In the mind of Nazz

by zman123

A short story, detailing Nazz's inner thoughts and emotions, about her relations with the others in the neighbourhood she lives in, about the deep pity she feels for the poor Eds, who suffer horrendous abuse each and every day from the evil, maniacal and devilish monster known as Kevin, and others just as bad (Rolf, Kankers, Johny, Jimmy, Sarah) and how she has had enough of it.

1. grief and sorrow, memories of the past

chapter 1: regret and sorrow, memories of the painful past.

I hate it here. And by that I mean, I hate living in this neighborhood. It makes me so sad, and its so unfair and cruel.

The way some poor people in my neighborhood are treated is simply downright barbaric, and the way they are horrifically abused is enough to drive anyone with a heart to tears of sorrow. Yet no one cares, no grown up, no kid. The kids here are bullies, cruel sadistic bullies who bully for no other reason than their own sick enjoyment, and that breaks my heart and brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. Simply thinking about it makes me sick with grief.

Those 3 victims of this horrendous abuse, and oppressive regime of bullying are non-other than those poor, innocent children, named Eddy, Edd and Ed, or simply, the 3 Eds.

All they ever wanted to do was fit in, and yet all they got from the other kids was abuse. Horrendous, nonstop abuse. The other kids don't see them as people who deserve respect, instead the bullies see the Eds as doormats there to be kicked around. To the bullies, the Eds are nothing but pieces of rubbish which clutter up the place. And every time the bullies see the Eds, I know that another beating is coming to the Eds. I know that the bullies will once again subject the three poor dudes to another merciless thrashing. The bullies, they'll kick at the Eds and punch at them as hard as they can until they get bored and leave the Eds lying on the ground, blood gushing from their broken noses and their faces horribly bruised and badly scarred. It really does bring me to tears, how badly the Eds are beaten up.

And what did they do, what did those 3 innocent guys do to deserve such oppressive treatment, just what did they do to deserve any of that? Nothing, they did nothing but to try their best to be as kind and respectful to the other kids as possible. And what thanks did they get? None, they got none. The other kids not only refused to acknowledge them as worthwhile people who had a right to be left in peace, but they even bullied them and taunted them endlessly simply because they were vulnerable targets who could do nothing to defend themselves. No one cared about the Eds, not even their parents and it was that weakness which the bullies preyed upon maliciously.

The bullies were popular and respected, while the Eds were not, and there was nothing they could do about it.

I shudder with cold fear and regret every time I see another one of those beatings, and run home, locking the door to my bedroom, before letting my tears rain bitterly down my cheeks, in a flood. And every time I see those 3 victims of the neighborhood being beaten up so brutally I can almost feel the pain of what it feels like to have your jawbone very nearly fractured and gushing out of your shattered, broken nose a gallon of your blood. It truly is horrific, and the number of sleepless nights I've had after seeing those beatings is something I've lost count of long ago. Those beatings really did scar me, and I doubt that even if I live to a hundred, I'll ever truly forget the horror and utter shock I felt when I saw those beatings for they really are that bad.

My name is Nazz by the way. Nazz van Bartonschmeer ,if you want my last name too. It was rude of me not to introduce myself from the start, but I was so engrossed in feeling pity for my three friends that it slipped my mind to make a formal introduction. When it comes to hair, some people are blacks and some people are redheads, yet others are brunettes. I am a blondie, a blue eyed one at that. My hair isn't too long considering the fact I have an fe in fromt of male, only about chin length. Any longer and it would just get in the way.

My parents are blondies too, and kind and caring ones too, even if I rarely got to see them .I really did wish the Eds had parents as nice as mine. I have a mom and dad named Razz and Bazz respectively. I once had a twin sister named Jazz (notice a recurring theme yet?) but tragically, after a traumatizing childhood incident which I would rather not go into detail about she was abducted and I never saw her again. I wonder where she is now, is she still alive?, and does she still remember me?. Probably not. Poor Jazz. She and I were like two peas in a pod, and when my parents were away and they often were, she kept me company and as long as she was around I was never lonely. And now with her gone... I really am so very alone.

