The End of the Beginning

On that day, I was walking to my bus stop. Nothing new, just a warm spring day. I sighed. My thoughts were bordering on lethally high levels of depressing.

"Why should I keep on going to school if I hate it so much?"

A normal day. Weekends were fun, and Friday is the only day of the week excluding the weekend that I liked. However, a Monday like this may as well be news that I get to live in hell.

Oh wait...

The bus arrived. I got on, and went through my dreary day. Same boring Language Arts, which wouldn't help us in life. Same old Algebra 1 that we would very rarely use. Same old chemistry, with it's boring crunching numbers.

At lunch, (which is around 1pm for me) I sat down with my 3 friends, (This is the 10% I was talking about.)

.....Parentheses guy, are you going to let me finish?

(hmmmmm.... Sure, why not?)

Anyways, I sat down with my (NOPE)

...

...

...

F*** you.

...  3 friends, who were chatting about how Tae-kwon-do is.

... AHEM.

(What? Oh. Sorry. Tae-kwon-do was a martial art I was taking.)

Then, one of them asked if I could buy him a cookie. His name was Gabriel Salazar. The only detail I'm going to state about him is that he somehow owed the school over 100$'s in lunch money. Due to this fact, I was half tempted to say "How about no, ya crazy dutch bastard?!" but I was feeling in a oddly charitable mood that day..

I went up to the snack counter, put in my ID, and bought a cookie with the money in my account. This is the point where one of the jackasses who have tormenting me decided to walk up to me and say this phrase: "Hey baby, is that cookie for me?" and snatched the cookie out of my-

STOP!

How could I forget that?! HOW?!

Ok, let me explain.

1. Yes, the Jackass was male.

2. No, I am not gay.

3. The only reason why his face wasn't stuffed full of the lovely taste of wall was the fact that I had a uncanny amount of self control, as I didn't want any ISS.

Moving on, he stole the cookie. At this point in my life, I knew that the snack line lady would do fuck all to help me. No one ever did.That's when I did the only thing I could do. I walked up to him, and asked politely for my cookie back. (yeah, If politely means "threatening everything they know and love.")

.

.

.

(What?)

How 'bout you have a nice big can of "You better shut up or I will sew your mouth closed."

.

.

.

Good. His reply was extremely vulgar. I'm not going to say it, but it had something to do with dead babies.  After that, he pulled out something shiny.

And sharp.

It only took one good slice.