Lockout

There was an awful silence. Not the awkward silence, not the one of kids studying but the one of fright. Today was the day of the “Lockout”. Each year, some Jock would have an initiation to do. Tis had been happening for a years at my school. The unsuspected victim of the hierarchy of school was frightening. No one knew who was next, but sometimes they made it very clear.

I was considered a looser, a geek.

Much worst : A nobody.

No one knew my name. I had no friends. I was a smart kid, top of my class, literally. With a height of “6’4”, wavy blond hair, stupid bluish, greenish, greyish eyes. I stood out. I was “the freak”.

Today, was gruesome. The sun was poring in the windows of the school, I was making my way to my locker when I noticed it was crushed.

Graffiti painted on it saying “You’re Next”. A great lump formed in my throat.

A hand placed on my shoulder indicated someone was behind me. Did I want to look?

“Kid, come with me please.” The voice of Mr. Harvey rose. But I stayed in place trying to open the locker.

“Kid! Fine, have it your way.” He said, his footsteps leaving me. The laughter and giggling of the rest of the student body made me blush.

The laughter only arose.

I looked up, as I did, a big water balloon hit my head and exploded at the same moment the door of my locker opened. I was soaked, everything in my locker too. I moved the wet hair away from my face, my locker was destroyed. All my books and papers destroyed including my science, French, English and History assignments. I closed my locker with a clatter, the laughter only getting louder by now. Even the fragile kid was laughing at me. This was a new low.

As I walked away from my academic achievements with defeat, I got rammed into a locker. Then carried away into the outside lawn.

“I told you, you were next.” Liam O’Connor (a.k.a Football Captain) said in a prideful whisper.

That’s when I felt the sharp pain of crushing bone on bone sensation against my cheek.

I started trying to get away, crawling on the dampen grass. No use, I was being pulled back by a few more jocks. My school bag was tied around my legs and I was getting kicked in the stomach by Liam.

At that moment, I heard a loud banging noise. The sound of gun shot. The pain started immediately. The blood leaving my body, the rain poring hardly on my aching skin and the noise of doors opening and closing around me. I looked around to my side, kids circling me with the teachers and principals. Everyone looking at me with solemn expressions. I was dying, I knew it, but they were doing nothing to help me. Just standing there amid of all the chaotic burning, stinging, writhing pain my body was doing.

I opened my mouth to try and speak but nothing but blood spat out. This had to be the worst lockout ever. The lockout as you now know is a custom ritual the school had been doing for over 500 years. Never until this day, when I Philip Parker died here has there been such a gruesome killing. My body left on the ground I felt myself fade into oblivion of the great unknown. What to do now but to await the unexpected future.

 

-  The Story of Philip Parker.

Reviews

[Jaclyn]

I'm kind of interested to see WHY this tradition goes down the way it does. I don't quite get it. It almost felt like an initiation rather than a death. And it was interesting that people were laughing at this guy and throwing water balloons at him and stuff before he was beaten down and shot to death. Weird, really. I REALLY want to know what happens after Phillip dies. I don't think this story ends here.

Did you ever read the story about the town that stones a person to death once a year or something like that? I think it was called The Lottery. Very similar idea. Check it out some time! :)

Okay, you've got me...I'm intrigued.

[Danielle]

Good story Sam.