The rhythmic thwack, thwack, thwack of a
cleaver echoed through the room.
“Keep it down!” I yelled. “Do you want the
whole neighborhood to think you’re murdering
someone?”
One of the huge guys poked his head out, a
bloody knife in his hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.
Just hurry up and finish with these two, I gotta
catch the game.”
I watched the girls tremble, eyes wide with
terror. It felt good. Really good. Alex was
shaking too. What was he so scared of? Oh, no,
he was about to lose it. I jabbed him in the ribs.
11:08
He sucked in his breath, face turning red, a
grimace that looked more like laughter than
pain.
41
“It was all her! I didn’t touch Lily!” one of the
girls shrieked, pointing at the other. “She’s the
one who locked Lily in the bathroom!”
The accused girl lunged. “You bitch!” She
turned to me. “Don’t listen to her! She liked this
guy in our class, and she was jealous because
he kept talking to Lily. That’s why she made us
do it!”
So it wasn’t a one–time thing. I grabbed a
fistful of her hair, about to slam her head
against the wall, but Alex stopped me, shaking
his head.
I had to hold back. Couldn’t screw this up.
“I might be persuaded to let you go,” I said.
<
They scrambled to my feet, practically bowing.
“Oh, thank you! We knew you were a good
guy!”
“Good? My ass!” I flipped open my phone
camera. “I want you to do to each other
everything you did to Lily.”
One of them reacted instantly, slapping the
other across the face. The girl’s cheek swelled
- up.
“Bitch! You hit me!”
She lunged, grabbing the other girl’s hair. They
went at it – hair pulling, scratching, spitting,
slapping.
Alex watched, eyes gleaming. The two giants in
the back craned their necks, captivated.
Soon, both girls were covered in scratches and
bruises. They were exhausted, but still clinging
nuno hulaing Thin won
to nonh thawn hair our
11:08
<
to each other’s hair, eyes bulging. This was
clearly getting personal.
“Not enough,” I said. “You ripped Lily’s shirt,
right?”
They understood. They started tearing at each other’s clothes. When their hands got tired,
they used their teeth. Rip.
Alex shook his head, disappointed. “Cheap
material.”
After an hour of filming, I’d had enough. I raised
the metal gate. “Get out.”
They bolted, stumbling and falling, faces hitting the pavement. Too weak to stand, they crawled away, leaving two long trails behind them — red
from blood, yellow from urine.
Disgusting.
<
11:08
Not surprisingly, less than an hour later, the bullies‘ parents showed up with the cops. We
were eating ribs when Brittany’s dad punched
me in the face.
So, they wanted to play it that way.
Before I could react, Alex grabbed a bowl of scalding hot rib sauce and dumped it on the guy’s head. The giants each delivered a swift kick, sending both parents sprawling to the
floor, howling in pain.
“What the hell!” the cop yelled, pulling us apart.
“Do I not exist?”
I recognized him. The same one who’d come to
our house.
“Officer, they attacked us first,” I said.
“We received a report of a possible homicide.”
His eyes flickered.
<
11:08
“Oh?” I saw the two bruised and cowering
bullies behind him.
“That’s ridiculous, officer.” Alex grinned.
“We’re law–abiding citizens. Totally law-
abiding.”
“They kidnapped me!” one of the bullies yelled,
hiding behind the cop.
“Kidnapped? Think before you speak. This
black eye? I did that?”
“He threatened me!” The bully pointed at one
of the giants. “He tricked me into coming
here!”
The giant chuckled. “Proof?”
The bully stammered, then brightened. “There’s
a body inside! I saw it!”
The cop rushed inside, then emerged a moment
<
later, staring at the butchered ribs on the
cutting board.
“Officer,” I said, “it’s not illegal to cook ribs at
home, is it?”
The cop smirked. “Nope. Seems like a misunderstanding. I’ll be going.”
Brittany’s dad struggled to his feet, clutching
his groin. “Officer, you’re just going to let them go?”
The cop’s face hardened. “Unless you have evidence, yes. Do you?”
The dad looked at his daughter. She shook her head.
Alex saluted. “Thanks, officer.”
The cop nodded and left.
<
That night, I snuck into the school. I plastered
pictures of the bullies attacking each other
everywhere – every hallway, every classroom. I
–
made sure the whole school would see their
humiliation. Close–ups of their soiled pants and
their pathetic faces adorned the walls.
I spent five, maybe six hours putting up over
three thousand pictures. I wasn’t even tired. I
felt energized, exhilarated.
I found a good vantage point, lit a cigarette,
and waited for the students to arrive.
The reaction was immediate. Students pointed, whispered, their phones buzzing. The school’s online forum exploded. The bullies‘ addresses, their parents‘ information, their grades, even their elementary school photos were posted.
It was almost 6 AM. Homeroom. The teacher
hadn’t arrived yet.
<
I walked into Lily’s classroom.
The room buzzed. The school had tried to
suppress the story, but everyone knew. Now,
with the pictures, they knew there was a show
about to start.
Two desks were empty. Forty pairs of eyes
stared at me, excited.
I wasn’t about to disappoint. I grabbed the
teacher’s microphone, turned on the projector,
and displayed the pictures, one by one.
“These two are just the appetizer. I’m here to
tell you, Brittany, your fate will be a thousand
times worse. You’re next.”
