Every school has their little weirdos. Some more than others, but us weirdos gotta stick together. Back in the fifth grade my buddy Tim got a lot of shit. Not like the kid dressed weird or anything, but he was just the kid that had a target on his back. We’d be out in the field flying around in space ships or fighting off a mob of samurai. He was the best at playing swords and stuff though.
The kids never messed with me though. Only him for whatever reason. Tim was my boy though. We looked after each other. Well, mostly me looking out for him, but someone had to. Most of the kids couldn’t understand why I was so nice to him.
I’d always say, “Well, I’m nice to you aren’t I?” They’d usually scoff and walk away while we snuck in a middle finger before anyone saw us. It was kinda our thing. Tim was pretty excited when the talent show came around that year. He had been honing his ‘skills’ as he would say.
Tim did everything to be good at making things seem real, because that was the only time he was truly happy. His dad was kind of a dick since he was drunk all the time. He just wanted his boy to, “be a real man that watches sports and shit.” That guy was a real douche.
Anyway, a week before the talent show Tim was excited to tell me about how he figured out how he was going to show everyone his talent. I tried to get a sneak preview so I had an idea of what to expect, but he shook his head with a giant grin on his face. The longest week of my life, but I was itching to see what Tim threw together. The talent show came around with some of the kids doing some wild stuff.
The skill range for those talents were interesting for a bunch of kids. Between the musicians and magicians, some of them seemed like they’ve been doing it since before they were born. One kid was just doing a bunch of backflips off of everything that made the school’s staff chase them around due to safety. It was finally his turn and he came decked out in black and white. He was a hell of a Mime.
Although I’ve never seen one before, I thought he did pretty damn well. Whereas the other kids just laughed. He got pretty far along, but you can tell he started getting discouraged the longer it went on to the point where one of the ‘cool kids’ ended up throwing something at him. Thankfully the teacher snatched him up right then and there, but the damage was done.
All I remember was Tim bursting into tears before running off stage. You’d think he’d stay home for a couple days, but his dad just laid into him about being a pussy and crying in public. That asshole made him come right back to school to let those kids eat him up. Shit broke my heart to see. He didn’t even fight back. Not even once.
I put together a pretty good plan to get Tim’s spirit up knowing my birthday was just around the corner. Thought I’d give him a second chance, and make the class sit and watch. I talked to my mom about it, and we made the invites before passing them out the next day in class. I told Tim about the plan just so he wasn’t blindsided.
He was surprisingly ecstatic talking about how he’s gotten so much better, and how he couldn’t wait to try out his new act. The day of the party everything was going swell minus the fact that Tim didn’t show up. Well, at least I didn’t think he was. The kid showed up fashionably late, suited up and ready to go with his imaginary bag of props.
All the parents were saying how cute it was while the kids did what they could to hold in their laughter. Especially when he put his imaginary back down to pull out an invisible hammer, then pretended to work on barricading every doorway and window in the living room. It was impressive to say the least. Tim called me over to help out, and so I did. Didn’t think anything of it until he handed me that imaginary hammer that had weight to it. Though it was a placebo thing.
At the time I assumed it was an ‘in the moment’ type thing, so I just started hammering away. When all was said and done he walked me to the corner of our living room, made a box around me and motioned to me to stay still. The parents clapped as he took center stage in front of the TV while the kids just sat on the floor in front of him.
He started with not being able to move a water bottle and running into imaginary walls. You know, that cute kid stuff. He stopped mid act to walk back over to me with a smile while slapping his forehead like he forgot something. He then closed my box before pulling out what I assumed was a power drill to make holes in my imaginary box.
Tim walked back up to the front, and tapped that devil child, Jacob on the shoulder for assistance. Jacob got up laughing, but Tim just played it off. Tim took out some imaginary tools before making another box around the kid, then turned around and bowed. Jacob tried to move only to quickly realize that he couldn’t. He started to panic while everyone applauded the Mime as Tim put up a finger to silence the crowd, and that’s when shit hit the fan.
Jacob was starting to mouth that he couldn’t breathe, and Tim gestured like he forgot the kid was in there. Like saying, “oopsy,” but without words. Tim pretended to press some buttons on the side of Jacobs box before stepping off to the side, ending with a bow. Jacob started to get smaller. Not like he was shrinking, but like the box was, and at that point he was full blown panicking.
The parents were looking around at each other nervously, but the kids just laughed until they realized Jacob was serious when he started screaming without a sound. The kids started screaming when they saw Jacobs bones had started popping through his skin one after another while the parents were trying to figure out how to open his invisible prison. Tim took another bow as he looked over at me, and winked with a smile.
Not going to lie, I pissed myself right then and there thinking he thought I was a dick for putting him in this situation. Jacob’s dad started freaking out. He yoked Tim up by his collar yelling at him saying, “get him the fuck out of there!” Tim spoke no words. He just shook his finger in the guy’s face.
Remember, we were in fifth grade at the time. Jacob’s dad could have beaten him senseless, but Tim had a show to put on. It was like being back at school playing pretend swords in the field. Tim was a lone Rōnin that was efficient in the quick draw technique. He never lost a fight, and he wasn’t about to now.
Tim gripped the invisible sheath at his waist, and ripped the imaginary katana horizontally across Jacob’s dad’s chest. Jacob’s dad let go of Tim dropping him to his feet. He took a few steps back with wide eyes while Tim flicked the floating blood off his blade. He placed the imaginary blade back in its sheath as the guy started spewing blood from his wound like an old samurai flick. Tim’s timing was impeccable.
The other parents were too concerned with Jacob himself watching his body get compressed into a pile of bone and viscera covered in a blanket of skin while his father fell to the ground with his chest sliced open. Tim took another bow before walking to the center of the room. He showcased an item in his hand that no one could see before placing it on the floor. The rest of the parents trembled in fear trying to find a way out with their kids, but Tim had already sealed off the exits.
Tim pressed something on the device he placed on the floor, and left out the front door. The kid didn’t even look back. Everyone rushed to the door behind him, but it didn’t even matter. The door could have been open and they still wouldn’t have been able to get out. They were like animals trapped in a cage, and I was still trapped in a box inside that cage.
Everyone started getting pushed into the walls like there were walls closing in from the middle of the room. Some pushed against the invisible walls while others held onto their kids in uncontrollable sobs. I thought we were all fucked, and worst of all it was all my fault. All my parents wanted to do was hold me one last time before we were all smashed some invisible walls, but they couldn’t even do that because I was trapped in a fucking invisible box.
Like the balloons, everyone just popped. The walls were covered in people. Tim had a cut out in the wall the size of the box I was placed in that made me grateful in a sense. I was alive, but all that was left of my parents were their arms that hung in the front of my prison, and their remains that were squeezed through my air holes. I honestly wish he just let me die. Die like everyone else.
When all was said and done, my parents’ blood covered the box showing there was a doorknob on it that I didn’t notice before, or it just wasn’t there beforehand. I couldn’t even tell you to be honest. I just let myself out. Wasn’t sure what else to do other than hold what was left of my parents until my aunt came back from the store. She didn’t even make it through the front door.
Cops came, but it’s not like they could get anything out of the kid who wouldn’t talk. Not like I could have done all that. They chalked it up as a wild animal wandering in, making a meal of everyone and leaving a kid mute due to the traumatic experience. That didn’t explain the writing in blood saying, “Us Weirdos Gotta Stick Together,” on the inside of front door that they chose to ignore.