The next day proved to be more eventful than the last. After coming home from visiting his future home, he was confronted by his parents wondering where he had been for the past five hours. Apparently they hadn’t bought his hanging out with friends excuse. Instead of lying more John decided to go with the partial truth. He told them honestly it was nothing for them to worry about and that it would all make sense by next Monday.

The new week brought new challenges, starting right off the bat. As he pulled into his normal parking spot he noticed that the girl from the blue sedan and the football trucker were arguing. Well, it looked more like the football jerk was harassing the girl. Looking on John decided that it had nothing to do with him so he tried to ignore them.  He pulled off his helmet and prepared to go to class. The shouting grew and grew, and they started to draw more attention. Most people just walked past quietly muttering to their friends.

“Shit this has to stop” John quietly muttered under his breath. How was he supposed to go about breaking up this fight? It seemed they were arguing over the parking of the girl. And the football player seemed quite unhappy that he didn’t get his usual two spaces. Which was the girl’s exact point, that could be heard as she yelled back now at the football player, evidently having lost her composure?  “Well, I wouldn’t mind not having that dick park close to me, not once has he been in anyway nice.” The thought crossed Johns mind.

“Fuck it” John muttered again. As he moved closer he noticed that the boy was getting more and more agitated. He was balling his fists up so tight his knuckles were white. His face was bright red with anger. He wouldn’t hit this girl would he? He wouldn’t stoop that low. He must realize that after doing something like that he would be unredeemable in everyone’s eye. Unfortunately, this thought must not have crossed the boy’s mind as he drew back his arm to land a heavy blow straight to the girl’s face. John knew it was a heavy blow because he had taken the impact of it. As soon as the football player had drawn back his fist, John had picked up his pace till he had his body in front of the girl directly between the two. Being taller than the girl by a good three inches the fist was now aimed for his chest. Catching it in his hand, John was able to slow the punch down a lot before it made contact with his body. It still was enough to send him back a foot. The punch didn’t hurt it simply had a pushing force behind it, staggering him backward.  

“Now you wouldn’t hit a girl would you?” John asked mockingly trying to downplay the whole situation.

“Shut the fuck up, man. This bitch is a fucking nightmare, get the fuck out of the way before I bring you down!” The boy yelled with a true hatred in his voice.

“Hey now, why don’t we all take a breather here. No one needs to get hit. Let’s just move on with our day.” John still standing between the two noted the rage steadily building in his opposer.

“I’m serious man get the fuck out of the way!” The football player screamed as he drew back for another punch ready to through another haymaker. Luckily these were easy enough to dodge being the long wind up gave away everything. The fist came forward with surprising ferocity but a simple step back put the fist clearly out of range. Once the fist had past and the boy’s body now doubled over left him completely exposed. A clean punch to the face would most likely leave him unconscious, releasing him from responsibility and embarrassment after he fell. John didn’t want that, despite his outside appearance he had become extremely angry. This mother fucker had thrown two punches purposely trying to hit this girl and himself. Unfortunately, John was going to have to release some of his inner demons in this fight. He kept his dangerous side under wraps as much as possible because when it came out bad things would always ensue. John wanted to cause this boy pain. He wanted it more than anything else at that moment, he wanted to terrify this boy. To make sure he never fucked with him again. Normally a nice threatening was enough to keep people in check but now he would have to back up his words. With one swift extremely powerful uppercut that landed directly in the center of his body right below his ribcage, John pushed his fist upward into his lungs. The punch was a powerful one,  he had learned it back when he boxed and new how his opponent would react. Against an unflexed core the punch knocked the wind out of your system while doing a number on your insides. It worked perfectly.

Doubled over in pain the football player now lay retching on the ground, vomit covered his upper torso and was dripping onto the ground. With the vomit coming out and the inability to breathe, the whole experience is quite frightening. Striding over, John lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder pressing his thumb into the boy’s collarbone directly on a pressure point and forced him to stay down. John leaned over to the boy’s ear and started to speak.

