“Hey, Jimmy, nice shoes. Did you dig them out of a dumpster?” Phil shouted from down the hall. It was the start of the new year, but sure enough, they had followed Jimmy from Palms Elementary School to Palms Middle School. Jimmy looked down at his new shoes, which were black high top converse. They had a tear at the toe of both shoes. The middle where the rubber meets the fabric was coming apart, leaving a hole. Also, the color was fading near the back end of the shoes. Jimmy never really cared. He was used to this sort of clothing and he was just glad to have the converse his brother once wore. The binders he held close to his chest were soon on the floor near room 27. Nate had rushed up from behind him and thwacked them out of his hand. A heavy sigh left Jimmy’s mouth. Not saying a word, he bent over to pick up his stuff.

Jimmy quickly entered the science room, dodging a kick in the rump that would have sent him into the nearby gray lockers. “Why are you in here young man? Class hasn’t started yet.”  Jimmy pivoted around him and into the midriff of the source of kindness.
The teacher was tall and slim with tan dress pants and a blue dress shirt. He wore glasses that were rectangular in shape that seemed to slip down his small nose. His black hair had started to gray and was kept rather short as not to cover his brown eyes.
“I’m sorry. I was just getting my stuff. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll just be leaving.” Jimmy took a step closer to the hallway now stocked with kids. The sound of laughter as his classmates said greetings to one another reverberated across his ears but did not enter the shell of his body.
“Woah, little man,” the teacher grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder stopping him from moving, “I’d like to know your name, at least.”
“My name’s Jimmy Newman.”
“Ahh, Robert’s little brother. He was such a good student and a really kind soul. He loved my class. If you have anything you need, you can be sure to come to me, Jimmy. I will be your science teacher for the next three years. The name is Mr. Thompson.”
“Ok, thank you, Mr. Thompson. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Jimmy gave a weak smile, and walked out flopping his shoes over the tiled floor.
Days became a routine of getting out of the hallways as fast as Jimmy could and dreading each class he got in that had one of the four boys. To save time from being out in the hellscape that was the hallways, Jimmy stuffed everything into his red backpack. The locker he was issued on the first day of school was never touched and as holes started to appear is his bag, duct tape would soon cover the ripped fabric. The one class that Jimmy looked forward to was Science with Mr. Thompson. It was the one class the had none of the demonic pressure given by Phil, Nate, Matt, and Darell.
Those four boys always wore collared shirts to school; they were brightly colored and branded the American Eagle logo. They also had jeans without holes in them. Most importantly their shoes were no less than leather converse. This small fad had been started by Phil over the summer. From Phil’s black hair down his tan stylish shoes, he strived to make hell for the kid who looked different. He would do things like hide his bike after school and sock him in the back of the head when Jimmy wasn't fast enough getting in and out of class. While they were terrible to Jimmy, the teachers all thought of them as angels. That is except for Mr. Thompson who, unlike the others, always saw the boys playing tricks on other students and would keep them in at lunch if he felt he needed to. There was a time in late October when Jimmy did try to go home right after school. Jimmy walked to the parking lot on Kelton Avenue. He hopped on his bike and started on his two and a half mile ride to the apartment where he lived. He hadn't paid to much attention to the people around him as he was more focused on the changing of leaves. The oranges and reds that contrasted against the green grass made Jimmy love this time of year. He was on Culver Boulevard when he was cut off by Matt and Darell on their bikes. Jimmy turned around to see Phil and Nate right behind him. They all got off their bikes and ran at Jimmy. Jimmy tried to pedal away but he was close-lined by Matt's arms knocking him off of his bike. Darell then came and picked Jimmy up from the pavement and with the help of the other three boys they carried Jimmy to the Domino’s nearby. Once in the alley behind the restaurant they dropped Jimmy and continued to kick him violently, laughing at him as he whined for them to stop. After ten minutes they grew tired and left, but not before they all spat on Jimmy as he groaned in pain. Jimmy stayed on the ground for thirty minutes before going back to his bike and walking the rest of the way leaning on to the handles of his bike.
The days at school were long, but the nights weren’t much of a safe haven. Jimmy now waited in the science room until about four each day, which Mr. Thompson didn't mind. Jimmy would often come into the science room and set all of his stuff on the massive black table closest to the teacher’s desk. Jimmy would then pull out his homework and Mr. Thompson would gladly help him. Jimmy would look around the room and see beakers among other equipment that he was uncertain of in purpose. After enough time had passed Jimmy would grab his bike and ride home to see his brother Robert. Robert was the one person who talked kindly to Jimmy after their mom had passed away two years ago with a brain tumor. She was a doctor at VA Greater Los Angeles Healthcare System. This Veterans Hospital check is what provided for what used to be a family of four. Jimmy got home one afternoon to the community housing apartment in December to see Robert handling what looked to be a six shooter pistol.
“Isn’t that Dad’s?”
“Yeah and the bullets are gonna be his permanently if he hits you again.” he said after exhaling the smoke in his lungs. Robert had picked up smoking since he had turned eighteen that year in August. He was short and stocky with sandy blonde hair and light green eyes that seemed to glow toxicly. He also donned a small scar above his lip, under his left nostril.
“He hits you too...”
