Yo, my name is Ori, and I'm writing my first ever Beyblade Fanfiction story! I loved the fandom for years now...ever since I was six years old, and that was eleven years ago. Beyblade is the thing that got me into the world of Fanfiction writing, so I felt like I owe it to the show to write a story now that I have a little experience in which it takes to write a full out story using OC's and stuff. It's been a while since I got into the series, so bare with me please. I promise to make it as painless as possible. *Laughs slightly* Anyways, let's move on with the actual story.

Copyright: Everything Beyblade doesn't belong to me, I'm just a huge fan. Josh Williams, however, belongs to me. You can only use Josh if I ask you to or you ask me if you can use him. We good? I believe so.

(Josh's POV)

"Come on Drake, push your weight forward!"

Click!

"Bill throw the ball to Jason!"

Click! Click! Click!

"Doug get your ass moving!"

Click! Click! Click! Click!

"Williams get off the field! You're not a damn football player!"

My gaze shifted to the red face of Coach Brown. He failed to understand that I hated the idea of being here just as much as the rest of the sweaty, bulky kids in the full out uniform. It's nearly a hundred degrees with the sun blazing, and not a cloud in sight. No one in their right mind wants to be on a field made completely out of fake plastic grass and tiny rubber chips that absorbs the heat. However, I have a job to do.

"Coach, he's part of the yearbook."

"I don't give a damn."

I rolled my eyes. Looks like coach is kicking me off the field. What a shame! I wanted nothing more than to capture the wonders of the most manly sport in the world. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? The idea of football sickens me. It's nothing personal towards the people that love it. It's just the fact that it brings back horrible memories. Just being on the field is enough to make me a nervous wreck. I can't believe that the yearbook cabinet placed me on the task of capturing football pictures. They know that I have Pedaspheraphobia, the fear of football! I take in a deep breath. Placing my camera on the ground, I pulled off my backpack. Unzipping it, I shoved my camera inside then yanked out my whiteboard and a black Expo marker.

"Bye Josh!" Someone shouted.

Whoever it is, I can't see their face because of the stupid football helmet. You know, the leading reason for concussions is because of the five pound helmet on top of their heads. They wouldn't know that, but then again, I only know because my mom used to rant about it back in my football days. I wave at the unnamed football player before turning. Walking...more like speed walking...I exited the field. Thankfully, I had no class to return to seeing as football practice happens at the end of the school day. All I need to do is go home. Escape this place. The part that sucks, however, is that I'm going home to a place that no longer feels like home. Not that anyone cares enough to ever ask me why. Even if they did, I couldn't tell them the reason. I can't even say a single word anymore. it's all because of my mom. She caused this.

Kicking my feet, I smacked my whiteboard against my left thigh. It's distracting me from my thoughts. I remind myself that everyone thinks I'm emotionless. It's untrue, of course, since I'm human. Every human feels some sort of emotion. It's impossible to kill off every single emotion out there. People have tried then ended up failing. Why should I be one of those people that end up failing the impossible?

"Hey Josh!"

I flinched before looking towards the car that held the last person I wanted to see...EVER! Brad Smith, the man that took my mom away from my dad, flashed his "a little too perfect" smile.

"Come over here!"

I stood there debating my chances of just running away pretending that he's a complete stranger. Later when my mom would ask, I could write her a note explaining that I'm still a little shy. She would buy it just like any mom would. However, I met his gaze. That's a sign that he expects me to come over. Sighing, I went up to the side of his Mustang. That smile of his only grew as if he thought he won something.

"Still not talking?" he asked.

I shook my head while shooting him a glare. He knows why the hell I'm not speaking. It's insulting that he bothers to ask. It's like he's mocking me.

"Your mom wanted me to pick you up and take you home. We can both hang out and watch sports. Unless, you want to watch more of those documents on the History Channel. I don't mind watching them."

Not bothering to move from my spot, I stared at him.

"Come on, hop in kid."

Decline, shake my head, write 'no' on my whiteboard, flip him the bird before running off. All seemed like the smart things to do. It's that simple. I don't want him to ride in the car with me even if it is just for a mile or two. That's too long to be with him. I don't know why the hell he even bothered with me? I never asked him to try to be "buddy-buddy" with me. He needs to understand that it's an awkward and horrible idea of having a step-dad when my real dad is still alive and well. My mother robbed him of the chance to take me away from Myrtle Beach forever. There is thousands of miles between my dad and me now.

"What's wrong Josh? Are you okay?"

