literature

Bully

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

Daniel was shaking as he approached the tall unkempt bushes fencing off Mr. Udantal’s house.  Each morning previously this week, Hank had been waiting just past the hedge amongst the sparse trees lining an empty field that stretched out at the end of the neighborhood.  Each morning, Daniel had been painfully persuaded to relinquish his lunch money to the older, larger boy.
     The field wasn’t big, but was isolated from view of anyone in the houses since, despite being halfway through October, the trees all still had their leaves, so Daniel had no hope of rescue by anyone not already on their way to work.  Because of the freeway overpass past the dead end of the street, the only walking route to Danny’s school was past this field, so he had no chance of avoiding Hank’s chosen ambush point.
     This was Daniel’s first year in town; his family had moved here the week before school started.  It never took long for a new kid at Weston Elementary to find out about Hank Douder.  Thirteen, but still in fifth grade after failing twice, Hank was the biggest child in the school.  It was an advantage that Hank enjoyed utilizing to torment those who had the misfortune of being half his size and forced to spend a large portion of their days near him.
     Not even a week after the start of the academic year, Andrew, Danny’s only friend in town thus far, had refused to relinquish his swing to Hank upon demand during recess.  Hank’s response was to grab Andrew’s collar and slug the smaller boy in the gut.  Daniel watched his friend curled in the fetal position, gasping for breath, and decided he would avoid pissing Hank off.  He had been successful in not attracting Hank’s rage, but learned four days ago that a bully doesn’t always wait for a reason to spring an attack.
     Monday, Danny was caught completely unaware as he strolled past the field.  Hank was leaning on a tree, his smile revealing the gap between his front teeth.  Danny tried to ignore him, but any hope of this meeting being incidental fell heavy in Daniel’s stomach when the bully stepped in front of him.
     Scuffed blue sneakers planted Hank’s thick legs to the ground.  Wearing ripped jeans, a faded Metallica t-shirt that hung almost to his knees, and sporting a buzz cut, Hank probably looked silly to anyone possessing a driver’s license.  To a sixty-pound, spectacled third grader, he was King Kong.  Danny put up no resistance when instructed to donate his lunch money to the fiend.  Hank punched him in the ribs despite his acquiescence before walking away.  Doing his best to not think about the throbbing from the blossoming bruise on his side, Danny rose to his feet once the bully had disappeared and trudged the rest of the way to school, sitting quietly through the day, his young features distorting every time he took too deep a breath.
     The following morning, Hank was waiting again, this time seated on the ground behind a large rock and eating a candy bar.  Danny didn’t notice him until he turned in response to the crumpled, empty silver wrapper that flew over his shoulder.  As soon as the sight of that cruel grin framed in stubbly hair registered, Daniel tried to run, but Hank’s hands latched onto his shoulders, killing the escape attempt.  The reassuring sense of solid ground beneath his feel deserted the young boy as his assailant tossed him casually through the air.  All Danny could think of as he sailed along was how hungry he’d been the day before.  The hard landing revitalized the bruise from the previous day, and the end of a fallen branch opened a cut below his right eye.  Hank dropped onto Danny’s back, driving a knee into the boy’s kidney until a small hand rose with a green dollar and two quarters gripped inside.
     Even though his cheek had scabbed up by the time he returned home that afternoon, Daniel’s mother had chattered and cooed over the wound for hours.  His dad, too, asked what had happened.  Danny told both that he’d tripped and fallen, ashamed at having been defeated without a struggle.  By the time Danny went to his room after dinner, his parents seemed to have forgotten his injury.
     When it was almost his bedtime, Danny set his book aside, turned off the radio, and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.  On his way back, thanks to the acoustics of the stairwell, he heard his parents arguing.
     “I got it because I think we need it,” his father whispered.
     “I can’t believe you did that.  What about Daniel?”  He could tell they were both trying to keep their voices down, but sound carried quite well through the living room entrance and up the stairs.
     “He won’t find out about it.”
     Danny’s ears perked up at the prospect of something new and forbidden in his father’s statement, but it would have to wait for the following day.  Tonight, he was in the mood for nothing but curling up in bed and trying take his mind off his aching ribs long enough to fall asleep.