“I don’t care if he hits me. I can handle myself. What I hate is the black eye he gave you last month while I was off at work.”
“He didn’t do that...” Jimmy trailed off at the end, looking down to the gray carpet.
“Well, then who did? He has been coming home drunk after work for the past two years.”
“It’s no one, Rob, don't worry about it. You have your own problems. After all, you have work. It sucks enough you had to drop out your senior year to help this family. I know how much you wanted to be a doctor like Mom, so please just try to worry about yourself for once.” Jimmy took off his shoes and walked over to the couch in the middle of the room. He clicked on the T.V. and turned it to his favorite show, Spongebob Squarepants. Robert put down the gun on the kitchen counter with a click as it hit the tile counter. He walked through the archway connecting the kitchen to the living room and sat on the couch next to his little brother.
“Bro, I need you to tell me what has been going on. You know I’d do anything for you, but I thought all of those marks were given by our drunk of a father.” Jimmy proceeded to tell his brother about how the last five months have been nothing but a beating from the four boys. He also tells him that he has been hiding out in the science room with Mr. Thompson as much as he could in order to avoid an after school beating. After Jimmy had told Robert everything, their dad stumbled through the front door. He still had the navy blue janitor clothes on from the veterans hospital. His shirt was partly untucked and his long blonde hair hung out from the cap on his head. He reeked of whiskey as he did every weekday. He stumbled to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
Robert sighed then said, “It’s terrible that you are beaten both at school and that that man is more of an alcoholic than a father. I swear he either tries to start a fight with you and me, or just falls into his room.” Jimmy just shook his head in silent agreement. He was just glad that he wasn't gonna have a new bruise tomorrow morning to hide from the teachers. 
“I’m gonna make some dinner. I know it's late, but how does Mac and Cheese sound?” said Robert.
“That sounds great, thanks.”
Twenty minutes later a bowl was in front of Jimmy. The twelve year old downed his favorite meal and fell asleep on the dusty, old couch.
“Hey, bud wake up. You’ve got to get ready for school.” Jimmy stirred from his bed and Robert took his arm off of Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy knew he fell asleep on the couch so he concluded that Robert must have carried him to their room again. Robert then said, “I don't have work today, so I can take you to school and pick you up. Alright?”
“Ok...” said Jimmy as he sat up, still lazy eyed. He looked over to the nightstand where he had a picture of his Mom, Robert, and himself. They were all at a beach in San Diego. He looked at his mom with her brown hair and blue eyes which he got from her. He remembered how his Dad had taken out the camera and called for a photo. They were all smiling and the ocean was in the background. The memory of this day is one that has changed with the passing of time as it is now one of the few moments Jimmy remembers when he was really happy. This day was a year before doctors found the brain tumor in his mom’s skull. She always had headaches but they all thought of them as nothing. If only she went in to get checked sooner...
Jimmy got ready within the hour and Robert took him to school in his old truck. The school day was the same as any. He went to his classes and looked forward to the end of the day when he had Mr. Thompson and could eventually go home. Thirty minutes after school was over, Jimmy walked to the corner of the now empty parking lot to wait for his brother. Just then an arm wrapped lightly around his neck. “Hey Jimmy, what are you doing standing here like an idiot?”
That voice was Nate’s and soon the other three boys were standing in front of Jimmy. They punched him repeatedly in the torso and to finish it off Phil kicked Jimmy in the crotch, causing him to fall to the ground when Nate let go. It was then that a truck pulled up. The tires squealed to a halt and out came Robert. He quickly got out of his car and it was obvious Robert was in a rage. He looked at the boys and quickly recognized them as the ones Jimmy had told him about last night. Jimmy looked up from the sidewalk to see his brother reach into his back pocket and pull out their dad’s six shooter pistol.
“No, Robert don...” was all Jimmy was able to shout as the four boys turned around.
Phil, Nate, Matt, and Darell all fell after four shots left the gun. Robert got in his truck and drove away leaving his brother on the ground that was now red. Jimmy ran inside of the school only to run into Mr. Thompson. He was leaving the building in a hurry to see where the shots came from. Mr. Thompson knelt down and hugged Jimmy asking, “Jimmy are you ok?” Jimmy quickly said he was fine and told him of what had happened. Mr. Thompson called the police all the while in disbelief of what had happened. Mr. Thompson then waited for the police to arrive and ask questions. Jimmy was unresponsive to anything asked of him. Mr. Thompson then took Jimmy and went back to his own home comforting him. After a long while he got Jimmy to fall asleep in his queen sized bed. Jimmy woke up from the sound of the news in the other room. He crept to the door and opened it slightly to watch through the crack. The female reporter then recapped what had just happened a few hours ago.
The date was December tenth, 2010 and on that day a nineteen year old boy named Robert Newman pulled up to Palm Middle School firing four shots. These shots killed four boys that had been picking on his younger brother, Jimmy Newman. The boys that were killed were all dressed the same from their polo shirts to their leather converse. Forty minutes later, Robert Newman was at VA Greater Los Angeles Healthcare System. There he found his father firing a shot into his father's head as well as his own. A note was found in the jacket of Robert Newman, which read, “I’m sorry, but I would do anything for you.”

Story inspired by the song “Pumped up Kicks” by Foster The People