“Listen to me mother fucker, don’t ever try and swing at me again. And if I so much as fucking see you near this parking space I will beat you into a fucking coma. And when your parents are standing around their lifeless boy’s body, I will walk up and pull the fucking plug in front of them. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, or that girl. Do you fucking understand me.” John said all of this not yelling but in a controlled, deep, scratchy voice. Soft enough that no one else would hear. He leaned back to wait for a response, when he got none, John pushed his thumb onto the pressure point till the boys screamed in agony.

“Well?” John asked again, and again the boy did not answer, most likely couldn’t. The wind had been knocked out of him so thoroughly that he could barely breathe. He gasped for breaths through the vomit still dripping out of his mouth. Again John grabbed the pressure point again just hard enough to see tears well up in the boy’s eyes, John then proceeded to slam the boys face into vomit covered cement grinding it in till the boy’s skin was rubbed off the front of his face. Blood also poured out of the boy’s nose most likely broken from the hit on the cement.

“That’s enough!” A hand grabbed at Johns’ shoulder. The startling voice had brought him back to his surroundings. Thank god, he had gone too far but had been unable to stop. He let go of the boy’s shoulder letting him slump to the ground and curl up in pain. The mixture of blood, vomit, tears, and snot all pooled on the ground together. Swirling together into a dark brown sludge. The girl was standing behind him. The same girl that drove the blue car, the same girl that had woken him up from his nightmare, the same girl that looked back at him now with tearful terrified eyes, saddened him. He had done this, why, he had no idea, had he liked it, fuck had he liked it. Maybe he had maybe he enjoyed doing stuff like this. In the past, he had inflicted pain and worse on people but it had always been indirect. Looking back at his handy work revealed a six-foot tall, high school junior reduced to a blithering child curled on the ground begging for remorse. This image brought no pity, no sadness, only anger that he gave up that easy in John’s mind.

“I… I …I…” The girl stammered, looking for the right word to justify her feelings. She got no chance. John pushed her out of the way and headed to class.

Leaving the group of boys now surrounding their downed friend and the girl now backing away slowly, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm. In truth, he could not deny that he loved to fight. He loved inflicting pain on those he deemed necessary. John had found out at a very young age that he had very little for a conscience which made him great with business, also fighting.  He had found out that not everyone thought like him. Not everyone was able to truly see the logical side of life, instead, the idiots that shared the same classroom with him took to seeing things through an emotional light. When something bad happened to them it was the end of the world or everyone was being unfair. John saw all of this and decided to take advantage of all their flaws. Whenever something bad would happen he would capitalize. Back in middle school when he had not learned to keep himself in check. John had destroyed people’s futures, he had worked with a local weed dealer and made a deal. Every client John brought in, John earned 20% of the income that they would bring in. He had set up the meeting with this dealer with a fake name, just as a precaution and had come to the twenty percent margin after some haggling. knowing mood swings of nearly every person in his 800 students middle school helped. He saw people’s down days. He knew when parents were fighting by the way people reacted. John had used every dirty trick he could think of ending up signing up over 50% of his school mates. The case would later be known as the lincoln middle drug trade after the dealer now one of the biggest in the state’s history had been busted. He had tried to rat John out for a plea deal since John was on the most wanted list for hooking hundreds of students on drugs but failed due to the fake name John had provided, also each meeting was conducted under John’s rules meeting in dark places so that his identity would not be uncovered. During this period, John had personally seen to three funerals and had even gone as far to say how very sorry he was to the parents of the child’s life that he had ruined, completely unbeknownst to the parent. Personally, John had never Done drugs himself. He knew that his extremely addictive personality would surely get him in trouble.

It fascinated him, for the little conscience that John still possessed, it was quite strong. In the moment he would never feel sorrow or remorse for what he had done, in fact, he wished he could have done more, netting him a profit of over 5 grand in one month from his own drug trade.  But at night feelings would come back to him in a form of terror. John had long since equated his recurring nightmare to stress build up from his many almost daily heinous acts, which mostly consisted of lying and manipulation.

