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Fantasy Fiction Middle School

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

The traffic on Deedson road was at a standstill. Griffith Middle School had seen its last day of the school year, and the students surged from the entrance, cheering and tossing aside their old notebooks like discard. On the front lawn, harried teachers called out commands to behave over the summer, and shouted at wayward students to cross at the cross-walk. Lawrence Weber opted to take the back way home, avoiding the mass of students entirely. He turned south instead of north, planning to circle back around at Woodworth street two blocks away, then back up to the Griffith Park apartments on Lane street. He’d tried several routes over the past few years, finding and perfecting the best means of avoiding the bullies, but somehow they’d always managed to intercept him anyway.

Today was no different, and as he rounded the corner and came face to face with the group waiting for him, he was disappointed to note that they’d added another to their ranks. He sighed and tossed aside his backpack, hoping they would not notice it this time. It was a gift from his grandmother, and quite expensive, and for the first time since meeting the bullies of Griffith middle school, he hoped they would be too busy beating him up to bother with taking his possessions. 

“Happy Summer Break, coward,” Kyle said. Tristan high-fived him, and Kevin and Dodge simply chuckled. Kyle was the ring-leader, the sports hero that all the girls seemed to drool over. Kevin and Dodge were merely the support members, the audience played on the laugh track of some corny television show. Tristan was what he considered an understudy, a bully in training. Another boy he didn’t recognize lingered on the fringes of the group, his blonde hair slicked back with too much hair gel, and his clothes nearly falling off of him, they were so loose.

“Don’t you have summer school or something?” Lawrence retorted, and Kyle’s eyes flashed, indicating that he’d hit a nerve. What Kyle lacked in brain cells he compensated with violence. Kyle initiated the beating with the opening shove, and Lightning anticipated it, dodging his hands entirely. His father had encouraged him to fight back, and he had for awhile, but there was nothing fair or equal about five-on-one odds. 

The other boys closed in, menacing expressions on their faces, and Lawrence wished he’d chosen the more occupied route home, the one with traffic. Once in awhile some kind motorist would stop to help, but this time they were in the middle of an abandoned lot adjacent to an empty taco shop.

“Kyle!” a female voice said. Lawrence turned to see Anabella Swanson walking up behind him, her shiny red hair pulled back into a ponytail and her blue eyes brighter in the sunshine. Annabella was in his math class, and she and Kyle had been dating for two weeks. Lawrence felt his stomach muscles contract as she drew nearer, a lovely smile on her lips.

“Hi, Lawrence. What are you all doing out here?”

Tristan shot Kyle a warning look, but Kyle disregarded it, clearly unbothered by Annabella’s perception of him now.

“We were just about to pound this loser into dust,” he announced, shoving Lawrence back. Lawrence didn’t dodge this time, since he might collide with Annabella if he did. Annabella’s eyes widened with shock and she reached over and shoved Kyle’s hands away.

“Kyle Kissinger you stop that!” she exclaimed.

“Lawrence, I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out to help him back up. Lawrence could feel the shame in his cheeks, made worse by the cackling of the other boys and their taunts. He stood up and dusted off his pants, wishing for all he was worth that Anabella would go back from where she’d come and that they could just get this whole thing over with. 

“Mama’s here,” the boys crooned, cackling louder. Anabella’s eyes searched Lawrence’s, and he dipped his head, wishing himself invisible.

“You’re a coward, Kyle,” she spat. Kyle abruptly stopped laughing and closed the distance between himself and his girlfriend.

“You want to say that again?” he growled, and Lawrence watched his fists clench at his sides and his shoulders set straight, the same way they did before he punched him after school.

“I said-” Lawrence recoiled as Kyle slapped Annabella, who shrieked and fell backward, knocked off balance by his blow. She held her face and cried, and Kyle advanced on her, unsatisfied with a single blow. Lawrence’s skin warmed and the hairs on his neck stood on end. His heart rate increased and he felt somehow larger and stronger than before, emboldened by his anger. No one was watching Lawrence as he planted his feet and cocked his fist back, aiming it directly at Kyle’s jaw. 

Lawrence delivered the blow with quick precision, hitting Kyle with a strength and force that he didn’t know he had. Kyle spun and fell down, and the other boys gaped, shocked by the turn of events. Lawrence, eyes blazing, stepped in front of Annabella, who watched from the dirt, her hair a mess and her dress soiled from the sand.

“Does anyone else enjoy hitting girls?” Lawrence asked, his nerves humming with electricity. Tristan, the second bully, charged at him, but Lawrence was ready, and ducked, sweeping his large body up and over and hurling him back onto the ground. Tristan landed with a thump! And groaned as the pain of the impact shot through his body. The new boy swung his fists next, and Lawrence dodged them with professional agility, landing an uppercut to the boy’s jaw.  Dodge and Kevin were next, and they decided to team up for their assault, charging him from both sides. Lawrence let out an animalistic growl, and his fists came to life with what Annabella would later describe as lightning.

Lawrence swung hard and fast, dodging every blow and never stopping. At last, the bullies lay scattered in the field, none of them daring to challenge him again. Lawrence stared at his fists, feeling the heat in his knuckles and the energy in his veins. Something had come over him, and whatever it was, he liked it. Turning to Annabella, he offered her his hands and drew her up and off the ground, picking up their backpacks.

The two of them walked home together, recounting the way Kyle had spun and the way Kevin had screamed like a teenage girl. 

“Lightning,” Annabella said. “That’s what your new nickname should be, because you were as fast as lightning.”

Ten Years Later…..

Lawrence “Lightning” Weber stood in the ring, his back hunched and his feet set. His gloves hovered just below his jaw, and his opponent, Drake “Wildfire” Pits, glowered at him from across the way. The crowd erupted into raucous cheering as the announcer recited Lightning’s impressive record, and signs decorated the masses with his name scrawled across them. Dante, his boss, hovered on the sidelines, having placed his bets earlier in the match. Lightning never lost a fight, and neither had Drake. The difference between them was that Drake was rumored to mishandle his girlfriends and Lightning fought better when he was angry. The bell rang and the crowd cheered in full force, and Lightning stepped into the circle, fists at the ready.

July 01, 2022 22:36

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2 comments

07:20 Jul 15, 2022

This is a nice foundation story. It is a good character development piece.

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Ashley Brandt
16:29 Jul 15, 2022

Thank you! I appreciate you reading!

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