new story i wrote tonight, comments appreciated
Billy was a high school student, a sophomore to be exact. He attended a secondary school with grades from seventh up to seniors. This was the problem he thought. Going from sixth grade to seventh grade was an accomplishment. You changed schools. And you are supposed to graduate from ninth grade into high school, not just continue in the same school with the same teachers. Everything was not meant to be the same he thought. High school was supposed to be a right of passage; one shouldn’t have to be around junior high school kids anymore.
This was driving Billy over the edge. To start, Billy was a trouble child, he grew up in a broken home. His mother left when he was little leaving his father to attend to him and his three sisters. Billy’s mother was what one would call a tramp. Let me correct that, she was a swinger. A swinger who just plain liked to fuck. She didn’t care about the actual swinging part, you know changing partners. She just wanted a taste of everyone.
Billy’s father was no saint himself. He had a hardy crack habit, a small coke addiction, and a drinking problem. He also liked to smoke it up on football nights. Billy’s father was also notorious for being caught with hookers. Needless to say, Billy and his three sisters grew up to be very fucked up kids. One of his sisters died in a drunken car crash when Billy was 12, she was 15. Another moved to New York at 17 when Billy was 11. And the last sister was in juvenile detention hall for attempted robbery at age 16.
The young Billy was the best of the four kids, never getting in trouble. He just kept to himself, collected weaponry for a hobby and read comic books. In his spare time he would steal his dad’s drugs and flush them, after he cut himself some for his use. He hated his father doing them, but couldn’t help but love to do them himself. One can only watch it so much before they attempt it.
Billy’s favorite drug of choice was cocaine. He liked the idea of sniffing things, and using a razor blade to cut lines was always fun he thought. After he would cut a few lines, he would slice a new line in his arm for each line he did. It was like a trophy mantel to him. The slashes on his arm where done the same way a prisoner marks his days on the prison cell walls. At current time he had about 42 slashes down the back of his left arm, starting at his shoulder. He hoped one day to get to the other arm, preferably before he was 18.
In school Billy got good grades in all subjects. Intelligence just came natural to him. He could read a chapter of a text book in less then 2 minutes. Math was a breeze, way ahead of kids his age doing collage level math. The only thing that kept him going in school was his dream of one day becoming a teacher. Deep down he knew this would never happen because he wouldn’t live to see 30 he thought. He knew by then the drugs would take over and his life would be over, only a shell would remain fending for hits, like his old man.
With all his intelligence eh knew drugs where not good for his mind, but they where his only escape from the hell of his life outside school. In school life was hell as well for him. Being the smart kid that was to poor to have nice clothes is never a good thing. Its not that he would get picked on, it’s just that he would get ignored. He had no circle of friends like to kids at Columbine High School that went on a shooting rampage. There where six of them, there was only one of him. The only friend he had was the comic books he read. Living his life through the worlds of Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne, and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. As you can tell, he read a wide variety. For regular literature he stuck with authors he thought where visionaries. Authors such as Neil Gaiman, Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, and Alan Moore. As you can tell, there is strict British theme to the type of books he read. He didn’t plan it that way, it was just that American authors had nothing interesting for him to read. At least not any American Authors he had found. Then again, he had not put a lot of effort into searching for one, since he was not a large fan of Americanism.
For music he chose to listen to techno/beat music as he called it. He liked to be able to play mp3’s of his computer at random and have it be one continuous rave party in his room. The beats helped him to think. helped him to come up with stories he would write about the destruction of the Earth, about the deaths of people at his school, or famous people. His favorite story he had written was about the Columbine boys. He wrote it as a 1960’s super hero comic book, even drew it accordingly.
He did not agree with the reasons why the boys went on a rampage, but he did agree with the school shootings in general. He just wished they where more specific on their targets, and not just ‘jocks.’ So what the jocks didn’t like them. Did they really want to be in that crowd? They had no friends? How many of them where there? He didn’t have that many friend’s or any, he only had himself. And he wasn’t about to go on a shooting rampage to kill people who didn’t like him.
This got him thinking. Their should be a pamphlet describing the benefits of a school shooting, if conducted properly. He spent three weeks researching medieval laws, recent laws, all laws he could find on public execution. On mental patients, the rules and regulations regarding them. The level of metal retardation person could have before they where of no use to society.
Week four he started writing his pamphlet. Calling it ‘The Benefits of School Shootings’ with a sub-title of ‘How weeding out the incompetent can make education better.’
Week five, he prints 500 copies of his pamphlet and sets them in various places around his school for people to pick up and read. He had put his name on it since he was not ashamed of what he had written; in fact he was rather proud of it.
The initial reaction to his pamphlet was one of expelling him from school. This of course came from the ignorant people who did not read the pamphlet, just read the title.
You see, inside the pamphlet was reason to have stronger testing in school. If a student is failing a class, they should be reprimanded. There was no excuse to fail a normal high school level class. He thought there should be three main levels for each class. If people couldn’t make it in the normal level, they would drop down to the first level. If they couldn’t make it there, they would be kicked out of the high school and sent to a labor/trade school since education was obviously not doing them any good. If the normal level was too easy for you, you would be bumped up to a higher level class so that you would be challenged accordingly. And in return if you failed a quarter in the upper class, you would drop back to the normal class.
He felt that is this sort of class structure was implemented, with more emphasis on education, and less of outside activities of any sorts that are non educational, would result lessen need for school shootings. If everyone was challenged accordingly to their intelligence, they would not need to pick on the other kids. The smart kids would not be bothered by the ‘jocks’, because for the most part they would not be in the same level as them. And the smart jocks wouldn’t pick on them anyways.
The few people who took the time to read it all the way through, read all of his points, and facts about his plan agreed with him. For they where facts, and his points where valid. A system such as this would really impact the educational system, and in turn make education more important then sports, or outside activities.
His plan did not call for the elimination of outside activities such as sports or FBLA, but stated that the importance should be placed about 80% on school work, and only 20% on the others.
Sadly for him, the faculty did not take the time to read his pamphlet. They immediately expelled him from school for writing about the positives of school shootings. They deemed this a subject not to be discussed in school. He thought about that. Where else should you talk about it? It is pertinent to a school environment to understand all elements of it.
His father figured it was kicked out of school. Of course, he didn’t care, but felt obligated to give him a few lashings for it anyways.
The night after his expulsion, and after his beating from his oh so loving father, he decided that he would move on. He packed up what was important to him. Two pairs of underwear, an extra shirt and pair of socks. His copy of ‘Smoke and Mirrors’ by Neil Gaiman. A pad of paper, and a pen. Put all of this into his Jansport backpack, and started walking away from town at around 2:30 A.M.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, he figured he would walk until he was comfortable somewhere. On his way out of the town, he dropped a copy of his pamphlet into the mail box of a teacher that had been absent that day at school and did not get a chance to read it since he was on two week holiday. He put it in an envelope telling him what had happened, and that he would send him a letter when he finally decided to stop walking. And to please not tell his father he had any idea where he was going, or where he was when he contacted him.
For Billy, his hell was just about to be over. He had gotten out something he was passionate about, and now had left his wretched family to finally be on his own in search of happiness.