REASON WHY NO PENCIL

No pencil, no paper, and an unfocused mind. I am sill trembling in fear. I sit at my desk gazing into the

distance as the bitter tears flow down my bruise cheeks, remembering the pain and the agony inflicted

upon me earlier. Getting dressed this morning I could only think of the horrors awaiting me once I

arrive to my bus stop. I gather my books and school work and as i put it in my backpack a voice says

son stay out of trouble and have a great day at school, I mutter yes sir and say a silent prayer as I start

out the door. I remember that I am forgetting my lucky golden pen that has been in my family for three

decades and quicklt turn back to get it. I sluggishly walked the long and restless route to my bus stop

and waited for my evil tormenter to arrive. Suddenly, a voice calls out, “Hello,my young fellow, what

might you have for me today nerd?” I slowly turn and face the speaker, “what do you want this time?” I

ask. His greedy paws swiftly snatch my black and gray Batman backpack and empty its contents onto

the soggy ground. I stand still as he rips apart my books and papers and snaps my pencils and my lucky

golden pen. This is a routine for me so I am not as frightened by his behavior as I once was. William

Jackson, better known as “junkyard Jackson” was the bully who had been wreaking havoc on my life

for the past year and a half. Junkyard was a tall individual who was built like a professional wrestler.

Every morning he would make my life miserable. He would taunt me and on some occasions he would

destroy my school supply. This morning happened to be a special occasion. As the big blue bird bus

arrives, I pick up my backpack from the soggy ground and get on the bus, leaving behind my broken

school supply. I take my seat in the back of the bus and stare off into space the entire trip to school,

asking repeatedly why I am the victim of harassment. I walked into my English class and take my seat

as the teacher begins assigning classwork. I get up to get paper and a pencil from the supply box only

to see there is none left. I shuffle back to my seat and lay my head on my desk wondering why this is

happening to me. “Kenneth........Kenneth!!” the teacher calls as I sit there unprepared for class, but not

by choice.





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