The expression of my sadistic tendencies, hope you like it.
Any feedback is appreciated.
*****
I knew it was a bad idea to take a shower at this time, I was just asking for trouble I should've gone home and used my own but instead I had the brilliant idea to use the changing room showers. Now here I am with the guy who has made my life miserable for the past 5 years staring at me with pure disdain in his eyes, what I did to earn such emotions I will never know.
I was close to full blown panic as my avenue of escape was cut off by the blonde haired, blue eyed hulking 6'2 mass of pure muscle that is Jackson Summers, the star athlete of Black-ridge high school.
Looking at Jackson didn't even get me hard like it usually did, it just goes to show how bad my fear of him was at this moment and it only increased with each slow step he took towards me.
"What the fuck are you doing in here little Luke?" He glared at me while he talked through clenched teeth.
Jackson was not happy to see me. That became even more obvious when he rushed me, all 220 pounds of him shoved me into the concrete wall knocking the wind out of my body. Crumpling to the ground I lay there gasping for breath while Jackson smirked at me, his eyes looking at me as if to dare me to get up and fight back.
As I lay on the ground my thoughts flashed back to the first time I crossed paths with my tormentors, yes, tormentors with an 's'; there wasn't just one there were many of them. One of the worst ones and the one I met at the same time as I met Jackson was a small girl named Sarah Middleton.
I first met Jackson and Sarah 5 years ago at a birthday party for a girl named Lisa, the odd thing was at first we became friends we spent the entire birthday party together talking and playing, we even planned to get together the week after and hang out. The next time I saw the two of them Jackson had shoved me over while Sarah verbally abused me.
I never did discover what caused the terrible twosome, a moniker that I personally dubbed them with, to dislike me so much but that was in the past and the fear I am feeling was in the present.
Muttering under my breath I stammered out an apology, "I'm sorry ma man I uh ... needed to shower it was only supposed to be a quick one."
"I don't give a fuck what it was suppose to be, you're here using athlete's showers man a pussy like you doesn't deserve to be in here." The disdain he used while he spoke those words cut into me, pushing me into a dark place. He kept on berating me "look you piece of trash, no one and I mean no one wants to see you around, do the world a favour and go do drugs or something." It hurt, it really hurt. "Why couldn't you turn out like your brother and sister, they're cool but you're just trash. Your parents really fucked up raising their youngest child, turning him into a wimp and shit."
The blood drained from my face when I heard him call me a wimp, the things he was saying before were bad but that word was the worst, it was a word I was very familiar with, it's the word that caused me to snap. You see as I was growing up my mother was the dominant figure in the household, she constantly berated my father for everything he did, if he got home late she spent an hour yelling at him for wasting the meal she lovingly cooked for him even though all it took was a minute in the microwave to make it edible again it didn't matter to her, being late wasn't the only thing but it was the one that set her off the most.
One night after a particularly bad verbal thrashing from my mother my dad stood up from the dinner table and started to walk out she lashed out one final time at him, "hey, did I say you could leave, what you gona walk away from your wife you pathetic wimp?" It felt like the room had a massive drop in temperature dad's back was ramrod stiff, my mother knew that she had provoked a reaction and was ready for their confrontation to continue but she didn't get what she expected when he turned around.
In a deep emotionless voice my dad spoke to her evenly, "if you ever call me that word again I will pick up the chair you sit on and beat you with it." Mom was so shocked she had no reply, never had her husband threatened her like that and she knew he would do it too she could see it in his eyes.
Life changed after that confrontation mom became more loving and attentive to dad she looked at him as if he walked on water. The bad part was she directed the verbal abuse she use to use on my father to me, anything she could find fault in would result in abuse and she was particularly fond of the word wimp, that is why I picked up a distaste for the word. My siblings took notice of the interplay between her and myself, they took it upon themselves to continue on the family legacy of being cruel to me but only at school, they left the rest to my mother at home.
