school, a new start, and of course no Carla.
I don't know what happened to make the wish of leaving come true, but it did. After laying there for a few hours I got up to walk home. From behind me I hear a noise like someone walking. I turn around and see two guys walking towards me. It was too dark to see there faces but I didn't like how they were both walking at me so I did the only thing I could think of. I ran. With my luck I was right. They both started chasing me and before I knew it I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. I had been stabbed. I saw the man pulling out the knife as I tripped over my feet and from the pain. The other wasn't far behind and soon caught up. When I saw their faces I knew it would end there. I looked up afraid and saw the faces of a crazy couple. The man had a smile on his face as he looked at me and licked the blood from his knife. The women was twitching and smiling giving me the feeling she enjoyed this more than the man. I tried to crawl away, screaming. “Please. Let me go.”
The man spoke back and with these words I froze. “You live your life with hate. Hahaha.”
I was still. As I lay here dying my true sadness consumes me.
© Copyright 2011 Zen (fantasy588 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1834338-Story-of-Scott