Josepi was a foster kid. And just had gotten adopted from France by two amerces. It was his first day in school. He knew no one, and had varry little understanding of social scenery. As he was walking down the path to school. He herd a bell ring. Grate he thought, not only did he start in the middle of the school year. But now he who’d not have the luxury of walking in with the rest of the class. He thought about the past times he transferred schools. The teacher made him stand up in front of the hole class and then who’d mispronounce his name, and he who’d have to correct him. Then he who’d sit down and hear all the whispers and smirks about his odd ball name. he thought all the years where the same, but this one who’d be far different from the rest . . . . . .


He walked in to class . Late, of corce. But this time he did not get a chance to sit at the back off the room. No the only seat left was right upfront. Next to this huge brute looking guy. He almost considers walking out of the class. Or pretending he did not understand English. But in the end he sat down in his set. He ignored the cukels from around the room. And the smirk from the strange guy sitting next to him. With safety pins in his close. And a scare on his face. Some thing was up, he cod fell it. He tried to shake off the felling that something was wrong. At the end of class when he stood up everyone started leafing. Once again he chose to ignore it. He was a geek, he knew it. No reason to let them get to him. He hadn’t relised what had happened until his final class of the day, art. The desk he had sat in, had wet paint on the chare. that’s why everyone had been leafing at him as he walled threw the locker lined hallways. His new paints where ruined. And he had almost a serten idea who had coused it. Buch, the brut he had sat next to in first. Tomorrow he who’d make sheer not to set next to him. He was sketching a empty deserted rode with cracks in it and catis on the sides. When all of a sudden there was black ink allover his drawing. He looked up to see
Buch standing with a ink jar in is hand tumped over sideways. “oh, man Im so sorry” but his look did not say that. The look going across Buch’s face was one of mockery, one that told him he had done it on prepuce.


When he got home from school that day, Helen (his foster mom) asked him how his day had been. “fine.” was all he said. Don’t get him wrong though he loved his foster parents and where varry grateful to them. But as he walked up the stares he herd her lafe. ‘so now she’s lafeing at me to’ he thought. When he got in his room he took off his ruined paints and threw them in his trash can by his computer. Tomorrow will be better he thought. He changed into his basket ball shorts and grabbed his bike. No harm in checking out the town right? He thought to himself.


He rode down his street, and into town. He examined all the stores and markets around him. So when he saved up to get a car one day he who’d know where everything is. He saw Buch standing with a group of ruff looking pepol and he turned his back around to head back home. But he saw threw the corner of his eyes, that Buch had jumped into a truck with the group of pepol and was following him. His hart started to race. What where they going to do to him? Why where they following him? And why did they have there eyes set on him? The questions raced threw his mind. But when he pulled into his houses driveway they kept going. Of coerce they did he thought, they probley live in this Nabor hood. He cased himself for beeing so stupid. What had happened today was probly just a joke on the new kid. He had, had that happened countless times before. Some of the pepol who had played a prank on him even became his friends.


He got on his computer, to cheek his email. There was a few emails from some of his old friends. But that was not new. He started messing around on the internet when. He got the ‘you’ve got mail’ message. He went back to his inbox to find a email from a address he did not recognize. all it said was to get on instant messenger. He got on. “so you’ve finally made it?” the person questioned. “ya. . . . . . Who are you?” he questioned. “be ready.” they tipped back. be ready for what” he asked. Then resent the message a few mints later when they had not replied. He went back to look at the message. They had sent again. The email was from. www.buchthebully@hotmail.com his hart had started to race. Pounding harder and harder against his chest. So much that he became afraid that it was going to jump out of his chest. How had Buch gotten his email address? Why had he told him to ‘be ready?’ what was he going to do to him? And why had he set his eyes on him? He dint even know him! He tried to get some sleep. But his hart who’d not stop pounding. He tried to convince himself that it was all just some mean joke. But it wasn’t coming. All that was there was fear. The fear if what Buch was going to do to him. When he finalely seemed to drift off to sleep, his alarm rang.


Its going to be ok. He tried to convince himself. But deep in his gut, he knew something was wrong. Deeply wrong. He got dressed and tried to look less dorky, just some blue genes and a gray t-shirt. He grabbed his back pack. Then he thought, if he wore his back pack on both solders it who’d be easer for him to grab him. If he wore it on one shoulder he cod slip out of it. But it who’d throw him off when he was righting his bike. but was it worth it. Unless he fell infrunt off him. He cursed himself, he was thinking about this far to much. He wood ride his bike to school, and just make shear Buch did not sit next to him or vice versa. And everything who’d be fine. He wood make it threw the year and find a friend or two to hang out with.


