DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Well, actually… considering how little JKR has told us about the lovely Tom Riddle's past, I own a little. A little, but not a lot. The rest if JKRowlings. Go read her books. :D

A/N: Mwuhahahahahaaaaa, new revised version of my beloved My Friends And Other Enemies (hereafter known as MFAOE). Enjoy, m'dearies!

'Riddle! Riddle! Hey, Riddle Freak! How's your mother?'

'Yeah, Freak! How's your mother?'

'Where's your dad then, Riddle?'

Tom marched onwards, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. Any normal person would've noticed the danger signs long ago, yet the Gang always kept in step with him and continued taunting.

The rain was getting very heavy. The Gang had all pulled up the hoods of their neat regulation school anoraks up and over their neat haircuts. Tom's dark hair, however, was dripping. He blinked it out of his eyes, although that might've been his tears, dripping unnoticed down his pale cheeks. The Gang, however, did notice, and crowed in delight.

'You crying, Riddle Freak?'

'Cry baby! Run home to your mamma, cry baby!'

'But riddle don't have no mother, do ya riddle? Hey! I'm talking to you, riddle! Don't walk away!'

Tom closed his eyes tight. Just ignore them, Lucy had said, Just ignore them. But it was so hard. And what if they followed him? Which they always did. How could he just walk away? Especially when they taunted his mother.

'Don't they teach you any manners in that Freak Place, Riddle?'

'That's why your mam left ya, Ridd-'

Tom spun around, grabbing the boy by his throat. All the Gang gasped, and as one backed away. The unfortunate boy struggled, eyes bulging. Tom smirked, and tightened his strong grip. There was a strange Look in his dark eyes, and a shiver passed down his spine. If he wanted to, he could kill the boy.

'Mention my mother again,' spat tom, his face dangerously close to the others and the Look still remaining.'and you'll be sorry.'

'Let James go, Riddle!' yelled one of the Gang, taking a step forward. Tom spat at him, and threw the boy, James, onto the cold stone floor. James gasped, clutching his sore throat, but his eyes were dark, and he looked angry.

The sense of power of Tom's had gone, only to be replaced by fear.

'Right,' James hissed, scrambling up and starting towards the smaller boy. Tom, having more brains than the rest of them, and far more practise, ran.

'Coward!' yelled the Boys, jumping up and down in rage. 'stupid shitty coward!'

Tom closed his eyes tight, dodging any stones they happened to throw at him, of which there were many (all of careful aim). He seemed to have a natural talent for running away, and right now was using that talent to the best of his ability.

Soon the shouts faded, and the heavy rain splattering against old cobbles was the only sound, save toms still pounding feet. But soon they too fell to a halt. Tom sighed, sitting down in the squelching mud, and put his wet head in his wet hand. It was cold, and he was late Home. And tomorrow (and here tom felt sick with fear), tomorrow the Gang would make him Pay.

But that was life for Tom, or Riddle Freak as he was more commonly known. Run and hide was a 'game' he had always had to play. That was the way life seemed it always would be. And tom felt scared. He was trapped in a dark, dark tunnel, where people threw stones at him and insulted his poor dead mother, and there was no way out. And that was what scared tom.

The thought that he might never be able to get them back.