Springview High, Johnny read the inscription on the signboard and managed a soft sigh.

This had actually become a daily ritual for him. Well, not really daily, but poor Johnny had had to his most loathsome activity five days a week.

I hate school, he muttered under his breath.

He often stood at the entrance of the school to reevaluate his parents' decisions. Not wise at all, he said to himself and sighed yet again.

Why ever had he been given over to such fate? He had asked that so many times, but sadly, there was no answer heaving in sight. The fate of being roused almost every morning by the buzz of his alarm clock just to come to this... this school.

What was fantastic about those forbidding walls that cast unfriendly stares on him? What was amazing about the hostility in disguise that lay inside this school? Parents just never would understand it, would they? Well, Johnny was certain there were parents who would, at any occasion of complaint, withdraw their kid from such a terrible place, but his parents wouldn't permit that.

“That's the best school in town,” was the response he always got when he pleaded with his parents to withdraw him.

Now, he had to endure the snickers and jibes he got when walking down the hallway, the all but familiar attempts to throw something very harmful at him, and the very unwanted legs that are mistakenly kept on his path for him to topple over and probably die.

The morning had been so cherry and friendly to Johnny Anders. First, he was served his favourite meal by his mother who wasn't in her usual surly huff. Possibly, Mr. Anders was inhuman with the night activity.

Then, there was that blissful moment he was offered a ride by the next door Ms. Molly. He didn't have to use the tip he was given. Now, had it not been a Monday morning, nothing would have brought him to this haunted school.

He took a deep breath and began strolling into his own hell, forgoing freedom, or so he thought.

~~••~~••~~

If there was a means of convincing one's shoes to quit making tapping sounds as one walked, Johnny would have done so a long time ago. He feared that the sleeping demons might actually awake from their nap at the sound of his footsteps. Truth is: there was no tenable reason for Johnny's fears. No one would be in school at such wee hours of the morning. Except, of course, Principal Finley. She had made the school her home. A place frightening for one was home for another.

Whatever! Johnny said at the back of his mind. She doesn't have a reason to be scared of bullies.

Blue locker after blue locker, Johnny continued his walk down the hallway, whipping his head from left to right. There were a thousand reasons to walk with precaution. There could be a dreadful being lurking behind those harsh walls and once a teen boy carelessly walking down the hallway was discovered, they would come out of hiding and make mince meat of such careless youth. Though plain white in colour, there was something very dark about the forbidding walls of Springview High; especially for a nerd.

Johnny, however, wasn't going to let his guard down and not even when his eyes caught the view of five boys... No, no, no, those weren't boys. They were men, standing a few centimeters away from him.

The men made a very grim decision to stand beside a locker that seemed very familiar to Johnny. His own locker. Five huge football players, and one nerdy, tiny, Johnny. He didn't stand a chance, did he? However, he continued walking towards the posse of football players. Not because he wanted to hope against hope that he would win in a battle of fists, but he had been in this sort of situation countless times to know that trying to run away from a gang of bullies with a wish to feast on you was just a waste of precious time and energy. His feeble, short legs would be the first things to betray him.

Johnny walked timidly to the bloodthirsty, nerd-haters that stood by his locker, praying he would be able to resist the pressing urge to pee.

The choice of black coat and pants on one of the men that Johnny was purposefully marching to portended doomsday. However, since there was no use running away, he decided to walk to his doom with feigned bravery.

“Now, if it isn't nerdy Johnny!” the one on the black coat, Dylan, managed to say between gritted teeth. Hate laced each word that came out of his mouth, and it also reminded Johnny that he would have to make out time to work out. Maybe, just maybe, that would give him enough stamina to keep these sort of bullies running behind him for a while. Just a while before they would grab him. Sadly, time was too dear to be wasted on such frivolities. Not even when all the books on earth had not been read.

“W-what do you want?” Johnny asked, his voice submissive and low.

“Oh, you want us to get this done as quick as possible?” Dylan asked, his voice sarcasm-laden. “Very nice of you.”