The neighbourhood I live in is a set of houses called the "Cul de sac", a suburb which makes up part of a recently constructed town known as "Peach creek". Perhaps calling it "the cul de sac" is misleading, as it is but one of several similar suburbs in peach creek. Near the "cul de sac" is the high school I and several friends in the "cul de sac" attend, aptly named "peach creek high".

The other kids in my neighborhood, are bullies. Cruel, evil and spiteful bullies who like nothing more than seeing the misery of the victims who they abuse on a day to day basis. There's Rolf, or "wreck it Rolf" as I prefer to call him, and others too. Like Johnny ("Jawcrusher Johnny"), Jimmy ("Jerkface Jimmy") and his girlfriend Sarah ("selfish Sarah"). And what made Sarah perhaps even worse than the other bullies, was the fact that Ed (one of the Eds), was her brother and always did his best to care for her like a brother should, he never abused her or tormented her and always let her have her way yet despite that she still harassed him endlessly. She abused her status as the favoured child of the family to abuse Ed, knowing her parents would always believe the best of her because they spoiled her rotten, she really was a spoiled little brat.

Yet the worst bully of them all, was a psychopath and monster who had no regard for the well being of others, only himself. And that psychopath, that horrible and evil psychopath was a boy called Kevin, or "killer Kevin" as I preferred to call him behind his back. One word was all that was needed to summarize Kevin and the awful person he was. That word was "jerk" and Kevin really was a "jerk" and a selfish, inconsiderate one at that. Kevin cared about no one, only himself. And yet everyone in the neighborhood seemed to admire him more deeply than anyone else. He was the "cool and hip" guy everyone wished they could be.

Who wouldn't?, Kevin's father worked at a jawbreaker shop and thus this gave him access to a near limitless supply of delicious, juicy and simple divine jawbreakers. Jawbreakers were the ultimate treat that everyone in this neighborhood would do just about everything to get at, myself included. They tasted, simply divine. Eat a jawbreaker and you would never want to eat anything else. Jawbreakers really were the one thing in life worth living for. Life without them, would be like bread without butter or jam and in other words no kind of life at all. Yet Kevin had an infinite supply of this booty, and was able to give it out or hoard it as he wished.

Kevin's garage was choke full of these edible pieces of treasure known as jawbreakers, and Kevin had it all to himself. This garnered him the respect and admiration of everyone in the neighborhood, everyone wanted to get to know him as a homie and he could always expect unwavering popularity from everyone in the neighborhood (save the Eds who he bullied relentlessly) who always fought for his attention. Everyone wanted a share in Kevin's jawbreaker stash, and so did I, and so we all did our best to show how much we valued his friendship and good will and tried our best to flatter his ego. Those who Kevin regarded as his friends were given a share in that lovely delicious stash of jawbreakers he always showcased in his garage which was of course securely locked to deter anyone from breaking in. And everyone did their best to stay on his good side and never to disappoint Kevin in the slightest out of morbid fear that by losing his friendship, they would get no more jawbreakers and as I said before, life without those utterly divine sweets would not be worth living for. And thus, Kevin got the treatment of a celebrity. a king and the unwavering good will of everyone in the "cul de sac". And all this despite the fact he was nothing but a selfish, inconsiderate devil on the inside.

Kevin could treat the Eds any way he wanted, he was the head of the sports team already at school, and it didn't take much therefore for him to become the self-appointed ringleader of the "cul de sac". Being the head of the sports team at school and being the hall monitor were both positions of higher honor in our school "peach creek high" and thus the other kids regarded him as a leader, a celebrity and a figure of authority. This was of course in addition to the fact Kevin had a huge stash of deliciously edible jawbreakers stored in his garage because his father worked in a jawbreaker factory and made Kevin the most popular kid around.

As the top athlete of the school, Kevin was capable of pulling of tricks with his bike and skateboard no one else would dream of doing, and secured victory in practically every sport game he played both at school and outside of school. Everyone, myself included wished they had skills like him. No doubt about it, Kevin was talented when it came to sports and that made him a legend in the eyes of the neighborhood. Yet I never liked him much, I thought he was a show off and that if he really was such a respectable person, he would be more modest about his achievements and not rub in in the face of others so much. And mostly I thought, as a senior student of the school and a respected member of the friends circle in our school, he should be setting an example for helpless outcasts such as the Eds and not belittling them in front of everyone else simply because he could and because he knew no one would object on account of his popularity.

