Not the american averageMature


 That prick, whatever his name was, had it coming. Yes it pissed me off he thought he owned the place. Yes it pissed me off that he tried to beat the shit out of me, but that's not what made me snap. Him calling me a faggot would be what triggered that, that's one of the worst insults you could E-V-E-R call me, this due to the fact that I was gay, and I’m sick of the term being thrown around so much and it is very offensive.

 I've been the way I am since I was 11, I was attracted to boys more then girls, and there was nothing I could do about that. But I didn't fit that stupid stereotype laid out by society, I didn't run around with a purse all of the time talking in a high voice with a lisp, that just wasn't me. 

 The teachers were rushing us towards the office, having to haul 'the king' to the nurse first, so his boo-boos could get all patched up. They wanted to know if I needed to go in too and I shook my head and they walked me into the office and told me to take a seat and the principle would be with me shortly.

 I sat there for about 5 or 10 minutes, (not certain, because I was more focusing on my pissy thoughts then anything else, including time.) Finally, the principle, Mrs. Ozman came out and told me to come into her office so we could  talk. She was in her mid 30s, had short, curled up red hair and wore a hell of a lot of make up for someone so young, but the make-up couldn't hide the pissed off look on her face.

 "So, Mr. Morrison, I see you're having a rather... eventful first day." She said, a hint of venom in her voice, " I'm sorry Talon was quite so rude to you, but you didn't need to make a scene out of it." I looked her in the eye as if she was crazy (which isn't that hard to think when you look at her, or talked, I mean the woman just screamed hillbilly deluxe).

 "I did it in self defense," I said, "He was trying to do me harm and I saw it fit to defend myself, I don't go around picking random fights." She glared over at me, crinkling her nose in disgust, as if what I'd just said had let out a foul scent into the air.

 "Listen here city boy," She said, voice now less then a snarl, "I don't like you, I don't like where you come from, and I don't like your attitude." She continued as she picked up the phone and flipped through a large book.

 "Talon's parents have done a lot for this school and this community, and Talon's an okay boy," She said, now dialing numbers into the phone, "You just provoked him, and on your first day too! I'm sure your father's going to just love this conversation!"

 That's when every bit of color drained away from my face. My dad already hated me, already pointed out every flaw to me and never said a nice word to me, I didn't need to be giving him another reason. Further more I didn't need him telling me all this over a fucking phone at school.

 Mrs. Ozman smiled as what she misconstrued for guilt and fear of punishment rushed across my face. She finally began speaking into the phone, very formal, explaining every detail of what I'd done to my father. My arm grew weak and heavy as she sneered, handing me the phone, "He wants to talk to you" was all that she said.

 "Caleb, we'll discuss this matter when I get to the school, I'll be there in an hour to pick you up." His voice was cold, his words monotone but holding that same threat within them they always held whenever he talked to me. "I'll make you feel worthless, because that's what you deserve". I nodded, gulping as I handed back the phone to Mrs. Ozman.

 She looked a bit puzzled at just how long we'd been on the phone, and as he repeated what he'd just said to me her eyes almost shot out of her head. She began to rattle off school policies and how what he wanted to do wouldn't comply with them. Deep down I gave a small, dark laugh, it was like trying to watch a demon argue with Lucifer himself, the greater crushes the lesser and takes what he wants.

 When she'd stopped rattling I could hear the phone hum with the deepness of his cold, monotone voice and you could almost see icicles begin to form on Mrs. Ozman's ears, she became very still, as my father loosened his words, and whatever he had told her, she agreed to with a simple "Yes sir".

 "Caleb," She said softly, putting the phone back down, "Go back to class and your father will pick you up soon." I nodded, pushing in the chair and feeling the weight of the world come crashing down onto my shoulders, and heart again.

The End

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