Ginger Kid

A story about a boy named Ginger Kid

In the classrooms of Canterbury High school, there exists a special kind of silence. Not one of boredom, or of learning, but of death.
It was early November when it happened.
I was walking to my locker that morning, content with myself for completing last nights essay in record time. I was sure no one, not anyone in history of the world had written an essay of such quality.
It was outstanding, if I did say so myself.
I then, opened my locker, to find it empty. It was usual, having my things stolen. They where hidden, possibly, in the boys bathroom, in stall number 8, the broken one.
How they knew my locker combination is a hard thing to imagine, since the guys who did this possibly weren't very smart due to major brain cell damage while playing football.

I wasn't popular, no body really liked me, and I was weak and non-physical. My red hair struck out in a crowd, and my pale skin pegged me as a ginger kid.
I was formally nicknamed Ginger Kid by my fellow student body. Not to mention I was a 6'6 foot tall freak.
Ginger Kid, that's my name.

So, as usual, I closed my locker, and headed for the bathroom
I was a far walk from my locker, and I didn't get why these boys want to lug all my textbooks from the first floor on the east wing, all the way to the closest bathroom in west second floor. It was sheer stupidity.

Finally, after retrieving everything I pilled it into my locker, just in time for homeroom.

I happened to be in Honours Everything. I was a genius, a child prodigy! In addition, I was only in 9th grade.

Usually, I let the football team's 'joke' slide, but not today.
I felt relentless; I wanted them to get in trouble. They where treated like Gods in school, but less then commoners.
Therefore, I did what any freak of nature in high school would do... I tattled.
After homeroom, I ran to the office, filing my complaint. I even had a note that they stuck in my textbook stating “loser”, and they spray painted my binder with “Freak”. The secretary told our principal, and the boys on the team where called down.
I looked at then with a blank expression as they walked into Mr. Martin's office. They looked at as if I was a punching bag, and their next victim. I ignored them.

They came out later, the team coach last. They all looked at me as if I were an animal, reading to kill me.
The team captain, Seth stopped when he came to me, saying in a slight whisper, “I'll get you for this Ginger Kid.”

I paid no heed to his threat. I was a hero to those who where bullied by those people.
Besides being called a snitch by those of the higher social hierarchy.

By the end of the day, I heard the joyous news. Seth had been kicked off the team! Oh happy days! It was over, their rein of terror!

I was packing my school bag to leave for home, and I was lucky it was Tuesday. I would catch the bus that would take me home, and then, get on my bike, and go to the library to work on the project that was due in a couple weeks.

I had just gotten outside (Having staid late), when I was pulled and carried to the back of the school, near the dumpster.
I looked up at my attacker. It was Seth.

I felt someone's fist fly into my stomach as the rain started.
“I told you I would get you!” He jeered. Another fist to my stomach made me breathless.
I fought back with all my might, kicking some shins in the process.
I formed my hand into a fist and let it fly. It came into contact with someone's nose... Seth's nose.
“You're dead now Ginger Kid!” He shouted. I felt someone kick me in my stomach, a fist to my face, another kick, yet to my face, and then I was pushed down. I was bleeding all over. Another person kicked me as a tried to get up.
“Let him up Jimmy.” I heard Seth say.
I staggered to my feet, only to be hit by something hard a circular.
I staggered some more, then fell, my mind slipping into blackness.
...........................................................................................

When I woke up it was morning. I looked at my surroundings. I was still at the garbage and the rain-washed away my blood. It didn't have time to go home and change so a settled for going as I was. I looked okay. There wasn't any blood on me, thank goodness.
I walked into school and no one noticed me, not that they did anyway.
No one came to ask what had happened when I'd been carried away. No one would, because Seth must've passed around a message: Don't mess with him or you'll end up like Ginger Kid.

Days passed, nothing changed. No one looked at me, and when I got home, grand-ma ignored me. Mom called, but grand-ma just stood their talking to Mom, not asking if I wanted to talk to her (My mom was busy working in England as a lawyers assistant).

It was seven days after the fight, when my homeroom teacher looked directly at me, shook his head, and wrote something on his clip board.

I was back at home, Grand-ma and me watching T.V when an announcement came on in the middle of Coronation Street.

The News Reported was standing beside a lake, fire-men behind him, digging something out of the water.
"Today, local fishermen found something in Lake Whitney. It was the body of a teenage boy, roughly 16 years old with red hair. Doctors report that the boy had been dumped in the lake 2 weeks ago. They also say he had a wound on his head. The murder weapon was found with the boy, a round circular pipe about a foot long. If you have any information about who this boy is, please call the police. Here's an artist rendition of what the boy looked like."
A picture flashed on the screen, a boy who was skinny, had red hair, and looked remarkably... Like me.

Now I knew why no one noticed me, why no one cared. I wasn't here anymore.

Ginger Kid was dead

Reviews

[Samantha Evans]

Dude it's a great story! I remember reading it on Skyrock.com.. Lol. My new one i will give to you another day but for now. Congradulation~

-Love

Samantha Evans