Zach Meets The School Bully
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Elijah Beattie, Grade 5
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Short Story
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2012
“Zach - WAKE UP!” mum bellows.
“Okay,” I scream, dragging out my uniform. It is a dull grey number, BORING.
It doesn’t inspire great thoughts of my new school – Cambridge Public School.
I quickly get dressed and race downstairs to feast on breakfast.
“Hurry up! Get in the car!” Mum demands.
I buckle myself in and I picture what my new school will be like.
Screech! The car comes to a stop and the door flings open.
As red as a beetroot I stumble out of the car.
“Goodbye honeybunch,” Mum yells (EMBARRASSING).
I cautiously walk in the gates of Cambridge; it’s crowded. I make my way through the long corridor and see a collection of thugs laughing at me outside a room labeled ‘Detention’. I plod forward, brave faced, but as our paths meet I am tripped over and they start punching me before running off cackling.
“Ouch,” I mutter under my breath.
Picking myself up, I slowly climb the stairs as if I am destined for death and arrive at my new class just before the bell. I sit in the only seat not taken - next to the kid who started the attacks in the corridor. He is an ugly brute, the usual type – scruffy hair, two chipped teeth and a head filled with a gooey substance not dissimilar to green stinky vomit. I don’t make any eye contact and he grunts as I sit down – his communications skills are obviously limited.
The teacher walks in, “Good morning.”
Everyone replies ‘Morning sir,” like robots.
He approaches my desk and introduces himself as Mr Grimwood. He requests I stand up and informs the class I am new. A speckled kid called Paul Wicket volunteers to take me under his wing. Mr. Grimwood drones on and on about the First Fleet. His nostrils flare out when he speaks and I reckon he is a distant relative of some fire-breathing dragon.
Finally! The bell rings for lunch. Everyone salvages their food from their bags. I race out to the playground making my mind up to go on the swings. As I rush over to be first in line something stops me. It’s the huge boy from class - in fact I think he isn’t human he is possibly a troll who has tricked the Principal. He snatches my triple choc-chip fudge brownie that I was really looking forward to eating.
I gather up the courage and find my voice; “Give it back!” I plead.
“NO!” he booms like a clap of thunder.
I wail whilst he stuffs it in his cavernous mouth. He smugly opens his jaws, showing me the crumby remains. Suddenly, a revolting, diseased ridden pigeon plunges wildly upon my foe, pecking rapidly at the miniature morsels.
A grin gradually grows across my face as the cowering thief whimpers. The pigeon, satisfied takes flight, leaving a final footnote… a white, stinky poo-bomb on his head - KARMA.
Paul comes over: “Zach, you have met the school bully – Frank."