Dylan's four beefy colleagues began laughing, loud and throaty laughter. Dylan joined the all too hysterical giggling. Since that was the exercise of the moment, Johnny would have partaken also. However, he imagined how terrible it would be if the bullies decide to ask him to give reasons for his giggling. The response he would probably give: “I like your choice of jokes. Tasteless” would definitely be cheeky. They would have to kill him quicker than planned, so it was best he repressed such appealing urges to laugh.

“All right,” Dylan stated, grimly. “To keep it simple: just hand over the keys to this locker.”

“Why?” Jordan asked, silently chiding himself for permitting such a question to leave his lips. He knew that the more he questioned Dylan and his cohorts, the closer he was to his grave.

Dylan, seeming not to understand that his authority had just been opposed by his prey, ran his fingers through his sleek dark hair and stated, “Me boys and I have some reconstruction to do to this locker.”

Johnny stiffened and remained mute as if to say: only if you can get past me. However, that surely couldn't be what his silence meant. He knew quite well that it wouldn't end by just getting past him. He would be left with bruises that would take months to heal.

“Do you have a problem with that, Jonathan Anders?” Dylan asked, crossing his arms, intimidatingly. He fixed Johnny with his trademark mischievous smile.

What? Johnny yelled at the back of his mind. He would only dare yell at Dylan in his mind. He still had so many academic objectives to complete which would definitely be brought to an early end if he died recieving a beating from a plus-size football player. Did this fiend just call me Jonathan? he asked himself.

Johnny had made it very clear to everyone in Springview High that he wasn't quite happy being called Jonathan. Was that his name? Yes, but he didn't want to go by that. He only permitted that at home, and yes, some of his teachers still chose to call him Jonathan. However, no student should do that. Even if a bully, you shouldn't do that.

Perhaps, someday, Johnny would pick up enough courage and yell: Dylan Barnet! Although that day can only be lived in dreamland, but it will surely be insulting to call the mighty Dylan by his full name. So, why by the four points of the earth was Dylan trying to get on Johnny's nerves by calling his full name? What nerves? Rubbish! Johnny had no nerves, but still, there was something that Dylan was getting on which wasn't very polite.

Was Johnny going to do something wild to help Dylan remember that he disliked being called by his full name? No, not at all. He still very much enjoyed keeping his bones safe.

“You need the keys to my locker?” Johnny asked again. He seemed to have picked courage from somewhere.

“Oh, is this your locker?” Dylan asked, feigning ignorance, and without waiting for a response went on to add, “well, that makes it a lot better. Give me the keys!”

Johnny could feel the tingling of his feet when he heard the cracking of knuckles. Dylan's cohorts were ready to feast on him if he fell short of co-operation. Well, what assurance was there that he would evade a beating if he cooperated? There was none, so to hell with cooperation!

Johnny took a step backward, his gray eyes studying Dylan's dark ones. He was going to run, and there would be no stopping him. Even though they had failed him countless times, he wanted to give his legs one more chance to save him from these nerd-eaters. After all, he didn't commit an unpardonable sin by being a bookworm. Dylan and his likes should also try reading. It wasn't that difficult. A reading table could do a lot of unthinkable wonders. Page after page, there would certainly be a change. All students had to do was sit and read. Nothing would prove to be easier!

“Don't. Think. About. It.” Dylan stressed, sticking out his index finger to add weight to his threat. Jordan had been in this terrible school of nerd-haters with Dylan for years now to know that he meant what he said and did whatever he meant. In truth, there was actually no need for that finger.

However, even a sheep, sometimes, would choose to disobey its master; if that's a relevant quote, so why shouldn't he vanish at this time? At once, Johnny turned around and fled for dear life.

~~••~~••~~

Hello lovelies!

If you made it to this point, I guess you have thoughts swirling in your mind. I will very much appreciate your feedback.

Thank you so much for reading!

GShaquille.