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Remember that one time in high school when you got in trouble because the teacher judged what happened just by what they saw instead of what actually happened? Happens to me all the time. This is not a true story, but some of the material is taken from personal experiences I've had.


Submitted:Jun 2, 2014    Reads: 27    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


I came around the corner, and I saw it. My best friend, they had him pinned in the corner, the bullies, or, the faggots, as I like to call them. There was blood on his face. The hallway was filled with the popular students, and they were cheering. Let me repeat that, CHEERING. Nobody was helping. My friend was socially awkward, and everybody hated him for it. It bugged me very much. But now, now I'm pissed off. I slammed my textbook on the ground, and it made a big noise.

"ENOUGH!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. The hallway went silent, all eyes were on me. The faggots stopped and then circled me like vultures. I tensed up, I hadn't thought of what to do after this. Now what do I do?

"What's your problem, dickhead?" said the leader. Dickhead? Who's he calling a dickhead?

"What you're doing is wrong." was all I managed to get out. They laughed, and my rage grew.

"How is it wrong?" asked the leader.

"Why are you doing this? What did he do to deserve this?"

"Because he's a homo, and homos need to be beaten straight." My rage was now at its maximum level. Now I knew what I had to do.

"Oh yeah? Well let me tell you something, asshole. I'm a homo, too." They came in closer, capturing me.

"Really?" He quickly reached out with his right arm and grabbed my shirt collar. "Well, let me tell you something, we're gonna mess you up bad, boy." He went to punch me, my hand came up and I grabbed his fist, stopping him. I quickly punched him with my other hand. He released his grip on me. I punched the one at my direct right, then my direct left. There was an open gap in the cage, and I just barely managed to slip out, but now I was trapped against the wall.

One of them charged me, but I brought my right leg up, driving my foot into his gut. There was a smaller one to my right. I dived at him, knocking him flat. I quickly got to my feet and attempted to punch the one closest to me, but he grabbed my arm. I brought my knee up, hitting him in the ribs, I think I broke a couple of them. The next one tried to kick me, I grabbed his leg and kicked him in the groin. I saw a fist to my immediate right, and it hit me square in the face. I instantly saw stars, but I quickly shook it off. He tried to punch me again and I brought my arm up, stopping him. I quickly crouched and punched him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, causing him to fall to his knees. I grabbed his shirt collar and slammed my fist down on the top of his head.

The three that were left just stood there, trying to think what to do next. Before they could do anything, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my pocket knife. The minute they saw it, one of them ran down the hallway in fear. The biggest of the two came at me, and I jumped out of the way just in time, swinging my knife down as I did this, which cut him on the arm. He screamed really loudly, and I slammed his head into the lockers beside us just to get him to shut up.

In the confusion, I never noticed the other fag coming behind me. He hammered me hard in the back with his shoulder, which sent me flying forward, and sent my knife flying out of my hand. I tried to get up quickly, but the blow I had just taken hurt like hell. I then felt him grab my hood and jerk on it, that didn't feel very good. I used my right arm to reach behind me, grab his arm, and pull myself up. I turned around, gave him a nasty left hook, following through all the way, which then allowed me to hit him in the face with my elbow. I used my left arm to hold down his own arms so I could give him a wicked right. He dropped like a ton of bricks. I took a minute to get a hold of myself and get my knife back. I looked around me to see all of the observers of the fight still watching me.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" came a voice from behind me. I whipped around to see the principal. He looked around at the bodies on the floor. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and put my knife back in my pocket.

"I just did your job for you." I said. "You're welcome." He stared at me for a long time. Then he saw my friend. And he put two and two together… and got 5.

"Come with me." he said in an angry tone. I hesitated for a moment before following him, but I went all the same. He led me into his office. "Sit down!" he ordered. I sat in the chair in front of his desk. He closed the door rather hard and sat down at his desk. "Now, do you want to explain why you did what you did?" What is he talking about? What does he mean?

"I was protecting my best friend. They were beating him up. I couldn't just stand there and let them continue to do that."

"So you just went ahead and beat them senseless? One person even told me yoy cut one of them with a knife." I was now getting seriously annoyed.

"That was in self defense."

"You could've killed somebody."

"I didn't intend to kill anybody, it was just for the sake of scaring them. They were beating him to a pulp. They could've killed him. All because they thought he was gay."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe he was gay?"

"Oh my GOD, that's not the point, you discriminating bastard. The point is that my friend just about freaking died. Those assholes have been harassing him for a really long time, and giving them a detention won't do a damn thing. Someone had to take action, so I did."

"But was beating them up really necessary?"

"Holy crap, is he serious right now?" I thought. "Of course it was necessary." I said. "They needed to feel the pain they were inflicting in my friend and in me." He just sat there. Thinking for a long while. He then took out a pen and wrote something in his book. When he was finished, he said; "There we are, a three day suspension and a weeks worth of detention."

'What?'

"For who?"

"For you." It took me a minute to process this.

"What about them?"

"Oh, why would they need a detention?" Okay, now I'm pissed off again. I slammed my hands down on the arms of the chair as hard as I could.

"YOU KNOW WHAT?" I yelled. "YOU CAN SHOVE THAT DETENTION SLIP UP YOUR ASS, BECAUSE I AINT SERVING IT!" I turned and walked out the door. "GOOD DAY, SIR!"

"Hey, I'm not done with you yet!" he yelled from the office. I walked back, held my middle finger up to him, and walked away. He came out of his office.

"DO YOU WANT TO BE EXPELLED FROM THIS SCHOOL?!" I gave him the finger again. I walked down the hall to where the lockers were, and I saw it happening again. Only this time, my fear was real. My friend was on the floor, and he was dead. The faggots were standing above him, there was blood all around him, everybody was staring, laughing. Laughing! My desire to fight was now at its peak once again. I grabbed a textbook from the person beside me. I ran towards the group and went for the one closest to me. He turned around just in time to see the textbook break his nose. The laughter stopped, and the rest of them backed against the wall. They were frightened of me.

"NOT AGAIN!" said the principal from behind me. "Why do you persist to cause trouble?"

'You've got to be freaking kidding me!'

"Take a good look at the trouble these dumbasses caused." I pointed at my friend on the floor. He stared at it for a very long time. Finally, he spoke.

"ALL OF YOU, GET TO MY OFFICE! RIGHT NOW!" He turned to me. "You, you're expelled! Get out!" He started walking down the hallway.

'Expelled?' I thought. 'What for? What did I do wrong? I avenged my friend!' Now, I'm more than pissed off, I'm in a whole new dimension of pissed off that I've never been in before in my life. I let out a cry of rage and ran towards him. He turned around and I swung the textbook up, hitting him in the chin. He flew backwards, and his jaw landed on the corner of a bench, dislocating it entirely. He got up on his hands and knees, and I ran and kicked him in the gut. He rolled onto his back. I stood above him and slammed my foot down on his head repeatedly, breaking his skull. Eventually, his body gave out.

Now I realize what I've done. I killed him. In my fit of rage, I killed him. I take a moment to think about what I've done. 'Now what do I do? I've just murdered another person. No, no he deserved it, it may be wrong for me to be thinking that, but I don't care. My friend is dead, and I have done something about it. I could do more, but I can't.' I ran for the door and went outside, and I ran faster than ever down the street, out of town. But… Now what? I never thought about what to do after this point. Now what do I do?





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