     Wednesday, Danny had been more alert, catching a glimpse of the worn shoe tip peeking from behind a tree.  He tried dashing back to the safety of his house, not thinking of the fact that his parents had already left.  Two houses from his, Hank’s raspy breathing so close on his tail he could swear he could feel the heat of it on his neck, Danny stumbled over the mount where a diving board would have been two months ago.  Unfortunately, the pool’s owner had not yet drained the water in preparation for winter, and Hank rammed hard into Danny’s shoulder, sending him splashing among the leaves floating in the chlorinated water.  Hank hadn’t even bothered to get the lunch funds from him, but looking forward to actually eating that day was not enough to cheer the child as he shuffled home to change and afterwards suffered through the angry words of his teacher for being late to school.
     Yesterday, Hank hid up in the branches of a tree that hung over the sidewalk, leaping down when Danny passed below, punching the boy in the back of the head upon landing.  Danny would have fallen on his face from the unexpected blow, but Hank grabbed him by the back of his underwear, resulting in a wedgie that Daniel would feel every time he sat down for the rest of the day.  As he tried at lunch that day to urge a few kids into donating scraps to his cause after being mugged once again, trying not to wince at the pain in his crotch, Danny decided that he was no longer going to be an easy victim.  He came up with a plan on the walk home from school, the return trip thankfully safe since Hank had detention after school for the week.  Daniel would fight back, and hopefully be successful in getting Hank to leave him alone.
     Thursday evening, he prepared for the next morning.  He filled a balloon with what was left of the pudding from dessert two nights ago, and poured in some anise oil before tying the balloon to cut off the smell.  He took a paper lunch bag and stashed it in his backpack- it would have to wait for the next day to be filled, until Danny went through the Johnson’s yard next door.  The last piece of his plan would have to wait until just before he left home.
     Friday morning, with his preparations complete after a furtive two minutes groping blindly above his head on the shelf in his father’s closet while his mother was occupied cooking pancakes, and a quick stop on his way through the neighbor’s backyard, Danny approached the end of Mr. Udantal’s scraggly hedges where the tail of a baggy shirt waved, quivering with anticipation at putting his idea to the test, and from fear it would fail.  Four houses back, Danny had hidden the balloon next to a garden hose that lay behind a low brick wall separating the pale pink house with plastic flamingos stuck in the grass from the pool Danny had involuntarily plunged into two days before.  He carried the brown lunch bag in his hands, now freshly full.  The final surprise was tucked away in the bottom of his backpack.
     “Morning, wimp,” Hank growled as he leapt in front of his prey.  “I knew you was stupid enough to walk this way again.”
     “There’s no other way to get to school, Hank.  Just leave me alone.”  Danny hung his head, wringing his hands on the folded top of the bag.  “I ain’t got money today.”
     “Fine.  Give me your lunch and we’ll call it even.”
     “You don’t want it, Hank.  Besides, if you take it, I can’t eat again.”  He stared at a bright red pimple on Hank’s forehead, trying to maintain his courage.
     “Aww, I feel so bad for you.  Guess you’ll just have to start eating a bigger breakfast.  Give it here.”
     “C’mon, Hank, please?  I’ll share it with you at lunch.  I swear.”
     “You’ll give it all to me now.”
     Hank raised a fist.  Danny showed what he hoped was an appropriately cowed expression and hung his head.  Handing over the bag, Danny shuffled a few steps back as Hank opened it, the larger boy’s triumphant smile growing as he reached inside.  Hank grasped what lay in the bottom and his smile vanished.  Squinting and grimacing like he had just swallowed rancid milk, Hank drew his hand into view, covered with globs of still-warm dog feces.
     “I’m gonna kill you!”
     Danny was already running, dodging as though panicked, concentrating on reaching the brick wall perpendicular to the sidewalk fifty yards away.  He dove behind it, reaching for his hidden projectile.
     The bully rounded the corner of the wall excitedly, expecting Daniel to be trembling in horror at what he’d done and ready for a handful of dog crap.  Instead, he was greeted with the balloon breaking across the bridge of his nose, coating his face in thick pudding, gagging him with the smell of licorice.  Danny picked up the hose coiled beneath the window.