Which was why John found it so strange that his nightmare had come back worse than ever. He had not done anything extremely bad in the last couple of days, why was the nightmare getting worse. These musing distracted his mind so much that the shouting of his name down the hall was barely audible in the back of his mind.

“John, Stop Right There!” Emphasis fell on each word as if a cop were arresting a criminal. Turning around found the school police officer, a short fat man nicknamed officer porkins by the students, and the dean of students right behind him. The dean was a tall man, slender face, and a narrow nose. Lucky, the dean’s daughter had been one who had died of a drug overdose through John’s escapades. Which made him extremely vulnerable to mental manipulation.

“Yes?”   John’s answer seemed to startle them more than if he had come around and started swinging at them. In fact, porkins had instinctively reached for his taser.

“You aren’t going to tase me are you?” John’s question felt heavy in the air, the strange relaxed joking tone throwing the two adults off.

“Not if I don’t have to.” The words were dry with no remorse, in fact, John knew very little about porkins. His background was a mystery. Luckily he would not have to convince him of anything.

“Why don’t you come with us?” The dean phrased it as a question, but John knew that there was no option here. He was going to have to talk his way out of this. He didn’t have time to deal with suspension. His parents would get up in arms about his whole life and he could not have that.

“That’s fine,” John responded cleanly and kindly.

“Let’s go.” The two adults said together, and walking on either side of John and escorted him to the dean’s office.

The next day proved to be more eventful than the last. After coming home from visiting his future home, he was confronted by his parents wondering where he had been for the past five hours. Apparently they hadn’t bought his hanging out with friends excuse. Instead of lying more John decided to go with the partial truth. He told them honestly it was nothing for them to worry about and that it would all make sense by next Monday.

The new week brought new challenges, starting right off the bat. As he pulled into his normal parking spot he noticed that the girl from the blue sedan and the football trucker were arguing. Well, it looked more like the football jerk was harassing the girl. Looking on John decided that it had nothing to do with him so he tried to ignore them.  He pulled off his helmet and prepared to go to class. The shouting grew and grew, and they started to draw more attention. Most people just walked past quietly muttering to their friends.

“Shit this has to stop” John quietly muttered under his breath. How was he supposed to go about breaking up this fight? It seemed they were arguing over the parking of the girl. And the football player seemed quite unhappy that he didn’t get his usual two spaces. Which was the girl’s exact point, that could be heard as she yelled back now at the football player, evidently having lost her composure?  “Well, I wouldn’t mind not having that dick park close to me, not once has he been in anyway nice.” The thought crossed Johns mind.

“Fuck it” John muttered again. As he moved closer he noticed that the boy was getting more and more agitated. He was balling his fists up so tight his knuckles were white. His face was bright red with anger. He wouldn’t hit this girl would he? He wouldn’t stoop that low. He must realize that after doing something like that he would be unredeemable in everyone’s eye. Unfortunately, this thought must not have crossed the boy’s mind as he drew back his arm to land a heavy blow straight to the girl’s face. John knew it was a heavy blow because he had taken the impact of it. As soon as the football player had drawn back his fist, John had picked up his pace till he had his body in front of the girl directly between the two. Being taller than the girl by a good three inches the fist was now aimed for his chest. Catching it in his hand, John was able to slow the punch down a lot before it made contact with his body. It still was enough to send him back a foot. The punch didn’t hurt it simply had a pushing force behind it, staggering him backward.  

“Now you wouldn’t hit a girl would you?” John asked mockingly trying to downplay the whole situation.

“Shut the fuck up, man. This bitch is a fucking nightmare, get the fuck out of the way before I bring you down!” The boy yelled with a true hatred in his voice.

“Hey now, why don’t we all take a breather here. No one needs to get hit. Let’s just move on with our day.” John still standing between the two noted the rage steadily building in his opposer.

