I pedaled faster, and faster, but my bike was old so the rusty gears slowed me down. I quickly glanced back down the dark alley. A bunch of older guys on bikes were chasing me. I turned left into a different side street that was even darker than the first. This reminded me of when I was a little boy, I was always scared that a lion was going to run and catch me, and eat me. It’s basically the same thing now. A bunch of kids are chasing me for no reason, but they want to beat me up.
I never did anything to them but, they started following me on my way home from school. That was three hours ago and, my mom is probably worrying her brains out. My thoughts start slipping away from me when I reached a dead end on the street. I started to panic. I look around to see if there’s anything useful that can help me in some way. There was a dumpster, an old chair, and a side ladder that was attached to the grey building next me. I quickly ran to the ladder and started unlatching it.
I suddenly heard shouting, so I glance over. The group of four guys that I saw earlier, turned into about 10 people. Some were running and others were riding their bikes. As they got closer and closer. I started scrambling up the ladder as fast as I could. As my hand reached up, on the fourth bar, someone grabbed my leg. I look down, it was some large red head kid, with a bunch of freckles on his face. I tried kicking him away but he held on tighter, and more people grabbed on. My heart was racing with fear, I thought, “What if these people kill me and I never go home?” I looked back down again, someone had gotten on the chair and is now taking off my shoes, as others pull me down. “Get lost! Stop! That hurts!”, I shouted at their faces hoping that they would listen. People shouted back but I couldn’t understand what they were saying, all I heard was screaming and hollering coming from everywhere.
I started to lose my grip on the bars, everyone started pulling me harder. I closed my eyes and tried to resist the force. Then it happened, one skinny tall kid jumped up, onto my back and pushed my shoulders down. My hands lost their grip and I fell. I hit my head on the chair and then everything went blurry. I was scared because I couldn’t actually see what was going on, but many people surrounded me and started kicking me. I felt them search my pants, like raccoons searching garbage cans. They eventually found my wallet, and they were strapping me down to the ground. All I could hear was shouting. But then I heard a woman’s voice screaming. Everyone looked up, so I tried moving my neck but it hurt to move. I saw some lady shouting down from her window, “Stop! Get outta here! I’m calling the cops!”
Everyone immediately stopped and started running away and left me. After a few minutes of silent recovery, I tried getting up. My hips and thighs stung really bad. When I fully propped myself up, I realized they had stolen my wallet, bike, socks, and shoes. I started limping over to the main street to catch a bus. I found a few bucks in my jacket to pay the bus driver. When I got on the bus there was no one except an old man sitting in the front. I took my seat in the back. It was probably about 6:00pm. I was cold, tired, and in pain. I started to wonder, “Maybe I shouldn’t tell my parents about what happened, they will make a big deal about it, and I don’t want that. Also football tryouts are soon and I really want to play. My mom won’t let me, knowing that I hurt myself.” Suddenly the bus came to a stop. I got off and walked the rest of the way home.
When I got to my house, my mom ran out of the house and started asking me many questions. “Where were you? Do you know what time it is Mr.?” She asked. I said, “Yeah sorry my phone died, and I couldn’t tell you that hung out with Steve at the mall.” My mom seemed pretty disappointed, but she didn’t suspect anything. Whenever I was around her, I tried not to limp, even though it really hurt.
Within a month, my legs got better, and I got on the school’s football team, but not everything was so great still. A group of guys at my school keep bothering me. I recognize some of them from that night they attacked me. They call me names, trip me, and always ask what happened to my blue sneakers-because they’re the ones that they stole. I never told anyone about this, but it started getting worse. I realized more and more people are hurting me physically, emotionally, and mental. I didn’t know if I should tell a grown up, or my parents, because that’s embarrassing.
One day in the lunch room, I just got my tray of food. I had chicken soup, bread, and a sandwich. I was walking back to my seat when some kid stepped in front of me. He just looked at me for a couple seconds, then slammed my tray into my face. My face and chest was filled with burning chicken soup, and my hair was filled with soda. Everyone started laugh at me, and I felt like I was going to cry. I ran out as fast as I could, and I went to the boys shower room to clean up. I just wanted to get out of school and go home. I felt like no one cared about me. I sat down on a bench and wiped my shirt with paper towel. Just when I was about done, I heard the door open. I started panicking again, thinking it was one of those rude guys. I was prepared to run, but stopped when I saw that it was only Mr. Roberts, the school’s gym teacher. He immediately asked, “Are you ok? You look hurt. What’s all over your clothes?” I didn’t want to tell him that people were bullying him, but I did. I confessed all what had happened that day, and the past few weeks. I also told him who bullied me too. I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulder. He asked me, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I could have helped you.” I just told him that I was embarrassed about it.
After that, Mr. Roberts told the principal, and the school contacted my parents and told them what had happened. That day I went home, and didn’t go to school for another week. My mom just wanted me to have some time off. I found out that the students that were bothering me were expelled, and that the school had new strict policies about bullying. When I returned to school, I felt more welcomed, and the bullying stopped, and felt actually good for once. We had a great season of football. We had won the championships. I made a lot of new friends, and my life was just amazing. I guess telling the truth is worth it.