Written by Nathaniel Tong (age 10)
It was a cloudy winter day with mounds of dirty-brown snow on the sidewalk. A chilling breeze swept through the air. A car rumbled to a stop, and ten-year-old Jeremy Smith hopped out. Jeremy swung his backpack onto his shoulder and walked towards the entrance of his school. He shivered and picked up his pace, trying to protect himself from the biting cold. Jeremy reached the double doors and pushed them open.
Inside, the double doors creaked shut behind him. Jeremy stopped in front of his locker to unlock the padlock dangling from the handle.
After he shoved all his stuff into his locker, including the two textbooks he needed for first period, he walked to class. He he’d just set his things down when he heard the entrance door across the hall creak again, signaling that more students were arriving. The next person to enter was Johnny Tribble, who came in wearing a rattled expression.
“What happened to you?” Jeremy asked. Johnny didn’t respond.
He moved past Jeremy without a glance, steps dragging as if he were trying to make himself smaller. When he plopped down into his seat, his textbooks fell from his arms and hit the floor with a thud that made a few students look up. Johnny didn’t. He just stared at nothing with an expression of shame and defeat.
Jeremy looked at Johnny wondering what was with him, but after a few more students arrived, Jeremy decided to drop it. If Jeremy had looked a moment longer, he would’ve noticed that the uppermost pocket of his backpack, which was where Johnny always kept his lunch money, was gaping open and empty. He might’ve also heard the cruel laughter of a couple of people down the hall before it was silenced by the classroom door slamming shut.
After the first period, Jeremy gathered up all his stuff and stepped out. The hallway was abuzz with busy students all trying to avoid detention, a fate so grim even the lockers whispered warnings.
Jeremy walked down the hall to his locker. After stuffing his things inside and pulling out a textbook, he slammed the door shut. When he turned around, something at the far end of the hallway made him stop cold. More specifically, someone. Trenton Teryl, the school’s resident bully and all‑time terrorizer (as everyone called him when he wasn’t around), was heading straight toward him.
Trenton was accompanied by three of his ugly, disgusting goons, all laughing and burping and passing gas in perfect harmony. They didn’t seem to notice him, but when Jeremy froze, someone bumped into him, knocking his heavy textbook out of his hands. It hit the floor with a thud that silenced the entire hallway. After a couple of seconds, everyone went back to what they were doing—everyone except Trenton, whose eyes locked onto the source of the noise as he began tromping toward him. Jeremy suddenly found himself clutching the pocket where he kept his lunch money, then quickly snatched up his textbook and tried to make it to his second period.
He was almost at the door when Trenton caught up with him. Trenton stepped in front of Jeremy, planted a meaty hand on Jeremy’s chest and shoved him backward. Jeremy hit the slick marble floor with a thud that knocked the wind out of him, sliding several feet away from the door to class, and his escape to freedom, before he stopped. Trenton started toward him, closing the distance
alarmingly fast.
Time seemed to stop as Jeremy’s mind raced for an escape route. As Trenton closed in, Jeremy reached into the pocket that didn’t hold his lunch money and pulled his hand out in a tight fist, hoping it looked convincing. “Here’s the money!” he blurted. “It’s the money you want, right?”
Trenton flashed a shark-like smile. “What else would I want?”
With that, Jeremy shifted his right hand over his left, pretending to pass the money between them. Then he, as a magician’s sleight of hand, hurled the imaginary cash past Trenton and flashed his now‑empty hand up as proof. Trenton spun around, searching for the nonexistent bills.
As he did, Jeremy bolted forward, darting left and right like a panicked squirrel to avoid Trenton’s goons reaching for him. He heard the bell ring, signaling the next period. But Jeremy didn’t think much of it seeing as he was in the middle of a situation.
“Hey! Get back here right now, or I’ll pound you,” Trenton shouted before running after Jeremy, not noticing a hall monitor who had just walked out of a classroom. Seeing Trenton running, she yelled out at him to stop, then handed him a detention slip.
After the hall monitor finished, Trenton moved toward Jeremy again. Nothing could stop him now. He had a job–and he intended to finish it.
