It was a hot and sunny day. Tom put on his cap and strapped his backpack on tight. Despite wearing his lucky socks and shoes today, nothing prepared him for what was going to happen.
“Mom!” he yelled. There was no response.
“Mom!!” he yelled again. Silence.
“Whatever!” he muttered to himself.
“Ya’ll is wack! I’m standing out here by meself, all alone, no supervision, and ya’ll not coming out to say goodbye to yo young ‘un? Alright! Imma go to school now!”
Tom stepped out of his home’s average-sized front porch and began walking towards his school.
Tom was a pimply faced teenager. He had brown hair, blue eyes, brown eyebrows, brown eyelashes, and a tiny scar on his left cheek from a fall when he was five. He was of average height but a little skinny for his weight. He liked to wear caps, especially when it was hot outside. He also wore a digital watch on his right wrist, despite being right-handed. His hobbies were cycling, video games and watching sports on TV. His favorite color was red, though occasionally he would lean towards blue or brown when there were no other choices.
The walk to school wasn’t supposed to take very long but for some reason today, the scorching sun seemed to make the road go on forever.
“Shite! Feels like me been walking forever!”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Tom felt a sharp pain on his neck.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he said out loud. Tom cursed a lot, mainly due to his upbringing, bad neighborhood he lived in and his friends in school.
“Wot da fuck wassat?”
He touched his neck with his left hand, carefully touching what was now a small bump on the side of his neck. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, like an eagle searching for its prey. He saw nothing.
“I don’t see nothing!” he said to himself.
He continued looking around, spinning in place in his lucky shoes, as though he would get hit again if he took another step forward. After 30 seconds of not spotting anything, he took another step forward and felt another sharp pain on his neck.
“Fuck!”
He decided to put both of his hands around his own neck to protect it as he continued his journey to school. Every few steps he took, he felt a sharp pain on the back of his left and right hands.
“Better me hands than me neck, me suppose…” He continued walking forward.
By the time he reached his school, Tom’s hands were swelling like Mickey Mouse gloves, except that they were blue-black instead of white. Fortunately, whatever was attacking him stopped when he entered the school compound.
The school’s two security guards at the entrance, dressed in blue shirts, black slacks, black shoes, red beret, with a whistle chain dangling from their necks; came up to Tom as they saw him walk through the school gates, hands around his neck.
“Oi! You doin’ alright mate?” said one of them loudly.
“Yeah mate, you doin’ alright?” the other chirped in.
“Fuckin’ hell, me was attacked on da way to school!” Tom replied angrily.
“What attacked you, mate?” the first guard inquired.
“Yeah, what was attackin’ you, mate?” the second guard said worriedly.
“Me has no idea what the fuck ‘appened! It was like they was invisible!” said Tom excitedly.
“Should we put the school on red alert?” the first guard said questioningly.
“Me say we go on alert ourselves first, then if there’s something wrong, we’ll inform the school!” responded the second guard.
“Alright kid, go run on to your class, we’ll stick around and see what we can do!” said the first guard to Tom.
Tom suddenly felt a pain in his stomach.
“Aarrgh!!!!!” he screamed as he fell to the concrete ground, writhing in agonizing pain.
“Oh shite! What do we do, mate?” said the first guard to the second guard.
“I’m as clueless as you, mate!” the second guard said to the first guard cluelessly.
Mr. Brown, the school’s mathematics teacher for primary one, two and three students, looked out the window and saw Tom approach the school gates. He saw Tom speaking to the guards for about a minute before he fell down to the ground in agonizing agony. Mr. Brown adjusted his spectacles on his face and went back to marking his papers. He had to finish marking them before his tea break.
Ms. Sally, the school’s discipline teacher for secondary students, looked out the window and saw Tom approach the school gates. She saw Tom speaking to the guards for about a minute before he fell down to the ground in agonizing agony. Ms. Sally scratched her nose and went back to marking her papers. She had to finish marking them before her cigarette break.
Ms. Francis, the school’s cafeteria lady, looked out the window and saw Tom approach the school gates. She saw Tom speaking to the guards for about a minute before he fell down to the ground in agonizing agony. Ms. Francis scratched her nose and went back to cooking the pot of spaghetti. She had to cooking it before her the students’ lunch break.
Mr. Black, the school’s janitor, looked out the window and saw Tom approach the school gates. He saw Tom speaking to the guards for about a minute before he fell down to the ground in agonizing agony. Mr. Black picked up his broom and headed out of the supplies room. He had to finish cleaning the school entrance before the kids came out to play again.
Tom screamed in pain while rolling furiously on the ground. “ARGHHAIHIAHEIHIHTAEGAGHAAGFUCKAHHEAHEOAHEIARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Suddenly, he stopped breathing.
And then.
He.
Died.
R.I.P. Tom.
Writing prompt from Reddit: Craft a short story that breaks every rule on Elmore Leonard’s “10 Rules for Good Writing” list.