I rode the bus every day to school. I'm not familiar with the roads, but I remember the land marks the bus passes. The park, the gas station, the boarded up house with burn marks on the windows and chimney. Today as the bus speeds pass, I can't help but say goodbye to these places. They were the only constant thing in my life. They never changed or never left me. Today I'm leaving them. I continue to feel the lump in my bag and make sure everything is in order. The plan is memorized and everyone is unsuspecting. The bus halts to a stop in front of the large brown and blue colored building. I stand and carefully pull my bag around my back and step off the bus stairs behind everyone else.

The herd of teenagers formed a wall between me and the entrance to the school, as they do every day. Standing a few feet behind this wall, I waited for them to pour into the building like water through a funnel. I stare at the floor to avoid any conversation that might be sparked by sudden accidental eye contact.

As I slowly progress into the doors of the building, I remember my mother this morning. I had to wake her up from the couch and tell her I loved her, only to be met with her strong and flammable breath caused by a night of drinking. I hugged her anyway, I told her I loved her not expecting a response. She nodded and fell straight back into her trance. That was when I slipped into her closet and took the 22 pistol from it's hiding spot in a cobweb covered shoe box.

It was just me and her ever since my dad left. I looked like him. golden blonde hair and brown eyes with a dark ring around them, like I never slept a day in my life. At least from the pictures mom showed me, the only difference was he had a strong beard that reached the bottom of his chest.

As I'm retracing my morning 'farewell' to my mother and home, I heard a rumbling from a near trash can. I leaned close to peer in, only to be met with a shrill growl. I ducked to the side of the trash can and leaned in closer. Suddenly something wrapped around the back of my head, slamming my face into the garbage can. I panicked and leaned backwards landing hard on my backpack.

"Oh shit dude, I think you spooked the retard!" I heard the laughing voice, followed by more laughter. I looked up from the trash can and saw who was speaking.

"Is that right? Is piss pants Patricks afraid of me?" Two large guys, upper class men of course, stood above me. Suddenly I understood what had happened.

"Fuck off Reggie!" I shouted, voice cracking pathetically. Reggie Starks was the asshole king of our high school.

"Awe your hurting my feelings." Reggie placed his palm on his chest dramatically, frowning like he was about to cry.

"Cmon Reg, kick his ass!" A voice shouted from behind.

"Hang on my phones not working! Someone record this!" Another begged. Reggie turned to face the crowd that had watched us from the entrance and bowed like a broadway actor. He turned back to me grinning his slime ridden smile.

"Gotta give the people what they want Patrick's, you know how it is?" Before I could respond, he flung his foot up into my cheek. I spun onto my stomach from the kick. Before I could even face him, he began stomping my back and kicking my sides. I wrapped my arms around my head and tried to drown out the rising chants of those who were watching. After a few hard kicks to my ribs, he stopped. I felt a hand grab my shoulder and spin me around, suddenly I was sitting up. The same hand grabbed mine and pulled me to my feet.

"What the hell were you two doing? There's no fighting in my school!" My eyes adjusted to see the big, balding mans face. The man grabbed my arm and Reggie's then suddenly we were being yanked through the crowd of cheering teenagers. Cheering for Reggie. Cheering for my possible demise. I was able to hold on to my bag luckily. We were pulled into a smaller room with a doorway that led to a back hallway. The hallway was carped and looked nice. A desk blocked the opening where a lady sat there, flipping through endless folders.

"Good morning miss Freda. Where might I find Principle Charles?" The large man seemed out of breath from dragging us down the hallway.

"He's in his office, you can go right in Coach Louis." The man nodded and proceeded to drag us around the desk and down the soft carpeted hallway. He pulled us hard into a room on the left. The Office had a desk in the center with walls lined with cabinets. Small figurines and pictures sat on the desk and cabinets. We sat down in front of the desk. Coach began spitting his wisdom at us, telling us how old we were and what not. I held my side where Reggie kicked me and felt for a lump or something to indicate a broken rib. The pain throbbed and stung. I looked at Reggie who looked bored, nodding at everything the Coach said. The yelling stopped and a short man walked in. Principle Charles was always a laid back man when it came to punishing upper class men and loved scaring lower ones. He shook his head and sat in his low chair behind the desk.

"Cmon Reg your better than this. I mean its morning man, don't you have anything better to be doing?" He started before even seeing me.

"He was fighting with Mr. Patrick's here." Louis said, eyes locked on me.

"Seriously Reggie? You can't be fighting with the ball game coming up. Our school depends on you man, try not to look like an idiot, please?" Reggie nodded in response.

"Yes sir. Won't happen again sir." The principle gestures for Reggie to leave. Reggie pushes past the coach and snickered. The principle turned to me sighing.

"I'm thinking... how's 4 days of detention sound? Be honest with me." I stared at the man in front of me, shocked by his request.

"I haven't done anything."

"I saw you try to throw a punch at Reggie, do not lie." The coach quickly jumped in.

"Seriously, 4 days is all. Sound good to you?" He repeated.

"I didn't throw a punch! I was laying on my stomach being beaten!" I argued with the coach.

"Alright how about 7 days? A full week sound good?." Said Principle Charles halting the coach from saying anything further. I shook my head, and verbally agreed. He handed me a form with my name on it. Hunter Patricks. "Now please don't return to my office. Your nearly late for your first class." The principle said humoring himself. I picked up my bag and walked out quickly, trying not to look at either of their eyes.