Enemies In The Snow

January 17, 2009
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A light snow started to fall on Schwartz Elementary school. It was early December, and winters was beginning to take hold on the town that the school was built on. The light snow started to loosely pack itself on the ground, the waning sun was make the snow glisten. It was indeed winter.

Currently, Schwartz Elementary was in session, but the school day was almost over; it would only be mere seconds before the school bell would let its shrill voice cry out, announcing another end to a long day. The bell rang. Students literally burst out of the two solid oak doors that made the entrance to the school, the children were more than eager to escape the legal torture they were forced to endure. They came as a roaring stampede of cattle from the school, the youth were excited, they would get to play in the snow.

But there was one who was not overflowing with excitement. There was one in the midst of the stampede who was not unnatural enthused. This one was a boy. His name was Randall Clay, he was the age of ten, he was in the fifth grade. To his family he went simply as “Randy”, and his teachers called him “Randy” as well. It seemed as if everyone liked the idea of shortening his name, Randall even favored his nickname better than his real one.

The reason why Randy was not as happy as the other kids was simple, he was a victim. He was a victim of bully’s. And the bully’s Randy faced were not as much as prone to physical attacks as they were verbal. And verbal attacks can be the deadliest things on earth. For unlike a physical wound, spiritual wounds took longer to heal; sometimes spiritual wounds never do.

Randy was not like the rest of his classmates. He was deathly thin, not because he was malnourished, but because he was just made that way. Randy was also very pale, and he sported some thick glasses which sometimes slipped down his nose, due to their massive size. Randy was a little shorter then most kids, and to add on, he had a mop of hair that looked like dirty mop water.

But aside from his physical features, Randy also had a slight stuttering problem that loved to kick in when he was caught in a situation that made him nervous. Randy was a smart kid, but his appearance scared off kids a little, if he was given a chance, Randy would have a friend.

It was because of these qualities, and the fact that he was poor, that the bully’s targeted him out. He was a victim they could prey upon that would not bite back at them. Randy was a victim of bullying, and it had affected him deeply.

His tormentors, a kid named Mike, and a taller boy named Nick loved to make him miserable. They took everything about him, and fired it at him with a razor-sharp insult. Mike usually made fun of Randy’s ratty clothes, and oversized shoes. Nick would mostly poke at Randy’s stature, glasses, and thinness. And sometimes, the two would team up and gang up on Randy, push him around a little bit, and call him viscous names. They would do other horrible acts; acts that would torture Randy so much that he would cry silently, wishing that he were just dead, nonexistent, somewhere far away from the hell he’d visited everyday called Schwartz Elementary.

On that day, as the bell rang, and Randy was starting off on his walk towards his house, Randy was followed. He was followed by none other than Mike and Nick. He was in for another torture session.

Randy walked on the snow covered sidewalk with his head down, looking glum, and depressed. He knew what was coming. He could hear Mike and Nick’s cackling voices as clear as a bell. Randy sighed, why him? Why did they always choose him to do their nasty bullying on? Why?

Randy thought he knew the answer, he thought he was cursed. Why shouldn’t he think it? He dared someone to tell him why. He walked with a pickup in his pace, he would not go through with this today, he would not let them torment him. Not today, for today was different, today he was sick of it. All of this bullying had been building up in Randy’s soul, it had been building up high, it was now to the point if Randy received any more of it, he would burst.

Randy went faster. He would get out of their distance, he would not let them begin their bullying, he would not let them. He went even faster.

Randy’s head was no longer bent down, it was level, looking ahead. It was in this that Randy did not see the small patch of ice that lay ahead of him. He took a step with his right foot, that foot slipped on the ice, this made him tumble backwards on the sidewalk harshly.

Randy groaned. Great, he thought. This is great, this will surely give something for Mike and Nick to rave about.

Randy was right. He could hear their laughter already.

Randy tried to rise up from his position, but from some newly acquired pain, Randy could not get up. Their heavy steps came closer.

Randy stared up straight up at the sky, but his view was blotted, by Mike, and by Nick. They were looking down on him; both had a wide grin slapped on their faces.

“Well what do we got here?” Mike sneered.

“Looks like we got ourselves a fallen four eyes.” Nick observed.

“What are we going to do with it?” Mike asked.

“Let’s help it up,”said Nick, now outstretching his glove coated hand to Randy.

Randy doubted that Nick would actually help him up, but the ice was starting to freeze his butt off, so he grasped Nicks hand for support.

With a hearty grunt, Nick started to pull Randy off the ground. When Randy was halfway up, Nick suddenly let go of him, making Randy fall back onto the ground again. Then, they began to laugh.

While they laughed, Randy’s pain went to anger, then his anger turned into hate— a seething hate. Randy began to hate them. Everything they had done to him, their bullying, their poking, their prying, all of it became a hot, blasting furnace inside of Randy, he would not let them continue it.

“Faggot!” Yelled Nick in an evil glee. “You fell for it.”