But very sadly, I was never going to say that to his face. For when Kevin began his cruel torture of the Eds since they arrived, he never stopped torturing and harassing them endlessly. It appeared Kevin had nothing better to do than to embitter the lives of the Eds as much as possible, for whenever the teacher's back was turned in school he would immediately resume his torrent of abuse towards Ed, Edd and Eddy. He called them names like "dork", "worthless" and "stupid" and a whole lot of other horrible names I'd rather not talk about. He stole their lunches too, and stole their lunch money, starving them at lunch without a care in the world. One time in the cafeteria in our school, Kevin waited for the Eds to sit down to eat their lunches before signalling the others to immediately begin chucking food at them. The Eds were so badly stained by the cruel and humiliating storm of food pelted at them that they had to run to the toilets to wash the stains away. But by the time they came back, Kevin and his gang of bullies had already eaten all of Ed, Edd and Eddy's food and not a scrap of food was left for them and they had no choice but to gnash their empty teeth and to sob uncontrollably as they spent the day without food. Poor dudes, it wasn't their fault they had to endure such horrendous abuse and mistreatment.

And what made it so much worse, was that I watched on in horror and shame, and did not lift a finger to stop Kevin and his gang on account of the sad fact there'd be hell to pay were I to even lift a finger against Kevin. Kevin had enforced a rule on the neighborhood and the school which the other kids who admired him followed without hesitation, Kevin's law and decree was that anyone found showing the slightest sign of sympathy for the "Ed dorks" which were his sworn enemies, would be considered a traitor and subjected to a cruel, merciless and barbaric thrashing. And after seeing some of the horrible things Kevin did to Eddy and his friends, the fear and terror I felt was enough to keep me in line with everyone else.

I could not rebel against Kevin for if I did, not only would it mean no more tasty jawbreakers, it would also spell my doom and demise. Kevin would come for me as well and I would lose every scrap of popularity and respect I had among the others. I would turn from being the loved, adored and well-liked cheerleader I was today, to being a hated scumbag and I too would become another victim of Kevin's causeless vendetta. The thought of having my face horribly bruised and my nose bleeding daily was a thought so chilling and gruesome just thinking about it caused me to shudder with cold fear and terror. And so, I could but walk past the Eds each day as if they did not exist, unable to show them even the slightest sign that I deeply cared for them and the unfairness of their situation. And if Kevin led a manhunt to capture the Eds so he could bully them, everyone in the neighborhood had to join him, else they would be viewed as a traitor and I knew very well how Kevin dealt with traitors. And I could but join him, because to do otherwise was suicide for me.

I had been bullied enough in my life, life had already dealt me many hard blows and left me scarred for life. That was when Eddy's brother still lived in the "cul de sac", and if there was one bully in the world more cruel and abusive than the monstrous Kevin, it was Eddy's big bro. He really was a nasty dude. Big and muscular and very gorilla like, with a malicious grin on his face and a cold, emotionless look in his hard eyes. He abhorred children, he detested girls in particular and most of all, he hated me and resented me fiercely. While he lived in this "cul de sac" we were all defenseless against him, he was a grown up and we were kids and could do nothing against him but pray to god though god didn't seem to be listening. He was our superior, and we were powerless to rebel against him as he was our senior.

Though he tortured us all, each and every one of us whenever we happened to cross paths with him, he picked on me in particular. He was sexist, and sexist to a great extent. And because of that, I was the one he placed first on his list of victims. You could say that while he placed a contract on everyone in the neighborhood to be bullied and targets of abuse , he placed a priority contact on me. He really had no remorse attacking a young innocent girl like that. And whenever I ventured out of the safety of my safe-house as I inevitably had to, though terror and fear made me extra cautious about my surroundings and I did my best to spot any sign if Eddy's brother was nearby, it was useless.7

He always found me and when he did, it was a simple choice for me. Pay up, or be beaten to a pulp. In this way I very rarely had any money for lunch and all day long almost every day my empty stomach would rumble with hunger and I sobbed uncontrollably with envy and hurt as I saw the kids who had avoided the wrath of Eddy's brother in the canteen munching away at delicious delicacies. And all I could do was gnash my empty teeth in pain and sorrow.

