“Maybe he’s using you as his role model,” I said. I couldn’t help but speak up. David was visibly upset and this was obviously a daily occurrence. No sooner had the words escaped my mouth then the class fell silent. The lad looked at me; a look of hatred in his blue eyes.
“Fuck you say?”
“Well I too was wondering how he’s as gay as he is…The way he so expertly sucks cocks…The only way I can see someone his age, being so great at swallowing spunk, is if he had a role model. I look around here and the only possibility is you and your bum-chum friends.”
“Who the fuck are you anyway?”
“You don’t recognise me? I’m the one who was fucking your mother late last night…Could have sworn I saw you hiding in the cupboard tugging yourself off at the sight of my fine ass and your mum’s pert breasts.”
The lad stood up and started to walk over to me. I think it’s fair to say we’re never likely to be friends even though most of the other classmates were finding me hysterical.
“Take your seats!” shouted a female voice from the front of the classroom. I looked around and saw a pretty female teacher. I think it’s fair to say she couldn’t have timed that better if she had tried.
I turned my back on the lad. He wasn’t going to try anything with the teacher there. Who knows, maybe he’ll have a chance to calm down during this lesson? Don’t really care either way. Bullies like him…They’re all talk. I’ve met his kind before. I shot David a quick look and smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling back. He almost looked apologetic.
I recalled seeing that expression on David’s face the first day when I had stood up for him. He looked sorry for thinking he had got me involved in his troubles. I want to tell him this isn’t his fault. I want to tell him that they had brought it upon themselves. I want to tell him but I don’t. I turned back to the rest of the class. They all look worried. No doubt they’re wishing I had called their names out too. Give them a way out. Looking around at the remaining classmates, I didn’t realise there were so many who had wronged me. I can’t help but think it would have been better picking a double lesson to do this. Where to start? Where to start? Given the fact I might not get to everyone…Only one place to start really…
As another fist connected to my already bloodied nose, I couldn’t help but think — through the intense pain flowing through my body — day two was already worse than day one.
I dropped to my knees, on the bathroom floor, and tried to focus my vision. I could hear David screaming from the far side of the room as he was receiving the same treatment. My blurred vision snapped back to the best focus it was able to…Just in time to see Piers, the lad who I had had a run in on day one, spit at me.
“Not such a smart-arse now are you?”
I wish I could come back with a witty retort but my brain is telling me I’ve taken enough of a beating for today. Another fist to the face floored me. I didn’t move. I just laid there on the tiled floor, near the puddles of piss by the urinal, wishing for it to end. At least I think that’s what I am thinking about. So many thoughts buzzing through my brain that it’s hard to make sense of many of them. Another fist flew towards my face in a blurred motion. This will hurt…
By the time I could hear my thoughts clear enough to make sense of them, they were being drowned out by the sound of David’s voice. He was crying. My eyes focused on my surroundings. Still on the toilet floor, the stench of stale urine filling one of my nostrils. My other nostril blocked with blood. Every part of me aches.
“I’m sorry,” said David again. He helped me to my feet. He looked just as battered as I did although, I think it’s fair to say, I took the brunt of it. Probably deserved after sticking up for him yesterday.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” I said. Even my voice sounded broken. “Besides,” I lied, “I quite enjoyed that.” Not sure why I do that, trying to put a brave face on and all that. Not the first time I’ve used that as a defense mechanism for when I’m in agonising pain.
“If you hadn’t stuck up for me yesterday,” he started to say…
“I wouldn’t have been much of a friend,” I interrupted. Even had I known the beating I was to endure, I still would have spoken up yesterday. I hate bullies. They’re nothing more than cowards hiding behind their little friends. Normally picking on the weaker people just to try and make themselves feel better about their own miserable lives. Fuck them. We both looked at ourselves in the mirror. “Remember…” I said, “…The first rule of Fight Club is…Don’t talk about Fight Club.” David laughed and suddenly grabbed his jaw as a bolt of pain shot through him.
Surely Day Three will be easier.
4
I think I’d make a good teacher. I believe I have the voice for it. The right amount of authority in my tone.
“Piers,” I said, using my teacher’s tone, “step forward.” If time is lacking, for my lesson, I’d best start with the main culprit. The one who has constantly been nasty. Seeing what I do to him…That might just be enough for the others to learn by, if I don’t have the time to get to them. Piers didn’t move from his seat; his usual place in the back of the classroom. Was he really going to make me repeat myself? “I’m sorry,” I continued, “maybe you didn’t hear me all the way back there.” I turned to Mrs Price, “Do you often struggle with students at the back not hearing you properly?” She didn’t answer either. Can’t help but think that’s a little rude. It was a civil enough question, I feel. I’ll come back to her later. I turned my attention back to Piers. Just looking at his face makes me feel sick. Memories of what he’s put me through. I’m sure David must feel the same too. “Piers, don’t make me ask again.”
“Fuck you,” he spat from the area he foolishly perceived as being ‘safe’ at the back of the room. Little boy obviously doesn’t appreciate how far bullets can fly. The rest of the class, especially those who sat in close proximity, weren’t as foolish as a clear gap appeared between me and Piers. I took the gun up from where it rested, close to me, on the table and pointed it directly at Piers. “You won’t shoot me,” he said. Damn, he’s clever. Shooting him will be too easy.
“You’re right,” I lowered the gun.
“You’re a fucking pussy,” Piers hissed. His voice so full of venom towards me. How did someone so young get so much hatred inside of them? I blame the parents. I stood up and walked down the aisle of wooden desks and chairs to where Piers sat.
“I forgot,” I said, “you’re the big man aren’t you? You’re the one people should be afraid of. You’re the one who calls the shots and controls the classrooms and corridors…Those who don’t like you, or follow you, you set about destroying…You and your little gang. You think you’re something special…You really do, don’t you?” He leaned back on his chair so that he was resting on the back two legs of the chair only; the front legs completely clear of the floor. A defiant expression on his face. I smiled at him. I have to say, had the situation been reversed…Had he been the one with the gun pointed at me. I’d have been trembling. I’d have done anything he asked to save myself from getting shot. Is he brave or mentally retarded? “Well, I guess we can come back to you…You know…When you’re ready to come forward,” I said.
“Long wait,” he muttered. A cocky glance to his surrounding friends. Little show-off.
“Well — long enough for you to start feeling better,” I said. His defiant expression turned to one of confusion. I flashed him a smile and then hit him in the face with the butt of the handgun. His nose cracked and split open as blood immediately gushed over the table he sat at. One of his friends, a dark haired jock to the left of me, made a move as though to take me on; a move which stopped when he came face to face with the barrel of the gun. “Be smart,” I whispered. I backed away from them…Back towards the front of the class…Back to where I could see everyone.