LIFE AS JOHN BENDER

As I trudged home through the muddy football field I thought back on the detention I just had and how it was unlike any other detention I had ever experienced. I didn't mean to disclose all that crap about my family that was personal shit that I should have never brought up. I wondered what would happen on Monday, would that conceited princess even give me a second glance. Something in the back of my mind wished she would but, but I knew for a fact she would not acknowledge me, other than to squeal "ewww!"

I'm a worthless, no good piece of shit, and that's all I'll ever be to anyone. I walked down the street to the slums of Shermer, Illinois; to the piece of shit apartment I call home.

Sporto was right in saying, "You know bender, you don't even count, I mean if you disappeared forever, it wouldn't even make a difference, you may as well not even exist in this school."

I climbed the muddy steps to my family's (if you could even call them that) apartment. As I pushed open the door, I heard yelling. Great they're already at it. I tried to quietly tiptoe to my room. No use in drawing attention to yourself, asshole. I tried to quietly open the door without it creaking. YES! For once it doesn't creak. I quietly walked into the room and sat on the only piece of furniture in my room. Something that could possibly be called a bed but was in reality just a holey mattress with broken springs sitting on the dirty carpet, that used to be yellow but was now more of a pukey brown color, with random pieces of gum stuck in the carpet and cigarette burns. The walls were once whit but had since turned a lovely yellowed color from the excessive tobacco smoke in my room. There were cracks in the dry wall and gaping holes also. In one corner of my room was an old milk crate there were four pairs of pant and five shirts the extent of my wardrobe.

What could you possible have that Claire could want other that your smashing good looks of course? Why am I even wasting my time thinking about her? No doubt she will ignore me on Monday as will Sporto although I would not be horribly crushed if he ignored me. I wonder if Big Bri will acknowledge me. GOOD LORD MAN, get a grip on yourself, you're worrying whatever neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie will give you a second thought, and have some dignity man! Good freaking lord I'm having a conversation with myself in my fucking head! I need to get out of here. I thought to myself reaching into a hole in my mattress and grabbing my pot, I opened the front door accidentally slamming it, behind me. SHIT!

I took off running down the stairs. "Boy you best not be slamming doors in my house." I heard my old man scream from the landing above the one I'm on. Knowing he is too lazy to chase after me when there beer to be drinking right in the fridge. I slowed down to leisurely pace out the front of the apartment complex. I walked to the park passing by a young girl screaming at a girl my age.

"Mom, I wanna get some I-scream." Her mother was my neighbor Jenny; she lived in the apartment next to mine. She used to hang out with me but when she got pregnant when we were fourteen we stopped hanging out because she had to spend most of her time taking care of her daughter. In the time she isn't busy with her daughter she is spending time across the street from our apartment complex selling speed.

"Johnny," she shouted after me completely ignoring her daughter, "you got any pot, I ran out."

"No, sorry Jenny." I lied, walking away. When I reached the park is saw my friend Bruiser standing there staring at a tree, muttering to him.

"Hey, Bruiser what are you doin'?" He jumped looking startled.

"Wha?"

"What are you doing Bruiser?" I asked again. Before I could even finish he started running across the park and off down the road. Fuckin' psycho's obviously trippin' balls. I sat down on one of the benches and brought out my bag of pot.

Shit, I forgot my rolling papers. Now what am I going to do? I could go to a friends house and borrow some but there's no guaranteeing they'll give me any and if they do they'll expect me to share and I'm not in the sharing mood. I could go to the store and buy some but I'm broke, and not in the mood to steal. I could go home to get some and risk the wrath of daddy dearest. Hopefully he'll be to drunk to do anything.

And with that I headed towards my apartment as I opened the door I heard a bottle break and a shout. Shit in and out quickly. I quickly opened my door it creaked loudly.

"BOY GET YOURS FRREAKIN'AZZ INS TO HERE" my father slurred. SHIT!

"ANSWWER MIS BOY" I heard him pounding toward the living room.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOUS THINK YOUS WAZ DOIN, YOU STOLE MY FUCKING SMOKES, AZZHOLE."

"No I didn't pops." Carefully avoiding looking him in the eye. I backed slowly towards the door.

"Don't talk back to me boy." He said simultaneously punching me in the eye, causing me to loose my balance. Quickly two more punched landed I could feel blood dripping down my cheek where his ring must of cut me. I spun around quickly and ran for the door just as my hand reached for the knob I felt a hand grab me by the back of the neck and smash my face into the door I heard a sickening crunch. Before I had time to react I opened the knob and ran out the door and down the stairs, and out of the front of my building. That sick bastard can be fucking quick when he wants to be. I felt my nose, and pulled back my hand quickly.

"That fucking asshole broke my fucking nose again." I said to myself.

TBC