My second story. Give me as MUCH CRITICISM possible. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Man, did I hate high school. Bullying, social classes, stupid rules like for girls if you have sex in high school your marked a slut and if you don't your marked a saint. But there was one thing that made me different. From these insolent fools that swarm the halls of this school. "Hey Zack, get up!" Ryan yelled loudly. The person getting yelled at is me, Zack Patterson. I am a junior at Shyer High, what a awesome name for a school. I have black hair, and brown eyes. I wasn't athletic but had a good build. "Ryan, what do you want now?" I said with a bit of fatigue in my voice. "I need my project finished… Now!" Ryan exclaimed, demanding. Ughh I hated Ryan so much. The person I'm talking about is Ryan Thomas our school bully and one of the most popular students at Shyer . Ryan was a short, blonde demon. He was good looking but a total douche. His crew or punks as I would call them, stood around the dark brown, wood table. Looking for a fight. But I couldn't take all of them on, nor could I pick them off one by one since they were all neighbors and went everywhere with each other. "Ryan, no, I'm tired of you and your punks trying to bully everyone you see, you know what I think." I stated fully awake and already angry. "I think your too stupid to do your own work, and to be honest you look like a damn leprechaun." Ryan burst into flames. "Grab him!" Ryan yelled with fury, bleeding out of him like severe wound. I was lifted into the air and carried outside. "Put me down!" I screamed loudly that people would hear, but it wasn't enough. I was dumped in someones trunk.
Update •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• The trunk was stuffy and cramped. It also smelled like Ryan; a dumpster. Luckily I carry a glow stick around, don't ask why. There were seats that folded, giving me a easy way of hearing what was being said in the car. I heard Ryan on the phone with someone and it wasn't English, it was Russian I think. Suddenly the car had stopped and they all got out. "Viktor, take him out, we will be inside" I think the other punk said it. "Okay" Viktor said. The trunk opened and I jumped out towards Viktor, to give him the beating he deserves. "No, no Zack wait" too late, I delivered a punch straight to his gut. "I deserved that, but wait I'm trying to help you" Viktor said, holding his gut tightly. "What? Help me? You stuffed me in that car and you say your trying to help?" I said, raising my eyebrow and voice a bit. "I know and sorry about that but I needed Ryan to bring me to his hideout" Viktor said. "Hideout, what the hell is going on here?" I asked. Viktor, I mean Bryce explained everything. Apparently Bryce was a teenage spy sent from the CIA, and I got caught in crossfire. Now that I knew I had to help him. Bryce put breakaway cuffs on me. But man did they still hurt. I turned around and got ready to enter the brick warehouse. It sure had some better days because the windows, wall, and the door was broken. Cheap criminal I guess. Bryce escorted me in, as I was a prisoner. "What took so long?" Ryan's punk said. "He was fighting, his way out of the cuffs" Bryce lied. He must've been a good liar because they believed him without out thinking. Ryan came over to me, he smelled ghastly. The other punk came over to me also, smelling equally the same as Ryan. We had to endure it since Ryan and the punk walked right into our trap. Bryce let go of my wrist and I sprung into action. The cuffs came off easily and I landed a punch at Ryan's face, making him stagger back. Over at my side Bryce was punching the punk like it was a piece of cake. I continued to punch Ryan, kneeing him a couple of times. About 5 minutes passed and me and Bryce weren't even tired yet. Seems we beat both of them out cold. "Hey Blackjack the personnel has been apprehended and neutralized" Bryce said into his intercom. "So what about me?" I asked. Bryce told me that I either come with him or I die. My choice at that moment would change or end my life from that point on.
Wow super good, watch out with run on sentences make sure you use comas appropriately and ---> ; those things other then that good work! Bump!
Oh and! Don't do comma splices! Those are really bad! (when you put a comma Inbetween two independent clauses)
*Two Months Later* My body sure didn't change one bit but my strength and agility sure did. I was becoming a lot more faster especially since I started Free-running. You could really see the difference in my confidence, attitude, and mentality. "Hey Agent Cross we are starting briefing in 5 minutes." Kelly said. "Sure Agent Sweet I'll be there" I said giving a nice smile. Kelly or Agent Sweet was a petite, blonde but don't let this sexy girl fool you. She is one of the Agency's best operatives with a record of 12 kills (6 of those being assassinations), 3 captures, and 6 rescues. "Oh yeah I forgot Agent Swiss wanted to speak to you" With that she left. Bryce wanted me? Last time I talked to him my family was being told I got accepted into a luxurious boarding school. I walked to Bryce's dorm but I wouldn't call it a dorm since a dorm didn't have two floors. But Bryce's condo/or "dorm" really made the luxury pop out. He had a living room made to look like a Ski cabin fireplace and everything. But the one thing I absolutely loved about his living room was the actual soda machine in the back right corner. I walked through his condo door to a gush of cold air that pushed me back a little. "Bryce" I called shivering. No answer. Something was wrong.
"Bryce!!!" Where was he? "Bryce!!!!" I kept shouting and shouting but no answer. Then I noticed a slient shuffle coming from the second floor of Bryce's condo. I slowly ascended the red spiral stairs. "Bryce?" I called in a low almost silent whisper. The shuffling moved and stopped. A eerily silence filled the upstairs hallway. I walked down the big hallway filled with doors opening each one till I finally came upon the last door a wooden door that looked like it had just been furnished. I opened the door with ease but with some creaking. "Bryce?" I called for the final time. "Zack?" Bryce called back. Whew that was a relief. I walked into the large window-less room only to see Bryce holding a gun to my head. "Bryce why?" I had to disarm him but how. I remembered combat training: if a person is close enough… I turned towards Bryce making the gun poke at the middle of my forehead. "Is this really what you want?" I asked. "Maybe, maybe not" Bryce said moving his gun slightly to the right. Bad move. I grabbed the gun between my palms and raised it in the air then kneed him in the stomach.