A jawbreaker for me back then was but a beautiful dream that would never come true. Eddy's brother robbed me of all the money my parents gave me and threatened me with worse than hell if I told anyone what he did to me. My parents were of course far too busy to care about that bully anyway, they had "more important" matters such as unemployment or the hole in the ozone to attend to and they were very rarely at home on account of the fact their jobs involved long trips away. They very rarely even called me and when I tried to call them, they never picked up on account of the fact their job left them very busy.

There was therefore nothing I could do to stop Eddy's brother terrorizing and torturing me each and every day. And each time his gigantic figure loomed over me, I could but pray that offering my money to him without a fight would mean he would leave me alone and that would be the end of it. His gigantic hands looked as if they had killed before and that they could easily and gladly kill again. The savage grin he faced me with reminded me of a cannibal who had found its prey, and struck terror into my soul each time I saw it, which was often. I could but tremble each time he came to me, and continue to shake and shiver uncontrollably in cold sweat as I surrendered my money to him without a fight. Could things get any worse? I thought to myself one day as I sat outside the lunch hall with no lunch. I really wished I hadn't thought that.

It was saint valentines day and as I wandered home, relieved that for once Eddy's brother had not seen me today, it happened.

As I walked down the playground, towards my house not caring about the cloudy and dark sky or the lack of human company. It happened.

It happened. Strong hands grabbed me and clamped me to the floor and through fearful eyes, I saw none other than the bully that terrorized me relentlessly each day. Yet this time, something in his cold, empty eyes seemed far more intimidating than usual. Something that showed his temper today was particularly bad. The horror I felt as I uncontrollably gazed into those devilish eyes was only matched by the anxiety which his loud and furious breathing filled me with. He was not just a evil, unsavory brute today. He was an angry evil, unsavory brute today. And that worried me more than anything had ever worried me before.

"Where's the money" he demanded in the voice of an impatient headmaster about to discipline a misbehaved pupil "gimme all your cash, right now!". I fumbled desperately into my pocket hoping to get this over with quickly only to realize with indescribable fear that I had left my wallet at school in my classroom. "God, help me" I pleaded silently as I brought my hands back out of my pockets, empty handed. "I said, where's the money!" he bellowed loudly as he shook me hard and made my vision swirl "where's the bloody money?". "I,I haven't got it" I stuttered nervously hoping he would let me go if I was polite to him and did not upset him "Please, I haven't got anything, I swear, I'm so sorry".

"Sorry doesn't cut it" he yelled, in a voice that almost pierced my ears. "Gimme my money right now, or you'll be sorry you were ever born".

"Please" I begged "Please, I don't have it with me today, I'll pay you double next time I promise , please just, don't hurt me".

"GRRRR!" he growled in the voice of a savage animal "How dare you lie to me, how dare you refuse to obey me, how dare you!".

"Please, I'm really sorry, but I really don't hav.." but my voice was cut off as the next second, he had his huge hand around my neck, holding it in a firm grip that almost suffocated me. "You, bastard!" he growled angrily at me "You dirty little bastard, how dare you refuse to pay your taxes".

"Bad little girl" he stated disappointingly,"only bad children don't pay their taxes, and now you're a bad child". And the next second, he seemed to lose all sense of control. First he tightened his grip on my neck with his huge hand and loudly bellowed "I WANT MY MONEY!". That scream was so loud I felt my ears would never fully recover from that awful sound. And without warning, he swung his fist into my face with his free hand.

I felt a sheer and utter sense of pain and urge to black out as blood poured out of my broken nose, onto my lips. But he wasn't finished yet. He began to hammer several more times into my face and I felt sheer agony as he smashed into my face several more times and could not help but scream out loud as he began to dig his nails into my face and to slash cruelly at it as if his hands were claws or talons. It was as if a wolf or a lion was digging their claws into the flesh on my face, and when I began to scream uncontrollably in pain and agony, he put a sock into my mouth to choke off my screams. It truly was hellish.

My eyes and teeth were graciously spared, but he wasn't done yet. When he had ripped away several chunks of skin from my young and innocent face, he went on to twist at the muscle in my leg. He twisted and twisted until I felt a sharp and hellishly agonizing sensation of my leg being broken. Then he broke my arms, and mangled the muscles in my arms so badly, that I felt as if they were on fire. I knew that though my legs and arms had not been torn off my body, the damage was done.