     “You look dirty, let me help,” hooted Danny as he hopped around, giggling, soaking Hank with cold water, careful not to spray the pudding from the other boy’s face.  Daniel laughed harder at the thud when the older boy slipped on the wet grass and went down.  Seizing this opportunity, Danny dropped the hose, ripped a plastic flamingo out of the dirt by its thin metal leg, and smashed it over Hank’s head.
     “You little shit,” Hank screamed as he threw the broken lawn ornament.  “You so should not have done this.”  He was trying to wipe the reeking vanilla mess out of his eyes, but mostly just succeeded in smearing dog poop all over his cheeks.  Meanwhile, Danny was busy digging in his backpack.
     “Danny, you are gonna die!  I’m gonna rip you...”
     Click-clack.
     Hank didn’t need to see to realize what had just happened.  He knew the noise of a round being chambered well from trips to the firing range with his father.  It stopped the bully’s ranting as Danny revealed the final piece of his plan, pulled back on the top like he’d seen in movies, and leveled the weapon at the bully’s head.  Looking through the gooey strands stretched between his eyelashes, Hank found himself staring at the wrong end of a 9mm as he rose on one knee, that gaping hole in the center darker even than the black metal around it.  He felt warmth run down his leg as his bladder let go.
     “Damn bully.  You’re not going to kill me.  You’re not going to bother me ever again.  You promise to leave me alone, right?”  Danny hadn’t bothered to search the closet for ammunition, not knowing how to load the gun, and figuring the sight of it alone would be enough to get Hank to leave him alone.  It appeared he’d been right as Hank swallowed hard and nodded.
     “Good.  If you ever bother me again, I’m going to shoot you in the back.”
     Danny was going to walk away, but at that moment he noticed the stream dribbling from the bottom of Hank’s shorts that was too yellow to be from the garden hose.  The weight of the gun gave him confidence, and he couldn’t resist a chance to further torment the older boy.
     “Now, let’s go to school.  We’ll tell everyone that a little kid made you piss yourself, you chicken shit.
     Hank snarled.  “Wimp,” he bellowed as he leapt forward.
     Danny flinched, and in doing so, clenched his hands.  His mouth gaped in shock at the explosion that drowned out the bully’s angry cry as it tore through the neighborhood.  He watched through a haze of bluish smoke as Hank’s eyes widened for a flash before the left one disappeared, vaporized along with an irregular chunk of his head in a spray of carnage.  
     Crimson mist filled Danny’s sight and decorated his face with angry dots.  Something brushed past his open lips, landing on his tongue with a bitter splash.  The young boy spat in disgust, recoiling as he watched a grey mass of Hank’s brain arc through the air.  He crumpled to the ground, spraying his half-digested breakfast all over the short green shrubs.
     Birds scattered from trees and telephone wires.  People not yet on the road towards their jobs were drawn outside to gawk, their interest further piqued by the repetition of, “I only meant to scare him.  I didn’t know it was loaded,” in a trembling whisper from behind the brick wall.  Curiosity turned to horror as each rounded the small barricade to see the corpse of a thirteen-year old boy sprawled in the grass, half its head still there, the other half coating the bricks and lawn, and an even smaller boy, face spotted with blood and an oozing glob of scalp stuck to one lens of his glasses, cowering against the house, rocking gently, gripping a gun, bawling.
This story came from a writing workshop, everyone had to do a story where the theme was one character wants another to give them something the other doesn't want to give. Here's mine.
© 2006 - 2024 Garex
Comments1
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ThundersSilence's avatar
aaaalright... wow.... i liked it. first the style seemed to be very distant to the thing that was actually happening. distant description, in long, convoluted sentences, which seemed sometimes almost too complicated. (but i got them, after a bit of concentration ;) )
i think there were one or two repetitions, but i'm not sure now anymore, where.
then, eventually, at the "day of revenge" you got nearer to the character, and then that ending...
sure i have been reading other stories employing guns in homes and kids using them
but this is written... differently, somehow almost coldly
and i do like it.
:clap: