Bully Hunter
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Teen (13-17)Transcript
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Chapter one, bystanders, the nightmare that would loom over New Heights. Middle school would arrive very soon and once it did, nothing would ever truly be the same. A hunter would be on the loose preying upon those responsible for the nightmare. New Heights middle school rested for a few 100 years in another site of Palo, a small city on the eastern sides of Florida. It stood at two stories housing hundreds of students and still layered in its old bricks from its first construction, panting and wheezing as much as his frail thin body would allow him. A young boy was running for dear life down a hall filled with students. Two of his assailants weren't far behind. The boy had sandy blonde hair and broken glasses barely held together by tape across the nose piece. Dark bruise marks consistently stayed on his face along with a notable gash across his left temple. He knew he wasn't going to make it much farther, not that he needed to. He just had to find someone anyone who could come to his aid. Perhaps a teacher, the classroom doors were still open awaiting their students to learn their lessons for the day. Just a little further. No such luck as he tried to get one last step in, the attached sole of his shoe gave out and he slipped until his face hit the tiled ground beneath him. He attempted to lift himself up and continue, but his weak constitution wouldn't allow it. He thought for a second that his legs would completely give out. Yet the nearest classroom was just within his reach. If only he could get through a door, maybe even cry out for help. He was lifted from the back of his shirt and thrown into the nearest set of lockers. His arms slung down in helpless defeat. He already knew how this was going to end like an ordinary day at work. This was like clockwork routine. He took in a resigned breath and waited. Several witnesses turned at the sound of him colliding with the locker. They stared in apathy as his assailants closed the gap, the bystanders simply chose to back away refusing to involve themselves in this matter. It wasn't their problem as far as they were concerned. Only a select few watched excitedly like a sports fan watching a football game. The boy's assailants spun him around, gripping him was a more muscular boy with a biker like bandana round his head and a sleeveless vest as his grip tightened the bones in his fingers gave an audible pop behind him was a smaller boy with a shaved head before focusing on his prey. He looked up over the muscular boy to see an American flag hanging over their heads. He straightened up and gave an appropriate salute and they weren't the only two threats. A third had caught up after seeing them from down the end of the hall. He was taller than the boy with a shaved head by a mere inch and had curly red hair with freckles. He panted as he struggled to catch up, Wilbert, the boy with the red hair, struggled to breathe, giving his attention to the one with the shaved head. You have to slow down. I can't keep up with you guys. Rupert grinned. Guess you'd better do some workouts. Then you could stand to be more like Nate. Here, he pointed with his thumb to the muscular boy back to our issue. We heard what you said about us the other day, Jimmy. He said as he approached the boy with the glasses even worse is that you said it behind our backs. He leaned into James's face. You should have had the courage to say it to our faces. What he say about me asked Nate, I'm not sure said Rupert. I didn't catch that part. He took James's glasses and tossed them aside. Let's make this quick, Nate wincing James shut his eyes and awaited the inevitable. This was going to hurt. It always did never once failed to leave a bruise. Even after the many times he'd been through this. His body never failed to tremble at this. Nate, eagerly ready to fist from one hand and popped the bones of his fingers. True that this one was weak and feeble words. He couldn't hope to spell, but this was still some sort of a fight. Rupert. He said before going through with it. Remember our agreement that you'd find a strong opponent? Rupert repeated. Yeah. Yeah, I remember now. Hurry up and end it, Nate. We're gonna be late for class again. A strong opponent and you're picking a fight with a weakling. What a contradiction. They all turned to see who dared to speak up. Some one approaching was approaching. It was a young man, a couple of inches taller than all of them with exception to Nate, he had short dark brown hair and a fist balled up. Rupert's grin drooped into a grimace. John, he asked grumpily hoping he was mistaken. Nope stunt double said John, he stopped shy of them and placed his hands in his pocket. You haven't given up your old habits. John asked James you, you wouldn't be the one that Chera brings up, would you, John's ears perked. She talks about me. He chuckled. I'll have to thank you for that. Let em go guys. Why