Pigskin

By Aidan Dick
It all started at the Super Bowl featuring the Redskins against the Cowboys. After the game was over and the Redskins had won there was a drawing for the game ball.
“And now for the raffle, folks” blared the announcer. (Drum roll) “ 279” exclaimed the announcer.
The winner was a 28-year-old man named Eric Miller.
“ Would 279 come up to the both?” asked the announcer.
Eric went up to collect the ball and thought that, that was the best day of his life and that nothing could go wrong.
Of course some people got a little mad because they didn’t win the ball but a small group of people became very furious. After the game they followed Eric out of the stadium. When they were out in the parking lot one guy said, “ Hey give us the football”.
“Why would I give it to you losers?” replied Eric. “Your'e going to regret you ever said that skweert" said the guy. Then all five guys came charging at him. There were low punches, high kicks, face punches and knees to the stomach. Then one guy polled out a gun and BANG! The guys grabbed the ball and ran. Ambulances and cops came rushing to the scene but they were to late to catch the murderers. Eric’s family also rushed over. Eric’s mom weeped over him his dad was talking to the police and Eric’s brother was plotting revenge. Of course there was investigations on the murder. The information they gathered was that the fight was over a football and that one of the murderers name was Franklin Brown. Right when Peter, E ric’s brother found out that information about Eric’s murderer he was in his car and of on an adventure and he only had one thing on his mind revenge.

TO BE CONTINEUD…

Steven's Story

9/10/08
By Aidan
O.K. I know says Steven but everybody calls me Steve and so will you and if you don’t met me by the dumpster at 12:00. Now you think I’m violent well I’m not well o.k. I am but I wasn’t always, and this story explains it.
I was 12 years old at that age I was innocent, sweet and always played by the rules. I had parted hair and had boxy glasses with tape in the middle. I didn’t start getting bullied till 6th grade but it was verbal. Things like four eyes, momma’s boy and things like that so I ignored it. Then I went to 7th then people got violent not really violent but things like stuffing me in lockers and putting me in dumpsters. My home life wasn't helping ether. My dad was always drunk, my brother was high and my mom ran away. One day it was the straw that broke the camels back. The last straw was one day at school a boy walked up to me and punched me in the family jewels. From all the anger that was built up inside of me I exploded and I started to beat up on him like punches in the face hands around the neck and face slapping things like that. From then on I was a revenge machine. Who ever had teased me or bullied me before was getting beat up. I ditched the glases roughed up the hair an "boom" instantly a stud.

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