“I’m serious man get the fuck out of the way!” The football player screamed as he drew back for another punch ready to through another haymaker. Luckily these were easy enough to dodge being the long wind up gave away everything. The fist came forward with surprising ferocity but a simple step back put the fist clearly out of range. Once the fist had past and the boy’s body now doubled over left him completely exposed. A clean punch to the face would most likely leave him unconscious, releasing him from responsibility and embarrassment after he fell. John didn’t want that, despite his outside appearance he had become extremely angry. This mother fucker had thrown two punches purposely trying to hit this girl and himself. Unfortunately, John was going to have to release some of his inner demons in this fight. He kept his dangerous side under wraps as much as possible because when it came out bad things would always ensue. John wanted to cause this boy pain. He wanted it more than anything else at that moment, he wanted to terrify this boy. To make sure he never fucked with him again. Normally a nice threatening was enough to keep people in check but now he would have to back up his words. With one swift extremely powerful uppercut that landed directly in the center of his body right below his ribcage, John pushed his fist upward into his lungs. The punch was a powerful one,  he had learned it back when he boxed and new how his opponent would react. Against an unflexed core the punch knocked the wind out of your system while doing a number on your insides. It worked perfectly.

Doubled over in pain the football player now lay retching on the ground, vomit covered his upper torso and was dripping onto the ground. With the vomit coming out and the inability to breathe, the whole experience is quite frightening. Striding over, John lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder pressing his thumb into the boy’s collarbone directly on a pressure point and forced him to stay down. John leaned over to the boy’s ear and started to speak.

“Listen to me mother fucker, don’t ever try and swing at me again. And if I so much as fucking see you near this parking space I will beat you into a fucking coma. And when your parents are standing around their lifeless boy’s body, I will walk up and pull the fucking plug in front of them. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, or that girl. Do you fucking understand me.” John said all of this not yelling but in a controlled, deep, scratchy voice. Soft enough that no one else would hear. He leaned back to wait for a response, when he got none, John pushed his thumb onto the pressure point till the boys screamed in agony.

“Well?” John asked again, and again the boy did not answer, most likely couldn’t. The wind had been knocked out of him so thoroughly that he could barely breathe. He gasped for breaths through the vomit still dripping out of his mouth. Again John grabbed the pressure point again just hard enough to see tears well up in the boy’s eyes, John then proceeded to slam the boys face into vomit covered cement grinding it in till the boy’s skin was rubbed off the front of his face. Blood also poured out of the boy’s nose most likely broken from the hit on the cement.

“That’s enough!” A hand grabbed at Johns’ shoulder. The startling voice had brought him back to his surroundings. Thank god, he had gone too far but had been unable to stop. He let go of the boy’s shoulder letting him slump to the ground and curl up in pain. The mixture of blood, vomit, tears, and snot all pooled on the ground together. Swirling together into a dark brown sludge. The girl was standing behind him. The same girl that drove the blue car, the same girl that had woken him up from his nightmare, the same girl that looked back at him now with tearful terrified eyes, saddened him. He had done this, why, he had no idea, had he liked it, fuck had he liked it. Maybe he had maybe he enjoyed doing stuff like this. In the past, he had inflicted pain and worse on people but it had always been indirect. Looking back at his handy work revealed a six-foot tall, high school junior reduced to a blithering child curled on the ground begging for remorse. This image brought no pity, no sadness, only anger that he gave up that easy in John’s mind.

“I… I …I…” The girl stammered, looking for the right word to justify her feelings. She got no chance. John pushed her out of the way and headed to class.

