And to think it all started as a prank. Nothing was suppose to come out of this that would of had such a big effect. Now as I stand here with my head down, looking at a blood stained sidewalk, I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't of done this...

There are no cars beeping, no sirens going off, and no other students or any other type of person around. It's too quiet for this part of town. Of course there will be no witnesses because everyone else ran off. Why couldn't I do the same? I just couldn't let it go. I had to have that last laugh. Well, I definitely have it now.

All the different parts of my mind are screaming different things at me, but in the end they all say, "Run away! Nobody will know it's you! Just get away before someone DOES see you!" At this point though I wouldn't be able to hear anyone let alone myself. What I can process is that it has to be past curfew and the Prefects are contemplating on whether or not to come after me.

It won't matter anyways if they find out what I've done. This is could be the start and/or end of me. Another sure thing is that there is no longer any real competition for reign of the school unless that Gary character decides to come out of the hiding place that everyone tells me about. I'll worry about it when that time comes.

Now before I go on I assume I should start from my beginning. And the beginning to the death of, Jimmy Hopkins.

CHAPTER ONE

Off to a Great Start...

It was early in the morning when I was standing outside taking the last drag off of my Newport Menthol. My bag was already packed and sitting by the old, wooden door that was slowly swaying back and forth in the cool morning air.

My right hand was still swollen and just about every one of my knuckles on both hands were dark purple. I could still see, in my mind, the random holes in my bedroom wall from the mental breakdown that took place the night before. The previous morning started off just as normal as most days in my life did.

I woke to, yet again, another cool, fall morning. It was late August so school had not yet started. I put on fresh clothes after taking a warm shower, took the usually list of items and stuffed my pockets with them. Cigarettes, one or two lighters, and all the money I had stashed in crawl space in the back of my closet. Also the occasional bottle of alcohol, sometimes more than just a bottle, which either was hid into my jacket or into my school backpack.

After making sure I had what I needed I went down the stairs, yelled to whoever cared that I leaving, and walked out the door. I stopped on the first step of the front porch and lit a cigarette. There was no wind today so it didn't take as long as usual.

I jumped down off the steps and landed with a new found energy. I walked into downtown and it couldn't of been anymore unusually normal. None of my friends were anywhere to be found, so I decided just to walk for awhile.

It must've been around one or two in the afternoon when I returned home. I took one last drag of my usual before home cigarette and flicked it off my thumb and middle finger into the street. When it hit the embers from the cherry flew everywhere. I then let the smoke out slowly with one long breath and walked in through the front door, up the steps, into the one thing I had never expected...

It was silent. The television wasn't blaring, there wasn't the sound of dishes clanging together and hitting the bottom of the sink. No running up and down the stairs either. I hollered but there was no response. Something wasn't right.

And there it was, sitting on the kitchen counter. The letter that would change, at least, the rest of my teenage years forever. I had no idea at first what it was about. It was addressed to me though so I picked it up and started to read. This is what it said,

"We love you. Always remember that no matter what happens.

But we are so sorry to say that we can no longer deal with the trouble

of living in a big city, and the trouble that always happens to follow you.

You're smart and we know you try to stay away from it but

we can't handle much more. It comes back on us as bad parenting.

We did the best to raise you. And you did the best to try and give back..."

At that point I was dumbfounded, speechless, shocked, whatever you want to call it. My mind was now at a state of confusion. The letter continues to say that they were moving and that it would be easier on them if I was gone before they packed everything up.

In the last paragraph I was informed of a package underneath the right side of my parent's bed that I needed to open. What could it hurt? I was already at the point of emotional explosion. Why not just go over the edge and get it done with?

The package was a brown box. On the side was a strange logo of a bull. You know, the ones that have a ring going through their nose and a look of anger to go with it. As I opened it I was preparing myself for anything.

Inside was what looked to be a school uniform. The was a note attached that said, "Make sure to be wearing this so they pick up the right person."

I looked it over and it consisted of new, straight laced, white hi-top sneaks, a pair of light tan slacks, a polo shirt with the same logo as the package had on the right side breast pocket, and a zip up sports jacket with a logo the same as the polo.

I picked up the letter and finished the last couple sentences.

"You're being sent to Bullworth Academy. We wish you the best of luck."