He's making this hard. Pulling the cap off the marker, I dragged the tip across the board. A half-ass excuse gets written on it as I hold it up for him to see.

'I left my Pre-Cal textbook in my locker. I need to get it.'

"Oh, you can grab it. I'll be waiting in the school parking for you."

Nodding my head, the trip to the high school begins for me. My old, solid black canvas shoes kicked up dirt. Brad and mom both want to get a new pair of fancy shoes. They don't understand that I don't want new shoes. My canvas are the best shoes in the world. They have lasted me for almost my whole three years of high school so far. They're my good luck charm. To get rid of them is to get rid of a part of me. You can't just ditch a part of you no matter how awful things may be. As I stare at my shoes, I let out a sigh. They're starting to tear. There's no way that I will be able to wear these in the winter time. After last year's snowfall, there is no way that these shoes will last through any kind of snow. Even if it is a tiny bit of snow.

The school is empty as I made it into the massive building. Unlike any other building that one would find in good old Horry County, the high school has no A/C of any kind. I rolled my eyes. Why would anyone think that having no A/C in a school crowded by hundreds of kids is a smart idea? You bring kids with barely any sleep then complain when half of them fall asleep in class. It sucks. It really does. I don't get the logic behind it all. If someone were to ask if we could have late starts, I would be on board with them. I want to sleep in more than anything else.

"Go Seahawks!"

Blinking, I stopped before looking to see the cheerleaders inside the gym. None of them are in the uniform nor did they notice me, but that's okay, I am close to my locker. It takes no time at all for me to reach it. I know that I lied about having to come to my locker, but I absent mindedly ended up here. Man, I should watch how I end up lost in thoughts. I blame being mute for that. You get lost in your head when you can't say anything. I should know...NO I NEED TO FOCUS! Shaking my head, I reached out then started to do the combination. My fingers spun it too much on the last part so I had to do it again. Gritting my teeth, I redid my combination only to do the same thing. Opening my mouth, I tried to cuss only to have no sound come out like every other time that I ever tried to speak. I slammed my foot against the locker door. It made a loud banging sound. Hearing that sound made me pleased so I continued to kick my foot at the door over and over and over again. I only stopped when I noticed that my toes hurt. I'm such an idiot! Why did I just do that?! What was the purpose of kicking a metal door? It's not like it was helping anything at all. The only thing it helped is hurt my foot to the point I'm sure to limp for at least three to four days. I took in a deep breath then opened the door. Immediately, a gush of wind blew behind me. My eyes widened as it increased to the point it's shoving me forward. I gripped the sides of my locker in a desperate attempt to keep myself from falling into my locker. Sadly, this failed as another wind from inside my locker started to pull me. With the combined forces working against me, I fell forward. The inside of my locker grew in size to the point that I fit. There's no bottom to it. This left me to wonder where my school supplies are. Where am I heading? Did I miss the school board turning my locker into a bottomless pit? If so, why me? Why the mute kid? Oh yeah, I can't scream or make any noises to protest them. Go figure.

The sensation of falling appears as my stomach lurches in an uncomfortable way. My hair and clothing is flapping. Yep, this is the sign of falling from a high height. I should know from the vast amounts of roller coasters in which I have ridden when I was younger. I wonder if this is really a bottomless pit. How long have I been falling? Will I crash into the hard surface of wherever this pit leads to? Will anyone notice? I bet Brad won't. He tried to get rid of me on so many moments. I just got in between him and my mom living a happy childless life. My dad would care. He wanted me to live with him. I remember visiting him a month ago. I remember the giant smile on his face when I arrived off the airplane. He held a sign up that read my name...just like one of those limo drivers that crowded the airport. I remember writing 'dad' on my whiteboard. Dad never cared if I could speak or not because he believed that I would when I'm ready. I love my dad, and I can't die like this. I can't let myself die without him ever knowing what happened to me. That would be the worst thing to do to him. Tears stung my eye as a bright light appeared. Looks like this is where I break every single bone in my body then die a vile death. The light consumed me as everything faded to black.

Okay, sorry that I cut the chapter there. I know that it seems like a short chapter, but I thought that it's the perfect place to end it. Next chapter, we'll find out what happened to Josh. We also get to see what our favorite heroes, the Bladebreakers, are up to. I promise to write again soon, but please review to tell me what you think. I don't mind if you're writing tips/critics as long as they do not involve cussing me out/insult me to the point of tears/etc. I have had those things happened to me, and they are not pleasant at all. Thank you all and have a nice day!

-Ori out!-