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"Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life, but define yourself."

-Harvey S. Firestone

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It's always pointless ceremonies like these that bring about the weirdest feelings. Well I guess this ceremony isn't that pointless, I am graduating after all, but you could say I'm the only one that's not excited. Today is the day I choose my direction in life. Do I stay? Do I leave? Do I forget all these people surrounding me? Do I cling to them? So many choices, so much time.

I'm sitting in the fourth row, my tassel is tickling my nose and my gold graduation cap, I'm sure, looks absolutely pathetic against my silver locks. We're one hour into the ceremony, the valedictorian, a brainy looking creature that I've never seen before in my life, is struggling to choke out her speech. The students in the audience are hiding smiles and giggles, pretending as if they are mature adults now that they are eighteen and official. Such liars.

My mom and dad are sitting on the first set of bleachers to my left. I'm sure that my mom bullied her way to the front because they always arrive late to everything. But here they are, snapping photos of this memorable event and crying fake tears of sadness that secretly are tears of joy because the minute I get home they'll hand me a suitcase and a crapload of money and send me off. It's not like they're not loving parents, but I'm the youngest child of four and they are getting old. After the valedictorian stumbles away from the podium, the principle announces that we will now watch a slideshow slash video chronicling our time here at Vince Square Academy. We all settle back in our seats and cringe as little miniature versions of us bounce across the screen. The problem with going to a K-12 school is that we have to watch ourselves age from six years old to eighteen years old. Oh, the growth spurts, the acne, the busty eleven year olds and the flat chested sixteen year olds, the extremely tall, the extremely short, the nasally voices, the outdated clothes. It's almost two embarrassing to watch.

But then I see him.

The video is showing events that happened in the second grade. It was the old playground in the back of the school that was condemned a couple of years ago after several couples where caught doing the dirty on some of the equipment. It showed several people I knew; my friends Tidus, Wakka, Selphie, my ex-girlfriend Kairi and some others I don't feel like mentioning. But I can't pay any attention to how cute we were then when I can clearly see him in the corner of the film by himself.

His name was Sora James-Maverick. The self-proclaimed 'weed.' The kid who everyone hated but could never find a reason as to why they did. He was a poor kid; he wore the same clothes to school every day because he didn't have anything else. He didn't have a backpack, he carried his books in his arms with two rubber bands wrapped around them to keep them together. Because Vince Square Academy is a charter school, we have no bus system. Everyone's parent's were responsible in getting their children to school whether it be a city bus pass, carpooling, or the parents driving the kids themselves. Sora walked to school. He lived five miles away from the school and he walked to school. Well actually, let me rephrase that, he 'coasted'.

If there was only one thing that I could distinctly remember about Sora it would have to be his skateboard. It was an old castaway that Sora had found in a dumpster. The thing was more duct tape than board, but it worked. It always worked. Sora was known for his daredevil personality. He'd broken his wrists, his leg, fractured several fingers and gotten a concussion for all of his skateboarding nonsense. We all thought he was trying to kill himself. But if he was, it wasn't working. The more he fell, the better he became.

As the youngest of four children, I was used to being bullied. My older brothers loved to torment me and make me cry. I used to hate them for it. So I guess anyone could say that it was normal for me to want to pick on someone else. I didn't have a younger sibling so I had to go outside and find someone smaller than me to push around. Sora was the perfect target for so many reasons. One, he was poor. Nobody cares about the poor. Two, he had no parents to tell on me to. He was a foster kid, constantly bouncing from home to home when the social workers found out he wasn't being fed or was being physically abused. And three, he smiled too much. Like I hated my brothers, I hated his smile.

So around third grade I began to mess with him. My friends, who followed me like dogs with their masters, happily joined in. It started with name-calling and then slowly escalated to slapping, pushing, shoving and finally, punching. I don't know why I did it; I just know that it gave me a sense of power, a sense of safety. I felt like I was on top of the world every time Sora fell to the ground. But it didn't last because he kept standing back up. And so I punched him back down. And then he stood back up. And it would repeat this way until the bell rang signaling for us to file back into the classrooms.

I guess that's where he got the name the 'weed' from. He was just like one. You can stomp, spray and tear out a weed as much as you'd like but it will always come back. He would always stand up when we pushed him down.