would I listen to a filthy traitor like you asked Rupert, what's a traitor asked Nate Rupert. Maybe we should do. As he says, Heath warned we're in the middle of a crowded hall and class is about to start. Hold on. This is too perfect. Said Rupert, he marched up to John and stared him down. We haven't had the chance to talk after our spat. I believe your feet. Did the talking Napoleon John cut in. Curtly. Let him go. Or what Benedict Arnold Rupert insisted. What could you do against the three of us? Two? If you want to discount the Ginger John disagreed and half if we count you, I thought his name was John. Nick chimed in the two wouldn't turn away from the other. It was like a blinking contest between them. Rupert was far from overjoyed to be reunited with John. Once again, he wanted so badly to enact his revenge against James for the things he'd said. But a glance over John's shoulder had made him reconsider that in between classes, every student had only five minutes to make it to the next class and they'd all wasted much of it chasing after James fine. Rupert agreed hesitantly. Heath. Nate, let the little nerd go. We're going to be late but Nate objected before a glare from Rupert silenced him. He let go and James slid along the locker. Let's go. Guys. Rupert instructed the three disappeared among the crowd but not without Rupert and Nate giving John a disgusted grimace after picking up the glasses, John approached James holding up the glasses first. You all right. He asked James took the glasses and put them back on. I remember you, James growled. You are no different than them. John knelt down to him. Those days are behind me. He said softly, Sarah and I are now close friends. James gave a mocking chuckle. Oh, sure they're behind you. But what about the rest of us? You think Cher will forget the torment she went through. What about those with scars with those ever heel? John reached his hand out. I don't doubt you're still tormented by the things we did, but I took the first step to overcome it. Sarah has as well. I know you have some friends but let us be there for you as well. James smacked it away like you'd make a difference. James muttered. It's been every day for six years and not just here, teachers pay no mind to it and principals brush it off this scar on my head. He pointed to the mark across his temple. Didn't come from here. Wherever I turn, I get hurt and rather than help me, others stand and watch in amusement. Don't waste your time on me. Fine. Be that way. John shrugged. He turned and departed later, kid. He headed off to his last class of the day after finding it, he took his assigned seat at the corner farthest from the door. He had barely gotten through the door before the bell rang. The teacher was already at the desk. She was an older woman with a number of wrinkles and small glasses on the bridge of her nose, cutting it close. John said the teacher, I had an obstacle. Missus winter's John explained as he took his seat. That's no excuse for tardiness. Now, take your seat. We have a lot to go over today. The rest of the day drowned on by not aided by missus winters talking to no end about the subject they were discussing for the day aside from small breaks to get a sip of water from a bottle, she appeared to be able to keep up rather well. John had to wonder why she wasn't giving lectures in a college. Instead, most of the students struggled to keep up even as she nearly filled the entire board. In spite of her small writing from the top to the bottom. John darted his eyes up at the clock. Still 10 minutes left. 10 long droning minutes. Uh He looked back at the front of the classroom though. He didn't need to. He could sense the cold, menacing glare from Missus Winter's John. She said firmly since time is so important to you, perhaps you can answer a question for me who was Catherine Genovese? Hardly a question. He'd heard this story before. He had to take a moment to recall the story told to him, a murder victim killed in 1964. He answered it's believed possibly falsely that many witnessed her murder and no one did anything to stop it. Or call the police. This led to a psychology term called the bystander effect. Very good. She congratulated him, you even know your psychology for your grade. Now, I want you all to pay attention to this John's right. The media falsely ran with the story of the bystander effect. Some did in fact try to help. In that case, a hand rose up from a girl next to John, she had short blonde hair with pink highlights and always tended to dress similarly to a rock star, albeit with a skirt and boots. She had some small scars on her arms and one going up the left side of her cheek. Yes, Lynn, what does this have to do with social studies? Is this part of history? She asked the bystander effect is often still in play even today. It's believed that many tend to be a witness to an event yet fail to act on it. And John, how did you come to know about both the crime and the term? My dad once told me about it. I see she