All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
In the very last stall, he sat in the bathroom eating his lunch. His name was Samuel, and this was his routine every single day. Lunch was the only time of the day when he could almost escape from everyone.
“Ready or not, here I come,” said a deep, manly voice followed by cruel laughter. Samuel’s stomach plunged to his feet, and he immediately broke into a cold sweat. He sat in the stall slightly shaking and holding his breath. He heard that voice everyday. The voice that taunted him, the voice that he hated.
Samuel wasn’t the most popular guy around. He was brutally harassed everyday by the basketball team. He never understood why because he never did anything to them He didn’t deserve all of this. All of the torture was led by the ring leader, Braxton Dean. Braxton was tall and lean, with large biceps, and a mean face. Samuel hated Braxton, but what could he do about it? He never said one word while they pushed him around like their own personal rag doll.
He heard the footsteps and chuckles of several of the basketball guys approaching his stall. Sounds that were all too familiar.
“Hahaha, hiding in the bathroom Sammy Boy? Why would you do that?” Samuel cringed at the sound of Braxton’s antagonizing voice.
At that moment, Braxton kicked open the stall door with force that blew back Samuel’s long tangled hair. Without thinking, he tried to make a break for it only to be restrained by one of Braxton’s followers.
“You’re not going anywhere, queer!”
Samuel didn’t say a word, he barely made any effort to struggle as they held his head underwater and flushed.
This kind of stuff happened a lot. They always came up with cruel and unusual tactics to torture him. Being the scrawny, lifeless looking boy that he was, he had no means of defending himself. He even tried to once, but that resulted in a bloody nose and a fracture rib. So, now he just takes the heat. Everyday.
After attempting to dry his hair under the hand dryer, he headed to his Physics class. The class he dreaded most. It was just his luck that Braxton sat behind him in this class. He suffered everyday from from flicks to the back of his head and words said to belittle him whispered in his ear.
But today, today was a bit different. The teacher left the room for a great deal of time this period. Braxton got out of his seat and stood in front of Samuel’s desk. Samuel avoided eye contact and stared straight ahead, looking at all the complex equations written on the chalkboard. A blank stare. He thought about how his life was just like a complex equation. Without anymore than a chuckle, Braxton threw all of Samuel’s books to the floor. Samuel’s blood was boiling, but he did and said nothing. Braxton usually never did this kind of stuff inside of the classroom, so this was fairly new. Samuel didn’t really know what to expect.
“Hey f**, aren’t you gonna pick those up?”
Samuel’s head was spinning. He could barely control his own thoughts, and before he knew it he couldn’t control his own words. Before he could stop himself he spit out, “Why don’t you?”
Braxton raised one eyebrow in surprise. Samuel never spoke back, and he wasn’t going to let him start now. Without a word, he tipped Samuel’s desk over with one fluent, forceful motion. The whole classroom gasped in unison. Samuel’s head hit the hard tile floor with a loud crack. Braxton simply walked back to his desk and sat down.
There was blood, not a lot of blood, but there was blood. Samuel was overwhelmingly dizzy, but he was still conscious. He was enraged. He lied there consumed in anger, thinking about nothing but how much he loathed Braxton Dean. He hated everything about him. His voice, his face, everything. Braxton had finally pushed him over the edge. He was so engaged in his fury he didn’t notice the circle of his peers standing around him.
“Oh my God! What happened here?!” shrieked the teacher as she re-entered the classroom. “Someone get Samuel to the office immediately!”
“It just happened so fast, we were all in shock”, Braxton lied through his teeth. He was an excellent storyteller. No one ever tried to bust him though. Braxton was too powerful, and not a soul around would dream of ending up on his list.
“He had dropped his books off his desk and when he went to reach for them, his desk tipped over. I guess he just leaned too far and before anyone could stop it, he had already hit the floor.”
“The teacher, of course, bought in to every word he said because nobody went against what he told her. No one ever went against anything he ever said. No one ever spoke up.
* * *
Samuel was okay for the most part. He only had a harmless concussion. He also had an idea. A plan, revenge. He wasn’t going to put up the taunting and the torture ever again. He would make sure of it.
See, Samuel was good at a lot things, things that people never knew about. One of those things being cars. He really liked working on old cars that his dad had. It kept his mind off of all the other things in his life.
Samuel rode his bike all the way to the school with a bag full of things that he needed. He had an adrenaline rush so strong he was oblivious to the three degree air around him. The roads were pretty icy, but he managed to reach his destination without any complications.
Braxton was at basketball practice and his truck was in the parking lot. It was a rather large truck with his name on the license plates, so it wasn’t hard for Samuel to find. He did what he needed to do and he was on his way.
When he got home he turned on the T.V. and sat down. He watched television until the ten o’clock news came on.
“Breaking news, student Braxton Dean was pronounced dead after his truck was found completely wrapped around a tree of the side of Willshire Road. He was believed to be going twice the speed limit when he slid on a patch of black ice. There will be an investigation on Dean’s truck due to witness reports of the distance the truck covered without any sign of slowing down. Witnesses said that he should have had plenty of time to slow down and avoid the collision. There will be further updates from the investigation at a later time.”
Samuel turned off the television and smiled to himself, because he was proud to know that he took the brakes from Braxton’s truck.