Leaving the group of boys now surrounding their downed friend and the girl now backing away slowly, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm. In truth, he could not deny that he loved to fight. He loved inflicting pain on those he deemed necessary. John had found out at a very young age that he had very little for a conscience which made him great with business, also fighting.  He had found out that not everyone thought like him. Not everyone was able to truly see the logical side of life, instead, the idiots that shared the same classroom with him took to seeing things through an emotional light. When something bad happened to them it was the end of the world or everyone was being unfair. John saw all of this and decided to take advantage of all their flaws. Whenever something bad would happen he would capitalize. Back in middle school when he had not learned to keep himself in check. John had destroyed people’s futures, he had worked with a local weed dealer and made a deal. Every client John brought in, John earned 20% of the income that they would bring in. He had set up the meeting with this dealer with a fake name, just as a precaution and had come to the twenty percent margin after some haggling. knowing mood swings of nearly every person in his 800 students middle school helped. He saw people’s down days. He knew when parents were fighting by the way people reacted. John had used every dirty trick he could think of ending up signing up over 50% of his school mates. The case would later be known as the lincoln middle drug trade after the dealer now one of the biggest in the state’s history had been busted. He had tried to rat John out for a plea deal since John was on the most wanted list for hooking hundreds of students on drugs but failed due to the fake name John had provided, also each meeting was conducted under John’s rules meeting in dark places so that his identity would not be uncovered. During this period, John had personally seen to three funerals and had even gone as far to say how very sorry he was to the parents of the child’s life that he had ruined, completely unbeknownst to the parent. Personally, John had never Done drugs himself. He knew that his extremely addictive personality would surely get him in trouble.

It fascinated him, for the little conscience that John still possessed, it was quite strong. In the moment he would never feel sorrow or remorse for what he had done, in fact, he wished he could have done more, netting him a profit of over 5 grand in one month from his own drug trade.  But at night feelings would come back to him in a form of terror. John had long since equated his recurring nightmare to stress build up from his many almost daily heinous acts, which mostly consisted of lying and manipulation.

Which was why John found it so strange that his nightmare had come back worse than ever. He had not done anything extremely bad in the last couple of days, why was the nightmare getting worse. These musing distracted his mind so much that the shouting of his name down the hall was barely audible in the back of his mind.

“John, Stop Right There!” Emphasis fell on each word as if a cop were arresting a criminal. Turning around found the school police officer, a short fat man nicknamed officer porkins by the students, and the dean of students right behind him. The dean was a tall man, slender face, and a narrow nose. Lucky, the dean’s daughter had been one who had died of a drug overdose through John’s escapades. Which made him extremely vulnerable to mental manipulation.

“Yes?”   John’s answer seemed to startle them more than if he had come around and started swinging at them. In fact, porkins had instinctively reached for his taser.

“You aren’t going to tase me are you?” John’s question felt heavy in the air, the strange relaxed joking tone throwing the two adults off.

“Not if I don’t have to.” The words were dry with no remorse, in fact, John knew very little about porkins. His background was a mystery. Luckily he would not have to convince him of anything.

“Why don’t you come with us?” The dean phrased it as a question, but John knew that there was no option here. He was going to have to talk his way out of this. He didn’t have time to deal with suspension. His parents would get up in arms about his whole life and he could not have that.

“That’s fine,” John responded cleanly and kindly.

“Let’s go.” The two adults said together, and walking on either side of John and escorted him to the dean’s office.

The next day proved to be more eventful than the last. After coming home from visiting his future home, he was confronted by his parents wondering where he had been for the past five hours. Apparently they hadn’t bought his hanging out with friends excuse. Instead of lying more John decided to go with the partial truth. He told them honestly it was nothing for them to worry about and that it would all make sense by next Monday.

The new week brought new challenges, starting right off the bat. As he pulled into his normal parking spot he noticed that the girl from the blue sedan and the football trucker were arguing. Well, it looked more like the football jerk was harassing the girl. Looking on John decided that it had nothing to do with him so he tried to ignore them.  He pulled off his helmet and prepared to go to class. The shouting grew and grew, and they started to draw more attention. Most people just walked past quietly muttering to their friends.

“Shit this has to stop” John quietly muttered under his breath. How was he supposed to go about breaking up this fight? It seemed they were arguing over the parking of the girl. And the football player seemed quite unhappy that he didn’t get his usual two spaces. Which was the girl’s exact point, that could be heard as she yelled back now at the football player, evidently having lost her composure?  “Well, I wouldn’t mind not having that dick park close to me, not once has he been in anyway nice.” The thought crossed Johns mind.