continued on with her rambling the bell rang. John was one of the first to depart. He headed for his locker farther in the back of the first floor. After sorting through his belongings, he closed it and headed on his way. He found who he was looking for in the middle hallway of the building. It was a girl with light brown hair just below the shoulders held back with a red hair band with a pin of a blanket flower clipped to the side. She had circular golden earrings that bob with every movement she had barring rear belts of cold weather. She always tended to wear sandals. The girl was busy sorting through her locker. She tapped at her lips. No, that's not right. She muttered to herself. She was far too focused on her locker. This was too perfect an opportunity. Silently his footsteps not making as much as a breeze. John inched behind her boo. He screamed and took her by the shoulders for added effect. She gave an ear splitting shriek and her feet left the ground. Her purse hit the floor along with the book in her hand. As John let go, she spun around panting. He could see her chest rising with each deep intake of breath. Then as it registered to her, what happened and who'd done it? She shot him in angry glare. I told you to stop doing that. She fussed at him as she went to pick up her belongings. John knelt down to help her. He picked up the book she dropped first the notebook. He read the title. The girl yanked it from his hands. It's a BB book. She stuttered her face flushing a bright shade of crimson. Obviously a book about two people in love. Her eyes shot open. You've read it. He shook his head. No, the cover gave it away. She sighed romantically and clasped her hands together. It's a story of, of two people from two different worlds. They befriend each other and fall in love but their statuses in life threaten to tear them apart. So romantic. Right. Cute. We should get going. Mom hates to be kept waiting. I know the warmth of her cheeks had yet to vanish and she rubbed her arm awkwardly. She hurried to sort through her locker and they departed by now, much of the crowd had left leaving mostly them and a few small numbers of kids, aside from the gymnasium or the cafeteria, the front lobby was one of the most spacious areas of the school. The main office was located to the side left from the front entrance and across from it was the gymnasium. They could hear the noise of some shouting and the dribbling of a basketball from there. A noise behind them made them jump down the hall to the side of where they just arrived from was a commotion. Despite how distant it was, they could see a one sided scuffle. A bigger boy punching a smaller one repeatedly. Sarah took a few steps forward. Something wrong. Asked John. I hope that isn't James. She said softly. Oh, you've got to be kidding me, John whispered irritably. He knew who the assailant was. They'd just spoken an hour ago as Nate pounded away, John simply stood and watched a few students passed by the attack nonchalantly all acting as though the event was invisible to them to increase their pace to get by rapidly. John could even swear that some adults notice the event only to turn away. What should we do? Said Sarah meekly John shrugged. Hey, he called out Nate turned to see him. John approached his fists balled up and ready to go. Nate could hardly believe his luck except that he didn't have much time. The buses were about to leave very soon in less than two minutes. If his time was correct, his shoulders drooped in disappointment and he turned to sprint to a nearby hall closer to where students left for the buses. As John approached, he could see that yet again, James wasn't wearing his glasses and he had some fresh bruising on his face. John shook his head and scanned the hall around them. He soon found the glasses nearby in front of a set of lockers. He picked them up. You all right. Asked John, man, you're a magnet for trouble, aren't you? James pulled away? Sara caught up James. It's me. Sarah stepped in. She stood in front of him. This is my friend John, the one I've told you about. She gave a polite bow. Please let us help you. John handed him his glasses. He put them back on the bridge of his nose. I know who he is. James growled, coldly thinking he can brush off his old activities like it. Never happened. Helping me a second time. Doesn't change anything. A second time asked Sarah curiously. She continued on. Aren't you supposed to be a bus rider? You're not going to make it in time. I'll just call my grandpa. His voice was raspy and cold. At least he doesn't hit me. You have to fight back. Said John, what asked Sarah? No, he has to let an adult know about this report. It, they smell weakness. John continued and know what they can get away with. I should know that when you fight back, the bullies tend to look for a weaker target. James scoffed at him. It doesn't matter. Don't waste your time. He groaned. I have to call grandpa. You should get on with your day. James don't be like that. Sarah urged you should