Hit Me With Your Best Shot - C Kelemen (top rated ebook readers TXT) 📗

Beat Me Up.

(Chris’s POV.)

 Martin Luther king had a dream, a dream that he never lived long enough to see. Abraham Lincoln lived just long enough to miss the end to slavery. A gun ended their lives as it has for many others. Some have no reason for gunning down millions of people. Then again there is always a reason but maybe we just don’t know or understand it. Thoughts like this run through my head a lot now. I open my eyes to the blinding light of  the classroom and look down to my notebook. The class was reviewing how to solve by factoring and my notes were hardly understandable.

some just said: b = - then > # r - or if d + then both -

 sometimes I wonder how I understand my notes. As I start doing the homework for tonight the bell finally rings. As I exit class I’m already getting pushed through the hallways. My locker being on the opposite side of the school always led to this plus what happened a while ago. When I reach my locker I always end up having to hide in a corner for a while before there is any space for me to get to my locker. The whispers about me still pass around the school. The few that are brave enough to actually tell them to me will be here soon. If I wasn’t a good student I probably would have left school without my books but I am a good student.

 The area finally clears and I go to my locker and open it up right before someone slams the door. “Hey loser! Why don’t you just kill yourself? I mean the other terrorists did so why didn’t you?” Mrs. popular said. Ahh, Stally the worst of the worst. Don’t let her name fool you. She could actually make you believe that it is the new trend. She liked saying she changed her name to it but I already knew the truth and I have only been here a few months. 

 The truth was that her dad wanted Stacy and her mom wanted Sally so they combined it to stop arguing. She was the image of popular, she had blonde hair so blonde it looked white in a half up half down style with braids running along the sides. She applied her makeup as if it was only to hide the layer of skin she had. I could tell what she used from my years of dance. She had on foundation, a light layer of baby blue eye shadow, a rosy pink blush, mascara, black eyeliner, and lipstick that was only slightly darker than the color of her lips. 

 “yeah pig why don’t you run home crying the whole way,” a boy named Drake said. He was the obvious jock. Six pack being showed off by the tightest shirt one could find and always could be found picking on a nerd, me included. Then Stally’s brother the soccer star Alec, his name mix was Alex and Alac I believe he got the better deal, yelled, “watch out the nerd might get you!” and all the popular kids laughed at that one. But none of that hurt as much now. Then someone shoved me into a locker and then Alec walked over to me and leaned in to me and whispered loud enough for the others to hear, “I don’t think so murderer.”

 Then my eyes went wide as I saw who was behind the group. The kids already knew this wasn’t my response to them and looked behind them to see my brother who had rage in his eyes. Most of the group dispersed except for Stally, Alec, Drake, and Ash a brown haired girl who applied makeup to hide her face and was best friends with Stally. As my brother got closer I knew his reaction would be bad and started thinking of excuses to save them from being torn apart when I saw my teacher Donne. 

  Then I knew exactly what to do. “Mr. Donne!” I shouted, “I have a question on the essay we have to do?” The rest scrammed so they didn’t get in trouble and Donne turned around and started walking towards me. I grabbed my brother’s shirt collar so he couldn’t chase the others. “Yes, Mrs. …” Donne replied even he didn’t know my name. “Christina, um… I was just wondering if you want it double spaced or not?” I questioned “No.” he answered and left. 

 I turned around and opened my locker to grab my stuff. English… I need the book we are reading. Social Studies… essay on the atomic bomb, so I need my… binder. Science… we have a worksheet to fill in so I need my… folder. Health… today is the last day so I just need to bring my stuff home. Spanish… we have work on the internet that we could do for extra credit. Math… I need my textbook and notebook. Okay that is every class, I think. I Turned to my brother, “lets go,” I told him.

 The car ride was so quiet and I really didn’t want to be the one to brake it but I knew if he kept thinking about what happened things could get worse. “Drew, It was nothing, don’t worry about it,” I breathed out.

 

(Drew’s POV)

It was not nothing, it was never ever nothing. It hurts me more than it hurts her sometimes I think, but the way others treat her is completely wrong and some of the teachers even joined in. I didn’t want to leave her alone at that school and go to college, but I was left with no choice.

“You could move closer to me you know. Mom wouldn’t mind Chrissy,” I told my sister. I have a darker colored skin than her. Then add to that I tans so easily that I become even darker. My sister, well she has a regular tan I think and a wavy chocolate brown hair color. She thankfully doesn’t wear make up and dresses appropriately for her age. On the other side she has good enough body that she still looks hot in what she wears which makes me want her with me more. I can’t protect her from the boys that come up to her in another state.  “I know but you can’t always protect me. If things get worse though I’ll go to you and follow you like a puppy dog. That a deal.” Chrissy bargained. “That is a deal. Give them hell, okay!” I said. We got home on the same level of serenity. Something that would be important, especially with the chaos going on at home. The screaming could be heard a block away.   “No, to the left not the right!”                                                 “I already brought it that way!”                                                 “The pizza is going to get cold!”                                     “We’re leaving tonight you better be ready!”                                                 “If you touch that your dead!”                                                 “No! Not the mangos!”   We both were breaking out in laughter as we drove up the driveway. “Home sweet home,” Chrissy innocently squeaked between laughter, while a smile slid up her face. I looked at her, took a breath, nodded, and answered, “Yup!” Enjoying the P’s pop.  Imprint

Text: Me
Images: Google And artist
Publication Date: 06-11-2013

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
For the person who made this picture rights to them and the BRAVE ones