The last time I saw the weed was eighth grade. The deadly disease called hormones was quickly making its rounds through my class. While some were blessed with the 'good hormones' such as height for boys, and breasts for girls, others like Sora, were cursed with the 'bad hormones'. I was lucky to be one of the 'good hormones' candidates. All of the sudden, I was no longer just another kid. I was popular. I started playing in the school basketball team and my muscles, along with my height, started growing. Sora on the other hand, wasn't growing. He was still as short as he was when he was ten and skinny as a green bean. It was in eighth grade that other kids started making him their target. But like his body hadn't changed, nor had his personality. He was still cheerful, considerate, friendly and adventurous.

We didn't notice these features about him until he was gone. After a couple of weeks of not seeing his face or hearing the low lull of his skateboard against the smooth concrete, I started to ask around about him. Wakka told me he had been hit by a car and that he'd seen it himself. Selphie told me he'd drowned in the local pool. Tidus told me he got kicked out of school for spraying graffiti in the library. My teacher Ms. Tifa told me that he had moved.

Like all adolescents, death sounded more exciting than a simple move, so we all believed he had died under some 'unexplained circumstances' and moved on with our lives.

The slideshow finished without me paying any attention to any of it. The rest of the student body, however, sighed a deep breath of relief. The ceremony finally closed with each of us walking up to receive our diplomas and finished with all of us throwing up our caps in celebration.

I said a few goodbye's to my closest friends, and avoided the large amounts of 'fake' friends I had. As I'm exit the building, my parents run up to me and give me a large bear hug, telling me how proud they are of me and that I definitely deserve my graduation present for my good grades. They give me several brochures showing potential destinations spots. My gift was a two-way ticket to anywhere in the world that I wanted to go.

As we're riding home, my parents start to gloat about me in the front street, telling me how proud they are of me and how I am so special and the most beautiful child in the world. I don't really listen to them though, I'm thinking about where I might want to go with my ticket.

Should I go to Blooming Rose Island? I've heard there are a lot of beautiful women there. I smirk. I can't help but be a player sometimes. No, maybe I should go to Lancaster Rock. The sunset there I've heard is something everyone must see before they die. To put it simply, I have a lot thinking to do.

When we get home, I excuse myself to go upstairs to my room, wanting to do a little research on my destination spot. My parents smile at me and tell me that we'll be going out to dinner in about four hours and that my brothers will be joining us.

As I enter my room, I quickly grab my laptop and flip the TV on for some background noise. I was just about to click on the main website for Lancaster Rock when I hear something on the television that can't possibly be true.

"And here he is, Sora James-Maverick. Sora, how does it feel to beat the legend Roxas Forest in his highest ranked event?"

"Ah, I dunno, it feels great." Came the cheerful, laid-back voice of the weed. It was deeper now, more mature and…incredibly seductive. I swallowed the spit in my mouth and stared at the boy. No longer was he a boy, in the body sense, he was still slim but taller now and had very well defined muscles that were accentuated by his very tight muscle shirt. I can't seem to take my eyes off of him. Not only am I surprised that he's still alive, but damn, he's fucking gorgeous. And that's a lot coming from a straight guy.

"So Sora, we still have two weeks of competition left. You've won your first event, how will this affect your other five?" The reporter asked him.

"I dunno, man. I'm just going to keep trying my hardest, put this one behind me and focus on the next ones, you know. Keep coasting." Sora said with a smile before walking away from the reporter. I can't believe I ever hated his smile.

"And that was Sora James-Maverick, a must-watch in the free style tournaments here in Beya Wing Bay City and winner of the street scene tournament, beating out former number one rank, Roxas Forrest. Eric, back to you."

I mute my television set and sit in utter silence for several minutes until my mom walks into my room.

"So honey, I know this is soon, but have you decided on a destination yet?" She asks me while excitedly bouncing from foot to foot. I nod, and she asks me where I want to go.

I know it's irrational, stupid, and probably not the best destination spot in the world because I've never heard of it before, but I'm going. And if she asks me for a reason, I honestly don't have one. I tend to listen to my heart though, and right now it's beating a mile a minute. So I say without a doubt…

"Beya Wing Bay City."

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A/N:So I was going to post this next week, but after looking at my school schedule for next week, I'd be too busy. So here it is early. I can't tell you how happy I am to write something in my new writing style. Plus it's nice to write something different than angst. Anyway, tell me what you think.