I’m shaken and I’ve seen another side of you today, Tommy Brown! Your bedroom is a complete mess and I have no idea how you can live like it. It’s a large room with a double bed and a small three seater couch against the rear wall. Discarded clothes and litter scattered on the floor. Dirty cups and bowls of half eaten cereal laying around. You’re a big lad for sixteen, sitting here jabbing at the buttons on your Playstation controller with those huge thumbs. You are actually larger than most at our school, including some of the teachers. Stone Temple Pilots are blasting from the stereo and I’m having trouble hearing you.

You seem to be really taken by this new warfare game, talking me through your strategy. Your red grazed knuckles look raw as you grab handfuls of popcorn and stuff it in your mouth. My mum wouldn’t allow me to have my room in this state. She docked my pocket money years ago until I got my room tidy. I’ve kept it clean ever since.

I first met you at school when I moved to the area three years ago. I knew you weren’t that sociable and I suppose neither was I. We just drifted together by default.  Your house is bigger and newer than ours. You constantly remind me we are at opposite ends of the financial divide. You have both parents and I only have mum. Dad left us when I was five and mum works two jobs to support me and my younger sister. I’d like it if we had a house here. There’s a great view from here across the green. Our house is in the rough end of town and looks out at the huge grey cranes towering above the docks.

I’m bored with watching you play this new game now. I stand up and look out of the window to see if the two boys are still there.

“What ya doin’ Mike? It’s just gettin’ good. I just about smashed a whole platoon.” you say, looking round, putting the controller down. You join me, looking out of the window.

“Nothing really. I was just thinking about the other boy from earlier” I say, watching the boys play on the slide.

“He’s a bully and you know it. He was pushin’ those poor kids about. Spoilin’ their fun. Look at them now playin’ on the swings,” you say, pointing to the boys.

“I don’t think he was actually bullying them though,” I say.

“Come on! He was. I couldn’t stand here and let him push those poor kids about, could I?” you say gently rubbing your knuckles.

The door opens and Kath, your new girlfriend, pops her head in and enters with a big smile. You only met her at the spring fair last weekend. You’ve been telling everyone about her all week. Dark hair, dark brown eyes, trim figure, well dressed. She smells gorgeous, which is refreshingly welcome. I’d rate her as a stunning all-round ten and you’re definitely punching well above your weight. She must have been here before, because she doesn’t seem phased by the state of the place, or the stale odour.

“Oh, hi Kath. This is Mike,” you say, grabbing her, and engaging in a sloppy kiss.

“Hi, Mike,” says Kath, readjusting herself from the sudden embrace.

You and Kath sit on the small couch and continue your heavy petting. I awkwardly perch at the other end, cringing at all the love.

“We just stopped a bully from messin’ with some kids out there,” you say, coming up for air and pointing towards the window. “Out there on the green.”

“Good. I don’t like bullies at all,” says Kath, who seems more interested in kissing, than talking.

I’m feeling like a gooseberry now and I’m definitely ready to leave. My mum has offered to take me to get some new clothes this afternoon.

“I’ve seen him there before. He’s too big for those play things anyway,” you say. “He won’t be botherin’ them again. I gave him a good seein’ to. He’ll be outa action for a while. Trust me.”

You dive in for another prolonged kiss. Kath seems more than willing and I’m getting ready to leave you to it. I don’t want to cramp anyone’s style. I know if I had a girlfriend around mine, I’d want to be alone with her. I haven’t had the pleasure though. I’ve never had a girlfriend, except Jilly at playschool when I was four. I don’t think that counts though and I didn’t kiss her. We just used to hold hands sometimes.

“You shoulda seen it, Kath. One smack and he went straight down,” you say, looking at your knuckles again. “It was awesome, wasn’t it Mike?”

“I didn’t hang about. I came back indoors because I didn’t want to get involved,” I say.

“Yeah, you actually abandoned me. Like a chicken. Came runnin’ indoors. Some mate!”

I look at you and look away, biting my tongue. Trying not to seem too disinterested. You have a quick temper and I only learned that today.

“Tommy! Is that you tapping on the pipes? says Tommy’s mum as she flings the door wide open and storms into the room. “Turn that awful music off NOW. I can’t hear myself think.”

You reluctantly get up, and turn the music off.

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

“Where is that tapping coming from?” says Tommy’s mum. I follow her as she goes into the landing, listening for the sound. She puts her ear against the airing cupboard door before opening it. A bound and gagged young boy lies curled up on the floor. His hands and feet are tied with a sheet and he’s been gagged with a tea towel.

“Oh crikey!” I say. My heart skips a beat and I gasp, “It looks like the boy from the play area, Mrs Brown. I didn’t know he’d brought him in here. I came indoors when Tommy hit him. I didn’t like what was happening. I don’t like violence.”

Tommy’s mum’s face tightens as she carefully unties the gag from the boy’s mouth and helps him sit up. His left eye is badly swollen and he has a bloody nose. She reaches for a white flannel and gently dabs his grazed face. Tear tracks etched in dried blood cover his face. Huddled silently in a fetal position, he flinches at every sound and movement.

“Tommy! Get yourself in here. You have some explaining to do here young man.” shouts your mum.

You take your time to casually come out of your room onto the landing. You are still intertwined with your arm around Kath.

“Alfie!” screams Kath, pushing you away. “What has happened to you? What are you doing here? Can someone please tell me what is going on here?”

Kath kneels down beside Alfie and frantically helps Tommy’s mum remove the knots from the sheets. They gently comfort and soothe him. “What the hell have you done to my little brother, Tommy?” says Kath. YOU are a damn bully!

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Richard is an IT developer working for a large Norwich based insurance company and has been writing off and on for around ten years. More recently, he’s been honing his craft daily so he can finish three ongoing novel projects. He has written eight short stories on differing themes. His novel projects are a dystopian thriller, a crime thriller and a 19th century novel.

Photo by Morgan Basham on Unsplash