by Patrick Goode

Created on: March 20, 2010

"You're nothing but a little punk!" Chris said as he laughed.

"Yeah, you think you're something special?  You're about as special as the gum on my shoe!  Just go home and cry to your mommy like the little girly girl that you are!" Eddie jeered.  The boy they were toying with, James, had lost his mom two years ago to cancer.  Her death was slow, deliberate, and all the while, James never left her side.  He really loved his mother, and with any other kid those insults they hurled at him would be enough to send him off the deep end; but not James.  James was strong, because his mother had told him before she died that James must be strong.  She had warned him about people like Chris and Eddie, so he knew why they were doing what they were doing.  He knew their pain.  They didn't know how much he empathized with them.

~ ~ ~

"Way to go Chris!  I bet he's gonna go home and whine like a little baby!" Eddie shouted.

"Yeah, I can hear it now!" Chris said as he imitated James' crying motions.  Chris didn't think Eddie knew what he was doing.  In all honesty, Chris hated this.  He hated himself for letting the mean side get the best of him.  For some strange reason, he just wanted to see the boy break.  Despite all the insults Chris hurled at the boy, the boy nevered seemed to lose it.  This is one strong little boy, Chris thought.  Chris couldn't stop the urge to try to destroy the boy.  Well, there was one way.

~ ~ ~

James didn't know what to do.  He wanted to be strong, and to the older boys who were making fun of him, he had left that encounter seeming strong; however, he was anything but strong.  He was weak.  He was weak because, although he empathized with them, he hated them with every fiber of his being.  He understood where they were coming from, but he knew how they could get of their desire to destroy him.  And, because they decided to remain in the muck of their bullying instead of living a better life, he hated them.  He wanted nothing more than to watch them suffer a horrible death, like his mother did.  He wanted them to feel the pain that she felt as she slowly walked through death's door.  But, he would be stronger than they are.  He would do something that would prove his inner strength, the same strength his mother commanded him to have.

~ ~ ~

Chris sat at the edge of the bridge, wondering how he had gotten this

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