listen to her. She used to be in the same boat as you because she has you, James replied, don't you have friends asked Sarah? I've seen you a few times with a crowd, James. You should let someone know about this. Maybe your parents, my parents wouldn't care if I died. He shot back loudly enough that both John and Sarah jumped at the unexpected outburst. No one would. People would just carry on like I was never here. You don't know what kind of life I live. We'll see you off to the office. John insisted. I said I'm fine. Yeah. Yeah, John finished for him. I'm not taking no for an answer. And I'm not about to upset the princess here, her face went red and she tried to cover it with her hands. I'm not a princess. She wailed through her hands. They escorted James watching as he entered the office after he entered, they stepped away. Thank you, John said, Sarah brightly as he headed back toward the entrance, Sarah began to muse princess. She said in her mind and she gave a small giggle, her chest began to erase at that nickname John had given it to her recently, but her father had always called her that daddy's little princess. He declare at the sight of his little girl, what was going on back there? She asked why, what were those kids passing by and not doing anything about it? She groaned in frustration, stupid stutter. It's because you worked up. John answered her. He opened the door to let her out first. As for that, I'm not sure maybe the ones picking up their pace were going to alert an adult. He wasn't going to say it to Sarah, but he had a feeling he knew why Sarah took in a deep breath. It did a little to help her compose herself. A police cruiser awaited them outside the windows rolled down and they could see a man in a beige police uniform. He had a similar hair color and resemblance to John but older and with a goatee come on, he barked impatiently to them mom must be running late again. John thought they obliged. John opened the passenger's front seat and stepped inside. Ladies and princesses first. He said to Sarah doing his best act of a polite gentleman. Thank you. Said Sarah with a bow. John got into the back seat behind her, I'll drop you off at home then get back to work. Said his dad, your mom's running late but she should be able to pick up Marie. Ok. Said John, the car continued on and soon left the residence. Hey dad asked John is all that stuff about the bystander effect? True. It is. He said, don't tell your mom. I told you this same to you. Sarah. He glanced at the rear view mirror to see them nod. I had to talk to a few people to today about a murder. There were three witnesses to it but none of them did anything to prevent it. It seems to be more common. Now, I heard a story earlier today about a bullying related suicide. Several people saw the young girl being tormented yet. No one did anything. Not even the teachers, what Sarah had to ask, she was mortified that such a thing could happen and no one would even acknowledge it worse than that. The principal refused to even answer questions after driving straight at a green light, they'd entered Market Avenue down along the left from where Sam sat at the intersection were a lengthy set of apartments. He passed by an ice cream shop when his radio went off calling all units said a woman at the other end calling all units. We have an so seven in the old stone apartments repeat an so seven in the old stone apartments. Sam's shoulders dropped and he stopped the car in front of the entry to the beach. You bring your house key. He asked John, he didn't wait for an answer before he continued. See you two later be good. And no, Hanky Panky, he skidded off taking a sharp turn as his sirens blared who even says that any more said John, he reached into his pocket to feel for his key. What does Hanky pinky mean asked Sarah, she followed him up the sidewalk, keeping her attention on those playing at the beach. It means he thinks we're dating Sarah's mouth shot open and her face went red. Why does everyone keep thinking that she asked? We've been friends for a long time. It's not like we're love interests in a work of fiction. We're not a modern day Romeo and Juliet. You're right. We're not dead. She playfully shoved his shoulder. That's not funny. They headed up the sidewalk until they came upon the first house hanging over the cliff by the beach. It was two stories and had a vibrant sky blue color to it as they approached the front porch. Sarah knelt down to a rectangular shaped vase of flowers and took a whiff through her nostrils. The flowers were of a variety of colors. Missus Bennett's been hard at work. She said she kept her eyes closed to savor the faint odor of the flowers. Mom spends most of her free time tending to them. John explained. He unlocked the door and allowed Sarah in. First, I want to see your mom's flowers outside. First, she said she entered the kitchen through the left of the living room, then stepped outside through a sliding glass door. The interior of the living room had two couches across