Bryson Scott, 14 years old, lanky with shaggy brown hair swore he could just beat the kids at his school.
Some kids just smacked all his stuff to the ground and then threw a wad of paper at his head, with that annoying middle school laugh.
Not to mention, in Art he could NOT make this stupid clay animal, of course him being the only one, the teacher acting like he was retarded.
Maybe he was.
His math teacher last year used to call him and a few other students idiots.
He didn't know, just another insecurity to add to the list.
He had a horrible day, being made fun of, and pressure
He did not like his generation. Everybody was an idiot, who spread gossip, stayed with the current trends, and listened to some of the worst music he ever heard. And some of them hadn't even heard of Judy Garland, or some of the other classics. He couldn't believe how stupid these immature brats were.
That's what I get for being mature for my age, he'd think to himself.
He just hated school in general, he was so easily pressured.
Mostly by things like Art and Gym. Ugh.
And always getting made fun of, not the most popular.
Skinny, too.
He could hardly think with all the stress of grades, and wondering if he would be made fun of or not.
He barley had any friends.
He had like two in real life, and like 5 on the internet.
But even then they weren't the friends he wanted.
They weren't the loyal, helpful friends, not the real ones.
Not like Scarecrow, Tin Man, or Lion. Not at all.
And there comes Oz again, helping him when he needed it most.
He'd always day dream of it, god it was amazing.
It was one of the only things keeping him going.
He was suddenly kicked out of his thoughts when he saw his sister, Debby, finally arrive to pick him up.
His mom worked at a Day Care, unable to pick him up, and his dad, an electrician.
It took her a good 50 minutes, 50 mintues of his time wasted.
He sighed as he went into the car.
"Hey.." He said softly.
"Hey." She replied even more softly.
She had been crying.
He decided to not push it.
It was probably about her boyfriend.
Or one of her friends.
Who cares, she barley had time for him or anyone else besides her friends or boyfriend, anyways.
He looked around during the drive, his headphones in.
Tennessee was... eh... pretty boring.
He then arrived home.
"I'm gonna go now.." She mumbled.
Bryson sighed, not surprised in the least.
"Alright, see ya."
She nodded and drove away.
His dad was already almost home, considering how long it took her to pick him he got home, he was greeted by his black and white beagle dog, Lucky.
He smiled as Lucky whined, jumping up on him, excited to see him.
He pet him, hugging him, his dog was truly his best friend, much like Dorothy.
He loved animals.
Shortly after, his dad came home.
To be honest, his dad scared him.
He could tell his dad was dissapointed by his scrawnyness, being unathletic, and nerdy.
And the fact he didn't hunt, his dad loved hunting, he tried it a few times and hated it, but kept quiet so his dad wouldn't freak.
He once killed a deer and he felt so guilty he quit.
After, his father would insult him every now and then, and on a few occasions beat him.
He remembered a few years back, the words his father yelled.
"You need to toughen up!"
"You're a dissapointment!"
He always held resentment because of that.
To put it blunt, he did not like his father.
"Sup." His father greeted rather angrily.
"Not much..." Bryson replied.
"Give me 5 dollars out of that." His dad demanded, throwing coins on the table.
"I need to go buy a lottery ticket..." His dad mumbled.
Bryson's heart pounded out of his chest.
He couldn't do it under this much pressure, he stopped asking for help on Math homework because of how angry his dad got.
He couldn't do it with him pacing the floors.
"Why do you want me to do it?" Bryson asked.
"Busy!" His dad holored back.
Bryson sighed and tried his hardest, but he couldn't do it, his dad coming back and looking at the coins.
"Can't even do first grade shit..." His dad mumbled. "Why don't you come and watch football with me, after I come back, huh?"
Bryson nodded, his whole body shivering from what just happened.
His dad came back, and he watched it with him, hating every moment.
Later, his mom came home.
His mom was a lot better, even though sometimes she had a quick temper and was a bit of a Jesus freak.
"Hey little man..." She greeted, obviously exhausted from the Day Care.
He talked with his mom for a bit and got up from his dad.
His mom then reached out to let Lucky out, without a leash.
He hated it, but he wouldn't protest, he knew his dad would get mad.
He went in his bed, Lucky still wasn't back.
It had been a good 30 minutes.
He usually came back already.
When his dad left, he asked his mom if he could go and find Lucky.
After a few minutes of calling for him, he decided to go outside and look around.
"Lucky! Lucky!" LUCKY!"
Lucky still wouldn't come.
He heard his dad coming back and he ran back into his house.
He paced around the room, sweating, and almost to tears, his anxiety kicking in, trying not to have a panic attack.
This always happened when Lucky ran off, but usually he wasn't gone for this long.
Then, to make matters worse, his parents started aruging.
And it was intense.
And it was buildling.
It was the same stuff they always went on about.
He couldn't take it, no Lucky and the yelling was horryifing him.
He walked into his room and peaked in his closet, looking at his old Oz collection.
These were the times he needed Oz the most.
Times like this.
He'd just think of the wonder of it, and things would look up.
He went upstairs, of course turning his laptop on as usual, doing typical nerdy things.
He decided he'd make an edit of.. something.. not sure what yet.
The yelling of his parents was getting too much to handle at this point.
It was more intense than usual.
They were cussing, throwing things.
It was never, EVER this bad.
He shuddered and put his headphones in, turning up the music.