“Fuck it” John muttered again. As he moved closer he noticed that the boy was getting more and more agitated. He was balling his fists up so tight his knuckles were white. His face was bright red with anger. He wouldn’t hit this girl would he? He wouldn’t stoop that low. He must realize that after doing something like that he would be unredeemable in everyone’s eye. Unfortunately, this thought must not have crossed the boy’s mind as he drew back his arm to land a heavy blow straight to the girl’s face. John knew it was a heavy blow because he had taken the impact of it. As soon as the football player had drawn back his fist, John had picked up his pace till he had his body in front of the girl directly between the two. Being taller than the girl by a good three inches the fist was now aimed for his chest. Catching it in his hand, John was able to slow the punch down a lot before it made contact with his body. It still was enough to send him back a foot. The punch didn’t hurt it simply had a pushing force behind it, staggering him backward.  

“Now you wouldn’t hit a girl would you?” John asked mockingly trying to downplay the whole situation.

“Shut the fuck up, man. This bitch is a fucking nightmare, get the fuck out of the way before I bring you down!” The boy yelled with a true hatred in his voice.

“Hey now, why don’t we all take a breather here. No one needs to get hit. Let’s just move on with our day.” John still standing between the two noted the rage steadily building in his opposer.

“I’m serious man get the fuck out of the way!” The football player screamed as he drew back for another punch ready to through another haymaker. Luckily these were easy enough to dodge being the long wind up gave away everything. The fist came forward with surprising ferocity but a simple step back put the fist clearly out of range. Once the fist had past and the boy’s body now doubled over left him completely exposed. A clean punch to the face would most likely leave him unconscious, releasing him from responsibility and embarrassment after he fell. John didn’t want that, despite his outside appearance he had become extremely angry. This mother fucker had thrown two punches purposely trying to hit this girl and himself. Unfortunately, John was going to have to release some of his inner demons in this fight. He kept his dangerous side under wraps as much as possible because when it came out bad things would always ensue. John wanted to cause this boy pain. He wanted it more than anything else at that moment, he wanted to terrify this boy. To make sure he never fucked with him again. Normally a nice threatening was enough to keep people in check but now he would have to back up his words. With one swift extremely powerful uppercut that landed directly in the center of his body right below his ribcage, John pushed his fist upward into his lungs. The punch was a powerful one,  he had learned it back when he boxed and new how his opponent would react. Against an unflexed core the punch knocked the wind out of your system while doing a number on your insides. It worked perfectly.

Doubled over in pain the football player now lay retching on the ground, vomit covered his upper torso and was dripping onto the ground. With the vomit coming out and the inability to breathe, the whole experience is quite frightening. Striding over, John lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder pressing his thumb into the boy’s collarbone directly on a pressure point and forced him to stay down. John leaned over to the boy’s ear and started to speak.

“Listen to me mother fucker, don’t ever try and swing at me again. And if I so much as fucking see you near this parking space I will beat you into a fucking coma. And when your parents are standing around their lifeless boy’s body, I will walk up and pull the fucking plug in front of them. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, or that girl. Do you fucking understand me.” John said all of this not yelling but in a controlled, deep, scratchy voice. Soft enough that no one else would hear. He leaned back to wait for a response, when he got none, John pushed his thumb onto the pressure point till the boys screamed in agony.

“Well?” John asked again, and again the boy did not answer, most likely couldn’t. The wind had been knocked out of him so thoroughly that he could barely breathe. He gasped for breaths through the vomit still dripping out of his mouth. Again John grabbed the pressure point again just hard enough to see tears well up in the boy’s eyes, John then proceeded to slam the boys face into vomit covered cement grinding it in till the boy’s skin was rubbed off the front of his face. Blood also poured out of the boy’s nose most likely broken from the hit on the cement.