He pulled his bike up to the front of the school. And put his bike with the rest of them. Buch was standing at one door, so he casually walked to the other one. He who’d not make a full of himself today. Today was going to be different. He was walking down the hallway when he noticed Buch was following him. And not at a causal, well maybe it only looks like has following me kind. His eyes where locked on him. Like a tiger before it caches its prey. He started to sweet. What was this kids problem? What had he done to him? I wished he who’d turn the corner. These thoughts rased threw his mind. For what seemed like a eternity and then some he made it to his class room. Where Buch sat behind him. Oh no, he thought. The teacher started to speech but he cod not focuses on what he was saying. His mind kept racing about what Butch wanted. A hundred million circumstances ran threw his mind. All due to his over reactive amajanashon. When class was over he had to go to the bathroom. When he came out of the stall Buch was standing there with one of his buddies. “ ah, the new kid had to go to the widdle boys room?” Josepi stood there and was contemplating wither to just walk out , or to try to wash his hands first. He decided quickly just to leave. He cod get hand sanitizer from his locker. But as he was about to walk out. Butches friend stepped infrunt of the door. Crossing his arms to his chest. “ where do you think you are going? New kid?” the brute infrunt of him said. “Im going to class” Josepi said weekly. The man laughed so hard his body started entire body started shaking. Then he grabbed his shoulder. He tried to pull away but he was to strong. Then Buch came and helped him then they dunked his head in the toilet and flushed it several times. When they finely stopped. Josepi chest hurt and he cod barley breathe. He quickly diceed to go home early. Once Buch and his stupid friend left he started walking towards the bike racks in the back of the school. The stage glances and lafter around him. Was making him more and more angry. He gritted his teah. Something was wrong with this country. Something vary disgustingly wrong. He thought as he stormed to his bike. Stomping his feat, not caring if he looked like a itchier child. Or a idiot.


When he got to his bike, the tiers where off. And it was spray painted a florescent pink. And the seat was missing. He clinched his fist. He hadn’t even been hear a week and the treat meant he was getting was worse then ever. He looked around to see if his bike tiers had been any ware near bye. Then he saw them, the florets pink tiers on the top of the school. that’s when he snapped. He started screaming at the top of his lungs and he threw what was left of his bike as far as he cod, not caring if it hit someone’s car or not. Once again he stormed into the school. His head still soaking wet, along with the top part of his shirt.


It seemed like forever but when he finally made it to the top of the school, there was butch. And not only him but at lest 3 or 4 other guys too. And behind them where his bike tiers. Bunches arms where crossed infunt of his chest. He simply nodded and the crowd started for him. Josepi considered running, but he knew it who’d only make it worse later. If he cod get away that is. One of the bigger boys garbed his arms. And Josepi twisted his arm towards the boys thumb and broke his grasp. The boy seemed shocked, he was fighting back. But the nest time he grabbed him he cod not brake his grasp. So he reached over and hit him square in the face as hard as he cod. The boy jumped back holding his nose. Josepi had broken the guys nose. Then everyone except buch grabed him at one time. He cont move all he cod do was swarm, hoping to brake on of there grasps. But of course they where all holding on to him so tightly he cod not brake the grasps. Then Buch walked up to him. “so new kid ware you from?” Josepi didn’t cancer. Then Buch pulled back his arm and swung and landed a punch harder then any of the ones he had felt back in France. “new kid I asked you a question!” he started calfing. “fr-france” Buch started lafeing. “ no wonder, your names so weird.” and he counted lafeing. “ and how do you spell that?” “J-o-s-e-p-I-” then Buch pulled back his arms again, Josepi automatically flinched. “so its , J-” and he hit him just as hard if not harder in the gut then he had the first time. “0” and he swung again except this time he hit him in the chest, knocking what air was left in his lungs out. As if you poked a hole in a balloon. “s” he said and hit him again, whale Josepi was still gasping fore air. Then when he finally made it to I he punched him in the face. Josepi was fading in and out of conciseness. “I don’t want to see your face around hear again, or else you will be getting something far wore then this” he said and bunches gang dropped him, he hadn’t relished it but they where the only thing holding him up. So when he dropped him he fail to the ground.


He han’t known how long he had been laying thare but when he stood up it was dark. And he cod barlry walk. When he went up and grabed his tiers thay wher slit. Thay had just used them to taount him up thare.