The two looked serious for a moment, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Randy was seeing red. If he could find the strength to get up, they would swallow their laughter, they would regret ever meeting him.

“Here,” said Nick in a giggling voice, and outstretching his hand again. “Let me help you up again.”

Randy grabbed his hand. But this time, Randy pulled. With all of the strength that resided in his tiny frame, he pulled Nick down to the ground with him. Nick lay there, in shock, how could this boy do what he just did?

But Nicks momentary state of shock gave Randy the perfect opportunity, with a heave, Randy rolled upon Nick and began punching him.

He started punching Nick everywhere he could. He punched him in the face, in the gut, in the neck, everywhere he could. Nick had a look of surprise chiseled in his face as Randy delivered his blows. But then Nick snapped out of it, and began to fight back,(well more like he simply pushed Randy off him.)

He then got up, and wiped off his lip, and his eyes grew big as he saw the blood smeared on his hand.

“You friggin faggot!” exclaimed Nick. “You made me bleed!”

Mike, who had watched the entire thing then said, “What are you gonna do about that Nick?”

Nick spat, the saliva that landed on the sidewalk might as well have a trace of flesh eating acid in it. “Pick him up Mike!” he ordered. “Hold his arms behind him! I’ll return what he did!”

Mike smiled his gap toothed smile, and with grace of an ox, he lifted Randy up roughly and held him as ordered, making randy open to attack.

Nick grinned at this, and cracked his knuckles. Randy let in a weary breath, he knew what was coming. A hard blow landed in Randy’s stomach, Randy tried to bend over, but Mike held him up to accept more beating.

A blow to his chin, one to his gut again, and one roundhouse to his jaw. Blood began to trickle in Randy’s mouth, despite his wriggling to get away, he stood.

Nick spat once more, this time his acidic smelling spit splattered on Randy’s face. Nick smiled again, he looked satisfied with his handiwork. He then ripped Randy’s glasses away from his face, and threw them to the ground, the lenses cracked a bit.


Nick stomped on Randy’s glasses with one hard stomp, after he did, the lenses popped out with sick ease. Not done, Nick stomped on Randy’s lenses making them break into sharp, jagged pieces. Randy’s glasses lay on the sidewalk, destroyed.

Rage came into Randy as a heavy, intruding rain. How dare he! How dare he! Randy could take the punches, and could take the insults, but not this, Nick had just crossed the line when he destroyed Randy’s glasses.

The rage took over Randy completely. The boy ripped out of Mike arms; in a flash he grabbed a jagged piece of glass from the ground, and cut upward in a smooth arc. The glass cut Nick from his left hip all the way to his right shoulder.

Nick fell almost immediately when Randy cut him. He fell, and he fell hard, with both hands grasping his body to try and stop the crimson blood that was now coming out of him. Randy dropped the glass casually, then turned to Mike, who was looking at him in shock, his face as white as a fresh linen sheet.

“Are you gonna try something?”Randy asked tiredly.

Mike looked at the bloodied glass, then his eyes shot to Randy.

“N-n-no!” Mike stammered. “I’ll leave you alone, I promise! I swear to God! J-j-just don’t cut me too!”

“I won’t,” Randy said. “Just get out of here, never talk to me again, and I won’t.”

Mike studied Randy again, then cast a glance at his bleeding buddy. After a second or two, he ran of like a frightened cat does when it gets the stuffing spooked out of it.

Randy started to leave, but felt a hand clasp onto his ankle. Randy nodded down, to see who it was. It was Nick. “You faggot!”Nick exclaimed, his face contorted with hate. “Your gonna die faggot. Oh your gonna die!” This was accompanied by a short, fruitless cackle.

Randy looked at Nick in what almost seemed to be pity. “No,” he said. “Im not gonna die Nick. Leave me alone! And if you ever do anything bad to me again, I’m not going to stand it, you’ll get whipped again like you did today.”

The grip on Randy’s ankle tightened.

Nick shot Randy a look of hatred, “I’m going to kill you faggot!” he growled. “I’m going to bash your brains in!”

Then Nick began to shake Randy’s leg violently, then tried to claw on him, but that was all he could do, for he was wounded. Randy easily shook off Nick’s hands, then began to walk away from his defeated tormentor.

“Wait!” Nick called after him. “You can’t leave me here! I’m bleeding! What are you— some kind of monster?”

Randy turned his head and replied, “No Nick, you are the monster.”

Then, Randy walked on, ignoring his enemies cries of help, threats, and offers to kill him. Randy went on, letting his enemy continue to bleed in the snow.





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FATHER CALLAHAN. said...
Feb. 17, 2009 at 10:31 pm
GRAPHIC, REALISTIC, TRAGIC. THIS STORY IS SOCIAL COMMENTARY ON TEEN VIOLENCE. SAD THING IS ITS REALITY FOR A LOT OF KIDS. YOU BSEE THIS TYPE OF THING GO ON, REPORT IT. SOMEBODY'S LIFE MAY BE AT STAKE.
 
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