Chapter Four

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'Damn, this is even worse than the last one,' I think, remembering Mom's cold words that would raise several red flags with any normal person.

I once again crumple the paper and use a few of my precious minutes to think of another story to write before deciding on one that involved both my parents, which I title "Mom and Dad Protect Me From Bullies."

I have always been a smaller child from what my father always told me. He said I take after my mother in terms of size, however, as my mother always pointed out, I take after my father in terms of coordination.

Basically both of the worst traits from both of my parents were merged into 80lbs of pre-teen anxiety, and nowhere was that more obvious than in gym class.

When Mom and Dad first came to The Islands from New Asia, they were without jobs, money, friends, or family to fall back on, so in order to maintain their insane training regime, and to keep enough money saved to keep us alive, we moved into a dark, run down apartment in the city of Montoya.

The city itself seemed like its buildings went on forever, both in distance and in height, and still somehow gave a person the feeling of having nowhere to go.

It was basically a prison for those deemed poor or useless, many working as literal slaves for the few rich people who made the upper portions of the city their homes.

But, as bad as the city itself was, with its dead bodies littering every corner, its junkies constantly asking for change, and its strange men who complimented small children in a creepy way, the public schools were even worse.

Since the kids were mostly from drug addicted homes in gang infested areas, it went without saying that their school life reflected that.

Every kid in those hallways were three times my size and looked like they had already been thrown in juvie a few times, not that were was really such a place in Montoya. It was more of a slap-on-the-wrist, don't come back, kinda experience when dealing with the police, which were as drugged up and corrupt as everyone else.

I kept my eyes down, my words picked wisely, and my presence relatively unknown...that was until one day in gym.

I was minding my own business in the corner of the inside basketball court, when I noticed two pairs of eyes on me. I looked over to see Michael and Michelle Mcallister walking toward me with their usual shit eating grins painted across their faces.

Michael leaned against the wall, blocking any escape from the right, while Michelle blocked my left.

"Hey, slant eye. You got any cash for me and my brother?" Michelle sneered in the usual heavy Old Australian accent that was common among native Montoyans.

As she spoke, I could smell what I could only assume were drugs on her breath and clothes.

"Yeah, she does. Damn slouchy bastards have plenty of money from taking all our hard earned jobs!" Michael scowled, leaning his face uncomfortably close to mine.

"I don't have any money," I responded and it was true, especially since I had been one of the few kids to dress out in my blue shorts and white shirt for class and had left the few dollars I had in my gym locker.

"Oh, don't play dumb, twiggy, just hand over the cash nicely," Michelle threatened, grabbing my collar and slamming me firmly against the wall.

She was a chucky girl who always seemed to be dressed in camo clothing even though she didn't seem to be the outdoorsy type.

"Our daddy is a big time cop, so what we say, you do. Got it?!" Michael snickered.

He was a much smaller boy than his sister, in fact, he was almost smaller than I was, but his size didn't really matter since Michelle did all the work and threw me to the ground, crushing me under her big fat butt.

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