I was looking over the story and you know what it's lacking? Character description! And ahh... (I agree with you beyblade-ice-queen) at one point, this fiction was VERY serious. There was hardly a joke anywhere. Then it was kind of spiced up a bit... so it is serious/stupidly funny. But time for more serious stuff now...

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Part Nine

Wiping off the last few specks of water, I stood back and admired my newly cleaned trombone. It shimmered in the light. Such a wonderful sight... shed a tear.

I gently placed my trombone on the floor and went to the sink to wash my hands. I turned the tap on and let the water run through my fingers. My pinkies were painted black, the rest were left untouched. It was my thing.

I actually stole that idea from a Robert Jordan book, except their nails were painted turquoise and the characters shaved the sides of their heads. That wasn't quite my thing.

Looking up, I quietly observed my image in the mirror.

~ Yikes ~ my blond hair hung limply just below my earlobes. It was a lot shorter in the back then the front so it always gave the illusion of being extremely messy. Today it looked worse then ever. My brother's friend had cut it. She said it looked cute. I thought it made me look like a freak. I kind of liked it.

~ Crap ~

There were black streaks under my blue eyes. It might have been mascara, it might have not been. I don't remember putting any on this morning. I looked exhausted. My face was very pale from the constant lack of sun. I am actually more of a night person...

An old cut over my left eyebrow had reopened and small droplets of blood were beginning to surface. I had gotten the scratch from one of my knives a couple months ago. I knew that if I didn't do something, I would have blood dripping down into my eye, and Paige would laugh at me. More. It was not the first time, and it would probably not the last, that I would need yet another Band-Aid.

I finished washing my hands and started to dry them with one of the cheap paper towels they provided. I tossed it into the garbage can and then tried to see if I could find a Band-Aid in one of my many coat pockets.

~ Yes! Success! ~

I tore the wrapper open and placed the Band-Aid onto the cut. Turning on the tap again, I used some water to smooth my hair down a little.

~ There. Now I looked at least half normal. ~

I left the mascara as it was, picked up my trombone, exited the bathroom, and ran into trouble.

~ Oh shit crap damn fuck! ~ It was Gavin Nelson, or Spinner, I guess his friends call him. I call him asshole. He always picks on me. I guess he saw me enter the bathroom and decided to wait for me to come out. I looked down the halls and didn't see anyone. We were alone.

~ Shit ~

"Well. What do we have here? Skipping class?" he asked in that annoying little voice he has. You know the one where he always has to think about the words before he says them... His arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning against a wall. He was smirking.

I tried to back into the bathroom but he leaped out and grabbed me. Despite towering over people and looking very big and strong, I have zero upper body strength and he knew it. He knew it from the times he had done this before.

He escorted me to the utility closet. I was clutching my trombone. This was bad. This was real bad. Sure, he had punched me a couple of times before, but this was when his friend Jimmy was around. Jimmy usually stopped him from going too far. And I usually didn't have my trombone. If anything happened to it... I didn't know how I would get the money to fix it.

I sighed as we approached the familiar door. I started to enter, but he stopped me. He signaled for us to continue. I was puzzled. I kept following him. We reached the door for the boiler room. It was locked as it always is. But Spinner pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. While he was searching for the right one, I looked around and still saw no one. No! There was some movement far down in the hall. I started to cry out, but a slap from Spinner over the head stopped me.

Looking back up I saw it would have been fruitless. It was Jimmy Brooks and Marco Del Rossi, both friends of Gavin Mason.

Spinner pushed me into the boiler room and waited for his friends to arrive before entering. I quietly placed my trombone in a corner of the room. When I looked back at the door, both Jimmy and Marco had arrived. They all entered and shut the door behind them. Marco locked it.

~ Oh crap. ~ I tensed up. ~ No one could just burst in. The door has a lock. The utility closet didn't. That is why they brought me here. ~

Spinner laughed. "Relax Freak, we are not here for that." I locked my knees. Last time he had said that, I went away with a broken arm. I had only recently gotten the cast off.

"It is just a business transaction Jacket-Freak." He continued. "Jimmy..." he gestured.

