The Beginning

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!! Ahhh, finally, the last day of 6th grade. I pulled up my backpack. "Remember to have a good break!" Our teacher—Mrs. Clint—shouted.

Then, she looked at me in a distrustful way. She never liked me, I figured out. I thought she was mostly tired, but every time she encountered a student, for example, bully Ashley Barfait, she would smile like she was the happiest person in the world.

Lies.

When she looked at me, she always gave me a scent of bad attitude as if I was a pest.

I've gotten used to it. I think it's because I always flunked math. Last year I was saved because I got over 71% percent. I was relieved. But that wasn't my only problem. It was also my parents. At least my parents were decent.

The only reason why we were struggling was because they had a failing marriage.

My dad didn't want to divorce because he was always trying to make his friends jealous—which he always did. If you looked at my Mom, you'll think she was prettier than a sunflower.

My mother didn't want to divorce because of the money my dad made.

The most loyal to me was surprisingly my dad. He always said I'm strong and that one day, I will save the whole country. I always thought he was joking.

I always denied I could make it. But, at least it was good enough to be able to win in Ashley's fights.

By the time I entered the hall, Doug, my best friend came up to me. He was tall and looked scary, but Ashley could always make him fall apart by the time she said "how's the weather out there?" And called him the next ugly Goliath.

"I'm scared."

"For what?" I asked him, preparing for the dumbest problem.

"Do you have the answers?"

I looked at him in confusion. "What in the world are you talking about?"

He looked confused too. "I don't know, the teacher wants to make sure that we don't forget what we studied."

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a disgusted grunt instead. "Sometimes I wonder, does this teacher even like me?" I asked.

Doug was thinking pretty hard on that. He just blurted, "No."

I guess he realized too.

Doug started whimpering all of the sudden. "Are you worried about the packet?" I asked, fearfully also. "No...Ashley."

My fearfulness went to pure annoyance. That was the last person I would want to see on the last day of school.

"Hey big wimp!" Ashley shouted. I turned around and Doug was trembling inside of his shoes.

"Is it okay if you can do something with your little friend over here?"

"No, I think he's being used right now," Doug said, looking at me for hope.

"Well, either way we're doing something with him," Ashley smirked. "Hey, weren't you supposed to be checking the weather?!"

Doug started bawling and ran away. I really wish he wasn't like a crybaby. It doesn't do me any good.

Ashely's smirk went wider when she looked at me. With those blue soul-sinking eyes, with that brown hair that she tries swish to make others jealous, and those old blue overall dresses she wears with pretty high heels.

"Now, as we were saying," Ashley said. "Girls?" The girls grabbed me by the arm. I tried to kick them and I ended up hitting myself.

They took me outside where a big river was. "We always like to pests and have a little fun with ourselves," Ashley smirked. "Try walking on water, punk!"

They threw me into the water, knowing I couldn't swim! I waved my arms around trying to keep me from drowning. "Hegggghlp!" I cried, underwater.

My eyesight was going lower and lower. And then, I fainted.

^

I woke up in my parents room with a bowl by my side. "Unnnh…" I groaned.

My throat was so clogged as if I just stuffed a ball in my throat. I coughed and gagged. My mom came up to bed.

I was so happy to see her, because my thoughts were just Ashley and her foul friends.

"Honey," she said softly. "Are you feeling good?" I wanted to answer I wasn't, but I just said, "Yeah—I guess."

"I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't know they did that to you."

"What happened?"

My mom pursed her lips. "Well, your teacher Mrs. Clint found you in the water. She took you out and rushed you to the hospital."

My mom kissed me on the forehead. "All I know is that, you're okay."

That was really hard to think of, with her annoyance written all over her face. It was really touching.

My dad came into the room. "Oh, hey son. I'm sorry for what happened."

I smiled at him, since he was always very loyal. "But," my dad verbalized. "You shouldn't be pushed around by little girls!"

"Jon, you know that he's just a boy!"

"If he is a wimp now, he'll be a wimp later!"

"Just because you've been in the military, doesn't mean he has to have the same tendencies!"

My dad raised his hand up.

"Don't you dare smack me again Jon!" My heart stopped beating for a moment.

"Dad?" I asked. Dad's eyes went from anger to shame.

Mom looked at me, "No, honey. It's nothing that has to deal with—" A window shattered A bunch of shooting sounds were blaring. "What the?!" shouted Dad.

Bullets went through our house. Our plates were shattered, I screamed. A bullet hit the leg of the bed.

The bed went over and I smacked my head on the floor. I was dazed.

"Tyrant!" shouted Dad. He covered me, keeping me from being shot.

Then the door banged. I don't know who they were but they sounded German.

A group of men came in shouting in some forgein language. Mom got me and put me inside her room.

She was closing the blinds and locked the door. My face was drenched with sweat. I heard punching and kicking, and a bunch of shots.

Then as my dad shouted, someone shot their pistol. And then a thud was heard. I really was hoping for what it was, that it didn't happen. But, Mom started bawling and cried with such sadness that even you would've cried.

I knew what happened. Then a German busted in the room. He was wearing a tan tucked shirt with no sleeves. His muscles were big and muscular. He was holding a shotgun facing my mother.

My mom stuttered under her breath, closing my eyes. "Please don't...whatever you want...I-I'll give-please."

The muscular man went close (like please, personal space?!) and he spoke with his hot breath.

"So, I can take anything huh?" he said, chuckling. "Hilarious."

He grabbed me by the neck-part of my shirt. "NOO!" My mom cried. The man got his pistol and shot her. She fell lifeless, on the floor.

My heart sank, and tears went out of my eyes. "Hehh. Boy, you're coming with me," the German said.

They squished my arm so tight, they could've broke it! After they dragged me to their truck, I found myself in a mid-carriage with many people in it.

I guess they were trapped too. I really wanted to cry but my blood was too cold to even start tearing up.

"Hey you," someone said. I looked to the left side of me. It was this boy who had dirty blond hair that wasn't very long but was like mine a little bit.

"Huh," I said weakly. "Are you scared?" he asked. I didn't expect someone to talk to me and say 'are you scared.' "Y-y-yes," I stammered.

The blonde boy reached his hand and covered me. "Well, I'll make sure to always keep you safe, always."

That was the first smile I ever gave in such a situation. I covered him too knowing that we'll always be keeping each other safe, until we're free.