So, this is my sucky attempt at destroying James. Not as easy as you might think. Ah, well, review and chiz like that. My bullying day will go on for 2 days because...well, it's hard to explain, but R&R! But don't favourite without reviewing!
HPloveofmylife

When James was in the 1st grade, he met his first friend. Her name was Madeline and she was beautiful and stunning and funny and could make his heart go boomboomboom so fast it was like a drumbeat. Maddy was his best friend for three years until, one day, she didn't come back to school.

He felt lost and lonely and c.o.n.f.u.s.e.d because why wasn't his Maddy here with him to make all the people stop teasing him? For, you see, Madeline was more than just his best friend.

She was his protector.

When Maddy didn't return to school – and 8 year old James, who didn't watch the news, didn't see the headline that said 'local school girl killed in a hit&run' – he was bullied more than ever – except, shh, he didn't call it bullying – and he felt lonely and scared and tired of it all.

And then, in the 5th grade, after a year of relentless taunting, he made a new best friend. Michael was funny and a really good singer and he made James feel special in a way nobody had ever managed to do. Except, when they walked down the halls of school, James wasn't entirely sure what the words meant that people called Michael – fag, priss, dyke – and he didn't understand why it made Michael so upset.

And then, one day, James is pulled from class and told in a quiet voice words that sounded all a jumble to him. 'Michael…knife…bullying…teasing…note…trauma.' And he just nods at the secretary and goes back into class without a word, ignoring the whispers and hisses and the 'ohmygodthat'shisfriend' that he hears behind his back.

The bullying – because, now, there's no other word for it – continues and this time it's worse than ever. By the time he's in 8th grade, he's locked himself in the boys' bathroom so many times and has read the messages scribbled on the walls so many times and the scars on his wrists never stop ssttiinnggiinngg and every night the water in the porcelain bathtub . And his parents are oblivious.

But then one day, three boys transfer to his school and they've got such tightlittlecircle that James feels a little pang of jealousy, and everyone seems to like them and listen to them and respect them.

Kendall Knight, Carlos Garcia and Logan Mitchell are everything James wishes he could be.

And then, one day, when a boy two years above James pushes him into a locker, James closes his eyes and waits for the pain but…it never comes. He peels open an eye to see Kendall, Carlos and Logan standing in front of him, glowering at the tall boy.

"Leave him be." Kendall snarls, and the other two nod.

"He never did anything to you, so keep moving." That's Carlos, James is certain. When the guy has moved on, Logan turns to James with a smile on his face, one ohsogenuine and ohsonice that the boy on the floor has to smile back.

"Jerk." Kendall mutters darkly as he and Logan reach down a hand to help James up. He brushes himself off and says a quick thanks before he turns to go, but Carlos runs after him and asks him to have lunch with them. He says yes after a moment because no one has asked him to eat with them in 1, 2, 3 years and ohgoditsbeensolong.

And those three boys quickly become four and James feels like he belongs and they defend him and stand up for him and make him feel loved and treasured. But still those scars are yet to h-e-a-l and at night when no one can hear him the tears just s l i d e d o w n h i s f a c e and they won't stop.

And then, one day, after school when he's got a detention for ramming a boy over the barrier of the hockey rink and he's supposed to be helping the crazycrazycrazy art teacher with the set design of a musical, he slips into the theatre and sees that it's empty.

But there's a guitar and a stool on stage and he can't help it because he always liked singing. So he skips the steps two at a time, picks up the guitar, sits on the stool and begins to play. He plays and play and plays until his fingers are bleeding from the picking, but he doesn't stop, instead begins to sing.

His rich, clear voice floods the auditorium and he doesn't hear the art teacher enter and he doesn't notice his three best friends following close after because it's just him [he's lost in the music] and he nearly slips off the stage when he hears cheering and clapping off to the left and when he sees the little crowd that's formed there, he stares for a moment and then takes off running. Singing was his dirtylittlesecret and no one else was supposed to know but him.

The news the next morning reads: 'James Diamond, local school boy, was killed early yesterday evening after running across the road and into a truck. He died on impact. In an interview with his three best friends, all three who are crying at the loss of their fourth member, say that they haven't known James long but he's become a brother to them. 'He's been bullied for a few years now, and we've been helping to put a stop to it.' Logan Mitchell, a short, raven-haired boy says as he wipes at a few stray tears. 'We found him singing in the auditorium yesterday afternoon and when he saw us, he just ran out and all we heard was this CRUNCH! And he was lying in the middle of the road.'

The people who bullied James Diamond for most of his life did not regret his death. They found it funny, to be honest. One day, after hockey practice, they were standing in the showers, laughing about how 'pretty little James got run over by a bus' when Logan, Kendall and Carlos appeared. They were white faced and red-eyed, but they were angry and upset about the guys laughing. So they did the first thing they could think of.

5 boys of the school hockey team were wheeled off to the nurse with broken noses, each the handiwork of hockey sticks. As the three boys cleaned sweat and dried mud off the floors off the locker room floor, all three of them could have sworn they heard James laughing.