Three people voted.
A. 1
B. 2
C. 0
Kenny has decided to give the homeless man money after shopping.
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I wave at the man and tell him I'll be back soon. His eyes follow me as I walk away.
Brakley's is just down the road. Taking a seat outside the store, and look back at the old man up the road. His eyes are still locked on me. Uncomfortable, I shift and look down.
When I looks back out of the corner of my eye, he's gone. Confused, I stand back up and begin walking back to where he had been. I'd only looked down for a second.
Behind me I heard footsteps. For a moment I thought it might be the man, but that wouldn't make sense. As I listened I realized it was collective footsteps. I turned and saw them, but not before they saw me.
"Well if it isn't Kenny Gritt," Ronald said. Ronald Leagues was a tall guy with a punchable face that no one could ever seen to reach. At six feet two inches, he towers over his fellow tenth graders in school, just as he is now. "Or are you going by your Pothead mom's last name? What is it? Thompson? Frents? Guess it all depends on who she's fucking right now."
His friends behind him laugh. One of them, Brent Darts, stepped up. Unlike Ronald, Brent was fairly short, but much stronger. He pushed me against the store wall. The glass shook behind me. "You know she's the reason my parents divorced right?." He pushed me further into the glass, his hand around my neck.
"Got my dad arrested too," Jonathan Paul added. "Sold him some of that cocaine."
I looked at Jonathan. I'd heard Brent's story a thousand times, but Jonathan just recently started following Ronald. His story was fresh, and it only gave people all the more reason to hate me.
Brent tightened his grip. "Got anything to say?"
I looked him in the eyes. "It's not her fault...," I coughed,"that your dad was horny."
His fist met my face. His grip held me in place. A steady stream of blood began flowing from my nose, and I could feel my eye swelling. Ronald grinned and gestured for Brent to let go. I slumped against Brakley's and looked up at him. He seemed to notice the slight bump in my pocket.
"Got some money on you?" He goes for my pocket, but I push his hand away. For this, Brent kicks me in the side. I fall over as Ronald pulls my wallet out of my pocket. "$200?" He smiles at me, and to top it all of he spits on my face. Disgusted, I wipe my face off and look away.
That's when I see it, the bottle, broken and jagged, and next to it is a small cigarette. It's still burning.
In an instant I realize what I can do. The only question is: should I?
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A. Take the bottle and stab Ronald fatally
B: Take the bottle and only injure Ronald
C. Burn Ronald with the cigarette
D. Do not attack Ronald
