Chapter One: Save Me

I woke up in a cold sweat. I was hot, but the air in my unheated room was as cold as a freezer, my body shivering from the effect. I threw off my thin sheet, it falling to the unwashed floor that had blood stains on it from the previous inmates.

I quickly sat up, breathing heavy and blinking fast, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim light of the moon the shone in through the three metal bars above my bed, the only thing close to a window that I saw at my stay. I took my shaky hands and ran them through my short dark brown hair, trying to calm down. Why was I flustered? What happened?
Then, I remembered. I was having the dream. The dream that kept me up at night, full of hatred and abhorrence.
It was the dream where he beats me.

I remember the dream almost as it just happened in reality. I climbed that ladder up the main building, trying to out run Hopkins. Trying to lead him to where I would be victorious, where I would prove who the real king was. But, instantly, I could feel in my gut that something wasn't right as I continued on. He was dodging all my obstacles, all my traps. But, I expected that.
What I didn't expect was him to start gaining on me.

The whole way up the trapped course that I had made, I was ranting. I was trying to make him feel how I felt. I wanted him to feel the excitement of what was about to happen on the roof.
I knew he wouldn't live to tell the story of what happened on the roof, which gave me a rush of adrenaline to continue quickly up the building. It was a very twisted happiness, something I knew wasn't supposed to make me feel good to think of him dead.
Yet, it did.

As we got up to the roof, I lost it, unable to hold back. He was just standing a few feet away, watching me.
He was ready to hurt me.
I, on the other hand, was ready to kill.

He waited for me to begin the words I had planned to say as his final goodbye. The last words he was EVER going to hear. I had planned to tell him how much nobody liked him, how much everybody despised him. But, I had a quick game changer. I felt this anger I never knew I had start pouring out of me.
I looked at him with my head held high, and I yelled, "The thing is, if I win, you're just another punk! You win, and you'll be sent even quicker for beating up the Head Boy!

Thunder struck down as I spewed the words at the fifteen year old boy, who by first glance would be seen as innocent. He was going to understand my anger, my hate, and my pain. I was going to make him.
He looked at me and flung his arms out and stepped close. "Why'd you do it, Gary!?"
I gave a smile. I could feel my adrenaline coursing through my veins. It felt better then what I normally felt, which was the freedom of the medication that I was planned to be on and purposefully skipped.
It felt like pure sweet exposure.

I paused for a second and I returned back with, "Because I can."
I growled, putting my palms in front of me and bent down a little for effect, "Because making little people like you and the MORONS that run this school eat out the palm of my hands feels great!"

I thought about my words for a brief moment. Being in charge of idiots, being their ruler, being the Head Boy, it felt like a dream. Something I had been planning for years after years before I went to sleep and stared up at the ceiling. And now, it was coming true, James just being a liability.

The whole school was in chaos trying to murder each other, the principal was tied up, and my rival was right in front of me about to meet his destiny. Everything was going better than I could have dreamed of.

Jimmy stepped closer, but not by much. "But I never did anything to you!"
I could hear a hint of mercy in his voice. It's almost like he knew what was going to happen next.
I fired back with, "You would've if-if I had givin' you the chance!"
I could hear my words becoming slurred. My weak body was starting to slow down. Maybe it's from skipping gym class? Maybe that pervert coach was teaching something my body actually needed.

I screamed suddenly, "Face it! I'm smarter than you!"
But, unlike what happened in reality, in my dream he didn't say anything. I had a huge grin on my face.
I, Gary Smith, had stumbled the "AMAZING" Jimmy Hopkins!
I laughed evilly and loudly, not able to control my happiness any longer.
I asked in a teasing manner, "What's a matter, idiot?! Have nothing else to say?! Can you not admit that I am superior?!"

Then, from behind Jimmy, came a voice that was familiar. "Gary, it's okay."
The voice sounded shaky and unsure, almost as if they were surprised by their words. I instantly stopped laughing. I could feel the breeze moving my uneven hair as we stood several feet up on a slick roof. The voice sounded like I knew it, but I couldn't place my mind on who it belonged to. I swallowed and let my guard down slightly, asking, "Who said that?"

The owner of the statement moved up in front of Jimmy. Jimmy didn't move or dare say anything, his head remaining down and eyes staring at his dirty white sneakers.
The owner of the voice was Petey. He was about five feet from me. His eyes looked scared like normal, but held a very soft expression within them. His mouth hung slightly open as the rain drenched him, his clothes starting to stick to his small body. He looked up at me and calmly whispered, "Gary, its okay."