When he got home his foster mom was shoked. “honey what happened.” if he told her. She wood tell the school, and maybe the cops. “ I fell of my bike on a bike rock” she seemed to take that as a good ancer. “ Im going to go lay down, ok?” she nodded. And with each steep the stares he felt his hole body scream at him. No he who’d not be going to school tomorrow, if ever again.


When he woke up the next morning, he almost forgot what had happened for a minute. But then it soon retuned full force when he tried to stand up and pain shot threw his entire body. He stayed home from school that day. But when he walked outside, a all to filmier red pick up truck was parked down the street. He walked back into the house, still holding his ribs. A few mints later there was bagging on the door. He was home alone, his “parents” who’d not be home till 6. And it was noon. There was another knock on his door. He ignored it. There was a knock again. He ignored it still. He went back up to his room and put his mp3 on. And drifted off to sleep.


He herd a car pull into the drive way. He rolled over on his side. Stiff feeling yesterdays beat up. He herd the door open, then a loud gasp. He tried to get up and move but his body was still stiff from being in bed so long. A few minutes later his door flung open. And standing behind the door was his foster dad. “What was that HU?!” he questioned. Josepi sat up in bed and stretched. “what was what?” he asked. “Oh, like you don’t know what Im talking about!” ’josepi’s dads voice was getting louder by the second. “no I don’t know what your talking about” Josepi was confused. “Oh, so I guess the water hose just put its self in the mail slot and turned its self on!” his ‘dads’ face was hot with anger. “What? I don’t know what your talking about!” josepis dad grabbed him bye the arm jerking him out of bed. He felt a volt of pain shoot threw his body. His dads grip on him was tight. As he was pulling Josepi down the stares. Josepi saw what he was talking about. There was at lest a inch of water covering the floor. Josepi stopped and stared at what had happened. He dint know how long he had been standing there maybe a second maybe 5 minutes but it felt like forever. When Josepi finally looked up. The red pick up drove bye. Buch. He was going to kill him.


Two weeks went bye. His parents had had the floor re-done, with the money he was supposed to get for a new bike. So he now had to walk to school. Buch and his buddies continued to torment Josepi as often as possible. Then one day . . .


Josepi was walking home from school. When the red pickup drove bye. With Buch and his friends in it. They started yelling all kinds of foul things to him. Something in Josepi snapped then, like a twig. Some thing important, something vital. It was self restraint. Josepi picked up the biggest rock he cod see and threw it at there truck. They did not seem to notice though.


Later that day Josepi was walking to the creek, but relay it was just a big hole in the ground with tall stone built ups around it. As Josepi was walking toward the creek he saw Buch fishing in the pond. The old Josepi wood have turned around and ran home as quietly as possible. But no- that Josepi died earlier that day. And he had been dieing scene his first day of school. The new Josepi was not about to run, he was about to get payback. He looked around. All that was around him was large rocks. Then the idea hit him. A evil grin crossed his face. He picked up the biggest stone he cod and stood on the top of the other ones. “hay buch!” Josepi yelled holding the stone in the air. As buch turnd around pure fear crossed his face. Pure untainted fear. “this is pay back!” Josepi siad and trew the rock down. It hit buch in the head. Buches body fell into the water and started footing away, the water turning a deep red color.


What have I done? I just killed someone. I just MUDDERD someone. These thoughts ran threw his mind. Booming louder and louder by the minute. He got up and walked out to the street. Maybe a block away. When he made it out to the street he was sheer everyone cod see what he done. That it was wriiten allover his face. That a cop whod pull over and take him away any sekent now. But thay dint. Josepi walked home and went to bed.


The next moreing it was on the news. It said a rock had fallen from the top of the hill and hit him in the head. And it had yet to be detruded if he bleed to death or droned. Thay said no foul play was suspected, that this had happened once before.



A few days later, Josepi was walking down the street. He had lost his mind. The voices yelling at him became louder and louder. He cod not constant on anything. Nor cod he sleep. that’s when the red pick up pulled up beside him. Buch was at the drivers seat. His face swollen and blue looking. A huge gash on the top of his head. But he said nothing until Josepi was about 4 feet from the truck. “this is payback” he said. Then there was a loud crashing sound. And this time it was Josepi laying dead with blood surrounding him.


The traffic stopped. He had been on the high way. And was hit bye red pick up truck. But Buch had not been the driver. Infact, there had been no driver when they checked the vikal.