Jeremy reached the door to his next period just as Trenton, only a few meters behind, lunged at him, nostrils flared, eyes blazing like a charging bull.
His fingers brushed one of the straps on Jeremy’s backpack before the door slammed shut with a bang, blowing his hair back. Trenton seethed, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. Then he realized he was late for class, which, unfortunately for him, earned him yet another detention.
Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief, proud of himself for escaping the bully.
“Young man, you are already late. My class is starting, and you are preventing it. Please take a seat,” the teacher said.
“Okay. I kind of dropped my textbook in the hall and then some more stuff hap–”
“SIT DOWN,” bellowed the teacher. Jeremy scurried to his seat, keeping his head bowed low.
Throughout the class, Jeremy wondered if slipping away from Trenton had really been the best idea. He knew he’d probably made the bully furious with that little trick, and Trenton would almost definitely come looking for him.
After class, Jeremy beelined for his locker, determined to spend as little time in the hallway as possible. He made it to the cafeteria with his lunch money still safely in his pocket and over to the counter where lunch was sold. He bought a hamburger, fries, and grapes. He brought the tray over to a table in a forgotten corner of the cafeteria. It was the ideal place to sit down, rest, and eat
since Trenton and his goons always sat in the center of the lunch room and almost never left.
He finished off his grapes and got up to throw the plastic cup away. Unfortunately, the only trash can was on the other side of the cafeteria meaning he’d have to cross paths with Trenton and his goons. He saw a small jostling cluster of kids throwing their food away and decided to try and blend in with them.
He kept his head low so as to not draw attention to himself. He was almost to the trash can when one kid fell to the ground.
“Hey!” he shouted, “You’re not in our group.”
With a sinking sense of dread, Jeremy realized he was toast. As if in a horror movie, Jeremy watched as Trenton’s head swiveled around, and his eyes locked on him. Trenton lumbered forward, shoving the cluster of kids aside. He stopped right in front of Jeremy and cracked his knuckles. His goons fanned out around him.
“Hey, dweeb! We got a job to finish–you and me.” He looked at the empty grape cup.
“Since you already spent your lunch money, you’ll just have to pay me something else.”
Trenton raised a bandaged fist, likely still injured from his last fight, and prepared to pound Jeremy when a voice barked, “STOP!”
Trenton froze.
Jeremy blinked, realizing the voice had come from his own mouth. Newfound courage and anger surged through him as he stood before the kid who’d terrorized him since the third grade.
“Get away from me. NOW.”
Trenton stumbled back as if he’d been slapped. He had clearly never had anyone stand up to him before. His goons whispered something to each other, then they bolted.
A hush fell over the cafeteria. Jeremy suddenly became aware that they were standing in the center of the room–and everybody was staring at them. The cafeteria erupted in cheers.
Near the back of the crowd, Jeremy spotted Johnny Tribble smiling and talking to a group of other boys. Johnny said something and the other boys burst out in laughter. Johnny looked so different now. Instead of trying to be as small as possible, he was now standing straight and tall and confident.
As for Trenton, surrounded by the noise and the stares, he glanced around, stunned, and then bolted. He tore out of the cafeteria so fast that students jumped aside to avoid him, which, unfortunately for Trenton, earned him yet another detention. His goons quickly followed him but were pelted with assorted trash.
After lunch, came recess, and instead of wandering around alone, Jeremy found himself surrounded by students eager to shake his hand and introduce themselves. It felt strange at first, but he quickly adjusted to the sudden attention.
Across the yard, Trenton sat by himself in a corner, still trying to process what had happened.
Jeremy glanced around at the smiling faces gathered around him, realizing that they admired him for what he had done which sort of embarrassed him.
School was going to be different now. Jeremy no longer had to fear Trenton or any other bully, which was perfectly fine with him.
The bell rang, and Jeremy, along with the rest of the school, headed for the door. Trenton didn’t move; he just sat there, lost in thought. Until the recess monitor walked up and handed him a small paper detention slip.
.
Nathaniel Tong is 10 years old and was born in Arizona. He is currently a fifth grader in Illinois and enjoys reading and biking in his neighborhood. He is a black-belt in Taekwondo and likes to read and watch scary books and TV shows like “Stranger Things.”