A Street Corner Worker Says I Have a Gun? ©

I’ve been the subject of a number of rumors in my schools through the years, Skyler hates short kids, Skyler poohed in the pool, Skyler eats tree bark, but none were as bad as one. It started with a joke by a girl who read vampire erotica at the lunch table. Let’s call her Janine. She was talking about people she hated.
“If I had a hit list that whore would be at the very top!” Janine used over and over again until everyone had finally heard her.
“I’m sure Harold would be at the top of yours Skyler,” chuckled Cynthia. We all thought that to be funny since he was the one who spread the rumor about me hating short people so a new kid would be his friend on not mine.
Since we were all seventh graders and were too stupid to realize how dangerous a joke like that is, I thought it was funny and told a friend. I’m going to call him Leon. Leon thought it was funny and, at the time, had a huge mouth. He claims he told someone who told a certain bastard but I’m confident he’s the one that told Harold. You’d think I’d rename both of them something even worse.
This was gold to Harold since he was a follower of the fake being you might know as Satan. He told everyone he could as quickly as his huge ADHD driven mouth could speak.
The next day was hell. After I put my stuff in my locker and walked over to my friend Eve’s locker. A few of my friends are already there talking.
“Skyler! There’s a rumor swirling about you having a hit list! What the hell?” Leah tried to whisper but was very unsuccessful.
“What? What are you talking about…?” I almost finished what I was saying when out of nowhere came a huge mob of the biggest douche bags and bimbos the school over.
“IS IT TRUE YOU HAVE A HIT LIST?” Carl started yelling.
“IS IT TRUE I’M NUMBER THREE?” Fecalstein, as I liked to call him, started panting.
The very stupidest people North Junior High had to offer were belaboring me with angry, scared questions and I had no clue what was happening.
“What are you talking about? I HAVE NO HIT LIST!” I started yelling, I just wanted them to get lost.
“OH MY GOD HE’S GOT A GUN IN HIS LOCKER! RUN! HE’S GOT A GUN!” Deborah Dipshit started cackling, running up and down the hall.
At that, my friends and I started trying to escape the army of underwear-less, street corner clients and workers.
A few days later it wasn’t getting any better and even the potheads had something to say about it. Enough was enough and Eve and my other friend Hannah took me to see the school counselor at lunch after Harold made his rounds to make fun of my pain.
“Hey Skyler, I hear you got a hit list. What number am I?” He chuckled and then walked on by. What I lovely person, I thought.
At the counselor’s office, after I explained the situation and she then told Eve and Hannah to go back to lunch, there came the usual counselor answer, “What do you think you should say next time you’re confronted with this that will give a better outcome?”
I been dealing with counselor’s asking the, what should you do better next time, question for years but still can never answer it in a way that doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
“I don’t know. Calmly tell hem there’s no hit list and that they have no need to worry?” I answered. I never said I couldn’t answer those questions.
“Yes, or you could just ignore them. If they feel afraid they’ll just come to me and I’ll explain that nothing’s wrong. You only have to tell me,” She calmly said in that school counselor voice as if she truly believed that would actually work and as if people actually all go to her all the time.
“Wouldn’t telling them that it’s not true right away be more…effective?” I was thinking less stupid but wouldn’t say that.
“Just leave it to me,” she said dipping her head slightly to say just that.
As she went on and on about nothing of importance to me at all, I started looking at the clock about every two seconds waiting to leave.
“You’ll get back to lunch before the bell don’t worry,” she tried to convince me. There were five minutes left.
Once she finally let me leave she assured me she’d want to check back with me in a few days. Lovely, I thought, I’m gonna have to do this again.
True to her word I was called in again during the middle of band class. That wasn’t too horrible, it’s Mr. D. Lo. Versus Mrs. Counselor Lady. I never could remember her name.
This time it wasn’t just Mrs. Counselor Lady. No, there was also Mrs. Vice Principal Lady. After the exact same speech as last time, they ask me how I was doing and then I told them there was no difference. That’s when Mrs. VP Lady told me that parents were calling in afraid for their children’s lives. WHAT THE FURK? How was this seriously happening to me? How could such a small, little boy who likes to wrestle with other boys spread such a terrible rumor?
After the speech that came after that, Mrs. VP lady gave me her card with her number for my parents and they sent me back to class.
After a while the rumor did start to go away but never quite died. Even now it’s occasionally mentioned and is always followed by me screaming at the top of my longs that there was never a hit list. And as I write this I realize something, I never did get back at Leon for being such a dumb ass. I’m making that my New Year’s Resolution for this year.