The Movement

Chapter Three - Part 2

RINGGGGGGGGG!

The class bell interrupted Troy’s daydream.

He gathered his belongings slowly and strolled behind his scurrying classmates out of the class. After stopping at his locker again, he headed to the bathroom. Troy heard sniffles coming from the large handicap stall. It sounded like crying, or a bloody nose. He pushed at the door. It was locked. It didn’t budge.

“Are you alright in there?” asked Troy, concerned.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” replied a sharp voice.

“How many of you are in there?” asked Troy, now more curious than concerned.

“Just the two of us. I’m helping my friend. Leave us alone,” said the annoyed voice.

Curious, Troy peaked through the small gap in between the door and stall where the hinges were. It was two older boys, carefully and meticulously scraping at something into thin lines on top of a large textbook.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Troy with one eye closed.

“Beat it, kid!” yelled the voice, growing with anger.

“I just want to know what you guys are doing in there. I find it odd there are two of you in the same bathroom stall together. Should I ask you your sexual orientation? I don’t care either way,” said Troy, sarcastically.

“Listen, kid. If you don’t shut your trap and get out of here, we’re gonna kick the crap out of you right here and now!” hissed the angered voice in a raspy, whispering yell.

“Go ahead. Kick my butt for asking why there are two boys locked in a bathroom stall together,” snided Troy in defense.

The bathroom stall door swung open, and a much larger kid grabbed Troy by the shirt collar and pulled him into the stall. The door slammed shut behind him. The other kid, much smaller in size, latched the door shut behind them.

“I told you to shut the heck up, didn’t I?” said the large kid in a hardened voice, squeezing Troy’s shirt collar even tighter.

Troy looked at him in the eye, then at the other kid. Troy looked over at the textbook balanced on top of the toilet seat. Four white streaks of powder were carefully divided into neat lines, like a farmer’s crop of corn. The smaller kid took a small rolled up piece of paper and bent over, situating its nozzle at the beginning of one of the streaks of white powder. He sniffed with what seemed every ounce of power he had in his body, making a rather loud sniffing sound that echoed throughout the entire bathroom.

“What was that?” asked Troy, growing fearful.

The smaller kid turned around and wiped his nose with his wrist. He sniffed quickly and repeatedly, much quieter than the first large, loud sniff.

“None of your darn business, kid,” he said, leaning towards Troy and his larger friend, still with a firm grip of his shirt collar.

“Who do you think you are, coming in here and asking us questions? You trying to start some trouble?” he said, moving his face closer to Troy.


“No, no. Not at all. It seems you two are into some trouble though. I’m not stupid. I know what that is. It seems you two are the stupid ones for doing that, let alone in a school bathroom,” said Troy sarcastically, forgetting he was still clutched by the collar.

Troy was still pressed against the bathroom door by the larger kid’s extended arm. The smaller kid wound up and delivered a blow to Troy’s ribcage.

“Ugh!” yelped Troy, pulling up his feet in cringing pain.

“Now, ask me again what we’re doing,” dared the smaller kid.

Troy cringed his face in pain.

“I know what you’re doing. I said I’m not stupid. You guys are the stupid ones for doing that in the first place. You think that makes you smarter or something?” he pleaded.

The larger kid pulled Troy in towards him and slammed his head down on the toilet seat. The smaller kid bent down towards Troy’s compressed face, smashed down by the larger kid’s large hand.

“Now, smarty, sniff this line or we’ll both kick the crap out of you right here and now. And don’t think to yell for help. The janitor gets this crap from us, so she’ll side with us if you try to tattle,” he snarled through his clenched teeth.

Troy’s face was being smashed onto the toilet seat. Blood dripped from his nose and face. He didn’t know from where exactly, but his whole face hurt and throbbed together in agonizing pulses.

“I won’t do anything you guys say!” he shouted in a panic.

Troy kicked and screamed. The larger kid wrapped his large hand around Troy’s face and mouth, muting his screams for help.

The smaller kid’s face was now only an inch from Troy.

“Listen, punk. Either sniff this line, or we’ll bash your head into this seat until you freakin’ die. Understood?” he said.

Troy moved his head slightly, as if he tried to nod in compliance. The larger kid lifted up Troy’s face off the seat by pulling his hair. The smaller kid situated the paper roll into Troy’s nose.

“Now, snort this snow. You’ll feel all better in no time, I promise,” he said with a devilish grin.

Troy breathed heavily through his mouth, down and away from the three remaining lines on top of the textbook.

“Do it! Now!” demanded the larger kid now holding Troy by the hair.

“Okay!” whimpered Troy. He took three short breaths, trying to control his panic.

He thrust his hands from the bathroom floor to launch the textbook from the seat, sending the book into the air. The three streaks of cocaine flew up into white dust clouds, vanishing into the air while the book crashed onto the floor beside the toilet.

Stunned, the two kids looked at each other.

“What the-!” yelled the smaller one before stomping on Troy’s head with his boot.

The two kids began kicking and stomping Troy to the ground. Troy refused to take the beating without attempting to get up, leaving his face and ribs open for powerful stomps as his arms unsuccessfully posted his hands on the ground to push himself up, only to be beaten down again.

After one minute, the two kids ceased the kicking and beating. Breathing heavily, the two kids walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.

“He’ll pay us back for that,” said the smaller kid as stall door swung shut with a bang.

Troy still lie on the ground writhing in pain.