from one another like an L A coffee table in front of them and a TV. In front of the table. A VCR and a DVD player were hooked into the T VA hallway leading to three rooms was next to the TV. And to the right of the front door were a set of stairs to the second floor. John sat at the couch and reached into his backpack. The most he had were a few science and math problems. Sarah stepped back in after a moment, took her purse and went for the first door to the left of the hallway. John looked over his papers of problems. He gave a soft chuckle. These were hardly much of questions to him and he could hear the sound of the shower fountain. He didn't write anything down even as he heard the curtains stop several minutes later. And it took more for the door to open. Sarah stepped out, still in the same clothes she'd worn to school but had tied her hair back into a ponytail. She sat beside John and soared through her belongings until she found her homework for the day and her pencil for work as they worked. Sarah tapped at her cheek with her pencil, staring at her work. She had a few social studies questions to answer and had to flip through the text books chapters. Her class had been going over. She began to write but couldn't help but to dart her eyes over to John, he appeared to be writing quickly, her chest began to pound. Then as if getting the sense he was being watched, he turned to her, what he asked playfully. Ah, it's nothing she said aloud, flustered that she'd been caught staring at him. Um, it's just that I'm having a little trouble wi wi with my social studies, he took a peek over her homework one page back, third paragraph. He said she did as instructed and found the answer. Thank you. She said it dawned on her as soon as she said it, how foolishly she'd said it like some schoolgirl struggling to get her words out on her first date. She cleared her throat. Thank you. She repeated more gracefully and gave a polite bow. How did you know this? I was in the same grade last year. Remember? He said I still have a lot of questions to answer. She complained with a groan. I hate social studies but I don't want to get another bad test score. Mom wouldn't let me come here for a month. Last time until I promised that you and Marie would help me and done. He said proudly, he threw his pencil down. Of course you are. Sarah griped care to help a princess out. Sure. Has anyone ever told you how cute you look with a ponytail? Her face turned red. I'm not cute. She dropped her pencil as she continued her work with the help of John. She'd take occasional moments to stroke her ponytail. Every time she did, her cheeks would go warm and done. She said proudly after finishing the last one, she threw down the pencil. Now she had to hope that the answers were correct. Not bad. Said John, she giggled and the two locked eyes they couldn't pull away. It was like a magnetic force keeping them from turning away. They didn't want to the door opened behind them, an adult woman with short blonde hair barely reaching the tips of her shoulders and with her was a younger girl almost a foot shorter than Sarah with blonde hair held into a two layered bun on the top of her head. John and Sarah jumped at the son of the door. Hello, Missus Bennet and Marie. Sarah greeted them. Hello. Sarah said Missus Bennet slowly an eyebrow lifted upward in suspicion in her hands were bags of groceries and we've been over this call me, Kim. No need for formalities here. Yeah, Marie chimed in. You two weren't fooling around. Were you asked Kim loudly as she set the groceries into the kitchen? What's fooling around asked Marie? Does that mean to goof off? No, we just finished our homework. Said John quickly. I was helping Sarah Homer. Ha Maurice circled around the couch. Sarah is your hair wet? You know that if you put your hair up when it's wet, it damages the roots, right? I didn't know that I just needed it out of my way while I did my homework. Plus John really likes it. She thought to herself she was never going to tell Marie that. Why is your face red? It isn't. Sarah denied. Marie took Sarah's piles of papers and began to look over them a couple wrong here. She said and she pointed out to them, but the handwriting is nice. Thank you, Marie did the same for John's. Her brows dropped as soon as she lay eyes on them. Is this gibberish? She said I can barely read this. Hey, John said to her, he took back his papers and set them into a folder before placing them into his backpack. Fine be that way. Said Marie Crossly, I didn't want to help you anyways jerk. No fighting. Kim shouted as long as you're finished with your homework, both of you hop into the shower or bath, whichever you do and don't hog all the hot water. Fine, John agreed. Begrudgingly. John asked Sarah, is it all right? If I play your games in your room, he smiled. Sure, I'll play with you when I'm done. John had no idea that none of his attempts to intervene would matter before he knew it, the worst would happen and nothing would ever be the same.