“That’s enough!” A hand grabbed at Johns’ shoulder. The startling voice had brought him back to his surroundings. Thank god, he had gone too far but had been unable to stop. He let go of the boy’s shoulder letting him slump to the ground and curl up in pain. The mixture of blood, vomit, tears, and snot all pooled on the ground together. Swirling together into a dark brown sludge. The girl was standing behind him. The same girl that drove the blue car, the same girl that had woken him up from his nightmare, the same girl that looked back at him now with tearful terrified eyes, saddened him. He had done this, why, he had no idea, had he liked it, fuck had he liked it. Maybe he had maybe he enjoyed doing stuff like this. In the past, he had inflicted pain and worse on people but it had always been indirect. Looking back at his handy work revealed a six-foot tall, high school junior reduced to a blithering child curled on the ground begging for remorse. This image brought no pity, no sadness, only anger that he gave up that easy in John’s mind.

“I… I …I…” The girl stammered, looking for the right word to justify her feelings. She got no chance. John pushed her out of the way and headed to class.

Leaving the group of boys now surrounding their downed friend and the girl now backing away slowly, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm. In truth, he could not deny that he loved to fight. He loved inflicting pain on those he deemed necessary. John had found out at a very young age that he had very little for a conscience which made him great with business, also fighting.  He had found out that not everyone thought like him. Not everyone was able to truly see the logical side of life, instead, the idiots that shared the same classroom with him took to seeing things through an emotional light. When something bad happened to them it was the end of the world or everyone was being unfair. John saw all of this and decided to take advantage of all their flaws. Whenever something bad would happen he would capitalize. Back in middle school when he had not learned to keep himself in check. John had destroyed people’s futures, he had worked with a local weed dealer and made a deal. Every client John brought in, John earned 20% of the income that they would bring in. He had set up the meeting with this dealer with a fake name, just as a precaution and had come to the twenty percent margin after some haggling. knowing mood swings of nearly every person in his 800 students middle school helped. He saw people’s down days. He knew when parents were fighting by the way people reacted. John had used every dirty trick he could think of ending up signing up over 50% of his school mates. The case would later be known as the lincoln middle drug trade after the dealer now one of the biggest in the state’s history had been busted. He had tried to rat John out for a plea deal since John was on the most wanted list for hooking hundreds of students on drugs but failed due to the fake name John had provided, also each meeting was conducted under John’s rules meeting in dark places so that his identity would not be uncovered. During this period, John had personally seen to three funerals and had even gone as far to say how very sorry he was to the parents of the child’s life that he had ruined, completely unbeknownst to the parent. Personally, John had never Done drugs himself. He knew that his extremely addictive personality would surely get him in trouble.

It fascinated him, for the little conscience that John still possessed, it was quite strong. In the moment he would never feel sorrow or remorse for what he had done, in fact, he wished he could have done more, netting him a profit of over 5 grand in one month from his own drug trade.  But at night feelings would come back to him in a form of terror. John had long since equated his recurring nightmare to stress build up from his many almost daily heinous acts, which mostly consisted of lying and manipulation.

Which was why John found it so strange that his nightmare had come back worse than ever. He had not done anything extremely bad in the last couple of days, why was the nightmare getting worse. These musing distracted his mind so much that the shouting of his name down the hall was barely audible in the back of his mind.

“John, Stop Right There!” Emphasis fell on each word as if a cop were arresting a criminal. Turning around found the school police officer, a short fat man nicknamed officer porkins by the students, and the dean of students right behind him. The dean was a tall man, slender face, and a narrow nose. Lucky, the dean’s daughter had been one who had died of a drug overdose through John’s escapades. Which made him extremely vulnerable to mental manipulation.

“Yes?”   John’s answer seemed to startle them more than if he had come around and started swinging at them. In fact, porkins had instinctively reached for his taser.

“You aren’t going to tase me are you?” John’s question felt heavy in the air, the strange relaxed joking tone throwing the two adults off.

“Not if I don’t have to.” The words were dry with no remorse, in fact, John knew very little about porkins. His background was a mystery. Luckily he would not have to convince him of anything.

“Why don’t you come with us?” The dean phrased it as a question, but John knew that there was no option here. He was going to have to talk his way out of this. He didn’t have time to deal with suspension. His parents would get up in arms about his whole life and he could not have that.

“That’s fine,” John responded cleanly and kindly.

“Let’s go.” The two adults said together, and walking on either side of John and escorted him to the dean’s office.

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