By now I was in terrible pain and agony as I choked on the sock, unable to cry out in agony and grief as I asked myself why me out of all people deserved this inhumane treatment. "Tell a soul what happened" whispered Eddy's brother menacingly into my ear, as he released his iron grip on me and removed the sock from my mouth "and I'll smash every bone in your body before I choke you to death, so just keep quiet and I'll make sure you live to see another day". Then he slapped me hard in the face, squeezed me hard in the neck almost choking me once more, before turning away, leaving me to lie breathless and in horrific pain.

My parents, Razz and Bazz found me later, barely conscious and unable to shift a muscle due to the horrific injuries I had endured. "Who did this to you Nazz?, who shot you?" demanded my father angrily. "N,no one daddy" I protested desperately "N,no one shot me". Eddy's brother's words had made me very afraid and I felt I had to lie in order to have any chance of staying alive to see another day.

What happened next, I'd rather not go into detail about. Suffice to say that I was rushed to hospital and stayed there for weeks on end, in terrible pain. I had nightmares each time I tried to fall asleep in the hospital, and would wake up each time sweating all over. Yet it was at least several weeks before I could finally walk again, and I had to undergo several operations to repair my utterly broken limbs, and even had to have plastic surgery to fix my broken face.

But it wasn't my leg or arm that took the brunt of the beating. It was my heart and soul. I had lost all sense of confidence in myself and had become a shy, reclusive coward. I remembered how the sock Eddy's brother had stuffed in my mouth that day choked me, and I felt that each time I tried to speak I was still choking on that sock. I felt as if my vocal chords would never cooperate with my brain each time I tried to speak. For speaking had become difficult to manage now. Not because Eddy's brother had strangled me too hard that day, but because my psyche was permanently scarred and I had become a paranoid, shut in. I felt as if I couldn't trust anyone anymore and that my life was on a course I could never escape from.

Even when Eddy's brother left the neighborhood at last to find a job elsewhere, I could never get him out of my mind, he would stay in my mind forever. And forever haunt my dreams. He had traumatized me beyond repair and the damage was done.
When I see the Eds each day, being throttled by Kevin and his gang of wicked bullies, I know what its like for them. I was once in their shoes. I knew what it was like to be thrashed brutally by cruel and wicked bullies through no fault of your own. I knew what it was like when you tried to be a good person who did everything right and yet the world still punished you for it. Yet I did nothing.

I did nothing because of the cold, incurable paranoia left by that beating on saint valentine's day had left me traumatized for life. And if I was never kicked around and punished like that again, it would be too soon. I never wanted to endure anything like that again, and who could blame me? If I so much as showed the slightest sign I cared for the Eds, my life would once again become the nightmare it once was. And I would only end up getting a one way ticket to the place I swore I would avoid for as long as I lived.

The emergency room in hospital. I never wanted to go there as long as I lived. I had been there once and trust me when I say, it was painful.

If I so much as refused to join Kevin when he went to beat the Eds up, he would do horrible things to me and when he had knocked me out cold, my body would be thrown next to the Eds and I would join them lying on the cold and hard pavement.

Saint valentine's day. It was once a beautiful phrase and the day I looked forward to each and every day and a day of love and happiness and joy. But since the "incident" I grew to hate it. And every time saint valentines day came again, I would bury my head in my hands and sob deeply and sorrowfully for half an hour when I woke up.

"Saint valentine's day" to me, had become a day of betrayal. A day where good and innocent lives were ruined and a day where rivers of blood came gushing out. I no longer even called it "saint valentines day", to me "saint valentines day" no longer existed. I had renamed it. To me, there was only "saint valentine's day massacre" a day to be both feared and dreaded.

"Saint valentine's day massacre". February 14th each year.

Simply hearing about it made me utterly sick and appalled. It brought back nasty memories I wished never to remember again, and gave me nightmares I'd really prefer not to even think about.

This fanfiction is now finished, please comment to speed up production of sequel (for details of sequel see last chapter) Any comments would be much appreciated and you would be an epic person.