I didn't understand what he was saying at that moment. I heard the words, but what was the meaning?
I narrowed my eyes and hissed, "What? What are you talking about you idiot?"
Peter stared into my eyes and gently assured, "Everything is going to be okay. You don't have to do this."

I felt my face get hot like it did before I started to cry. I looked away, not wanting to give James the satisfaction of showing even a hint of sadness or any expression besides anger. "Do what? What am I doing, moron?"
I already knew the answer, though. It was a pain inside of me that I had knew about for a long time. The actions I was causing really didn't have to happen. I was just hurt and lashing out. Why was I hurt? Several reasons.
From my parents abandoning me at Bullworth, my father being very physically abusive, being ignored by the other children, underestimated by the adults, having idiots running the school- it all quickly added up inside of me, causing a bitter hatred for the world.

Petey took a few steps closer. "You don't have to be this way. I am here for you, Gary."
He grabbed my right hand and held it, his fingers interlocking mine. He repeated softly, "Gary, its okay."
I looked at the hand that held mine, but remained silent as my head screamed for me to let go and become angry like normal.
I started to cry, something I very rarely did.

I held on to his hand and bent down on the gravel-cement roof. I let the tears go, not thinking of the quiet Jimmy that stood a few feet away. The small boy bent down next to me, attempting to show comfort. He hushed, "Gary, look at me."
I looked up sniffling, still feeling the tears stream down my wet face. I gazed into his light brown eyes. He smiled gently and promised, "I will take care of you. Don't worry about Dr. Crabblesnitch o-or the cops. It's going to be okay. We can do this together, Gary. We can explain to them that you are sorry and didn't mean it. Everything will be okay."

I wanted to get up and yell at the boy and start tearing into him, to tell him that it's not going to be okay and that I would be dragged away from my life at Bullworth and thrown into Happy Volts, knowing that that is where most kids who were hopeless went to.
I can't describe why I wanted to do those harsh things, despite the pure kindness he was showing me.
But, instead of letting my anger get to me, I let myself fall into his weak arms. I sobbed into his blue vest and pink undershirt as he held me. I felt like a six year old, yet I didn't stop or try to refrain.

I managed to get out the shaky words, "W-What about Jimmy?"
I looked up with my teary eyes. I noticed Jimmy sitting at the top of the ladder, his feet hanging over as he slumped against it, watching the rain pour down.
Petey ignored the question. He just cooed quietly, "Sh . . . "
He hugged me tighter and petted my wet hair."It's going to be okay."

That's where the dream always ends. I snap back to reality and I get up from my back breaking metal bed. I feel the cold concrete against my dirty bare feet, wishing I was wearing my worn gray socks.
I walk over to my steel door and I start banging on the bars in frustration. I start screaming like a mad man, all of my bottled up emotions desperately trying to escape my rotten mind in any way possible. After about seven minutes of the constant racket, I hear a orderly say to another, "Cell block C, room 34."
A bored orderly on duty walks to my door and yells, smacking his flashlight against it, "Smith! Quite down!"
I start screaming louder and hitting my fist harder at the door.

I refuse to back down.

The orderly cusses and yells for assistance. Two men in their forties walk over to my large rusty metal door.
One of them has a needle with a sticky blue liquid inside, prepped and ready for use. Orderly number one opens the door to my cell and I try to make a run for it. He grabs me by my shoulders before I can make it out the door frame, my body weak and unable to fight back. I am screaming as loud as I can, but I realize something strange.

I am calling for Petey.

Petey: The boy I tortured.
The one I mercilessly tormented.
The one my heart cried for.

The orderly backed me against the hard gray brick wall and the guard with the needle followed next to me. He stuck the needle into my arm and drained the fluid in my veins as quickly as he could. I screeched and struggled, trying to break free, though I knew it was worthless.
They then dragged me over to my rickety bed and laid me sloppily down on it, not caring much. I felt myself losing my awareness to my surroundings as the mystery liquid started taking affect. I was slipping into darkness without control.

But, before I was gone completely, I could see Petey clearly standing next to my bed as the guards left. He glowed slightly, like a angel would. He wore his school outfit and a calm smile. He bent down slowly, placing his left hand on my forehead. The boy whispered quietly,

"Gary, its okay."

I faded away into the darkness, my eyes closing helplessly.