I focused all of my attention on Jimmy. "Word is you know where you could find us some..." He looked over at Marco, and Marco nodded. Jimmy continued, "... pot."

Yeah. Sure I knew. My house, or more specifically, my brother the dealer. I thought it would be better to deny it at first, and then I wouldn't have to deal with these people any longer. I shook my head no.

Gaining more confidence, Jimmy nodded. I saw too late that he was looking behind me. My knees gave way as someone elbowed me in the back. Hard. I fell to the ground. I was on my hands and knees, looking down at Jimmy's shoes. When I was listening to Jimmy, Spinner had snuck behind me just for this very reason.

He asked again. "Get us some pot." He added, "Freak"

I shook my head once more. I heard Jimmy sigh. Then the kicking began. I curled up into a ball.

Marco said, "Hey, watch out for the face! You don't want anybody to know about this do you?!?"

The kicking continued. Jimmy yelled, "Stop!" And it continued. Jimmy tried once more. "Spinner god damn it, stop it you mother fucker!" There were two more final blows and then the barrage finally stopped. Marco swore.

Jimmy said, quietly, "I am going to ask you one more time, and if you still say no, I will let Spinner lose after you. And not just now, for the rest of our years here, I will let him beat the shit out of you. I am the only thing stopping him right now. Did you know that Freak?"

I felt I better comply, so when Jimmy asked once more, I vigorously nodded.

"Good." Was all he said. There was a moment of silence. Someone was crying. I realized it was me. Tears were streaming down my face.

"Awe man, Spinner." Marco said. "Why the hell did you go and do that shit for?"

"Hey, I got us the pot didn't I?" Two more kicks in the stomach. I heard the door being opened. They were leaving. The door shut. I was all alone. Again.

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I lay there for about ten minutes before I heard the door knob rattling. Someone was coming. That someone was probably Spinner, come to finish the job. I started crawling for a corner. The door opened. I looked over my shoulder. It was Marco.

"Hey." He said. I stared. He approached me. I cowered back. "No, I am here to help you." He walked up to me. I was looking up at him. He held out his hand. I grabbed it. Marco Del Rossi helped me off the floor when I felt like shit. I would have to remember that. He helped me into the nearest bathroom.

"Are you Ok?" He asked as we entered. I looked around, nobody else was here.

"Yeah." I said gruffly.

"Here." He said, shyly handing me a bag. I looked into it. It was a gym uniform. "You can wear these for the rest of the day." I wondered why. Then I looked down and saw my pants were splattered with blood and I couldn't imagine that my shirt was much better under my jacket. I think when Spinner was kicking me, my own knife had broke through the fabric of my jacket and started cutting me.

~ Wonder why I didn't feel the pain... Aren't I sounding gothy now? Loser.  ~

"Ok." I went into one of the stalls as Marco waited outside patiently.

I stripped down, even though there was a strange guy outside of the cheap make-shift wall. I looked and found the source of the blood. It was a nasty looking cut six inches long going down my side. After using toilet paper to clean up a lot of the blood, I put on the uniform.

"I don't think they will fit very well though, you are a lot taller then me." He was right. The shorts were extremely short and the shirt was very baggy. He had wider shoulders then me, and I had longer legs then him. I bundled up the clothes I had been wearing and put them in the bag. They were all bloodied up. I put my jacket back on and left the stall.

When he saw me, he was kind of disappointed. I think he had wanted to see me without my jacket. Yeah. Right.

 Going to the sink, I started cleaning up my face.

"Here, let me." Marco said. He took the wet paper towel I was using and gently started to wash my face.

"Thanks." I said quietly.

Marco laughed. "It is the least I can do for allowing those psychos to beat you up. It was very wrong and I am very sorry." He stopped for a moment to look at me. He was telling the truth. Then he continued to clean. "There. That should about do it." He said after a couple of more minutes. He pulled his hand down from my face. And then he kissed me.

I was shocked. "Craig!" I whispered.

"Oh." Marco said, disappointed. "Oh" And then he left.

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Oh boy, am I evil or what? This is fun! It may have not been the best thing I've ever written, but ahh... I've been distracted with... things. Bright, shiny things.

(Major plot twist SOON!)