High School Drama **CHAPTER 1 POSTED**

[MICrophone]

What, abandoned the other story I just started so soon, have I?

Yep.

Oh yeah. This is gonna get pretty explicit. A lot of the small individual events are inspired by things I witnessed at my high school (so no, I didn't make up many of the things in here - a.k.a. I'm not that messed up), though most of the major events in the story are completely made up.

High School Drama

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Prologue

There was nearly complete silence as the casket was lowered into the ground. The only sound was the muffled sobs of the deceased's mother and the wind softly humming eerily as it passed through the cemetery.

Marcus Swaine stood completely still as he watched the scene. He was a tough kid; it would have been out of character for him to shed a tear. But inside, his heart felt like a hunk of metal thrown into an ocean, and his mind was nearly exploding from the pain. He could not think straight; he saw the minister's mouth moving but he did not hear the words. What words could do justice to Don Symms? How could anyone say anything that could truly define who his friend was?

He remembered waking up that morning and casually glancing at the paper which his father had left lying on the counter and being startled to see Don's picture on the front cover and the headline, "Sharpton High Schooler Stabbed to Death."

How could he have allowed it all to happen? He knew what Don was getting into, but rather than hold him back, he followed him down that dark, dark road that would bring them all to this point.

His friend was dead. There was nothing that was going to change it.

And inside, Marcus knew that he was to blame.

"…he was always such a sweet boy…and…" Don's mother was interrupted by her own sobbing, "…and he was the best son that my husband and I could have asked for."

Oh yeah? thought Marcus bitterly. What do you know? You were too caught up in your own lives to see what was happening to your own son! If you had, you egotistical ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, he would've been alive now…and I would not be suffering so.

Time passed slowly. Marcus did not notice; he was too busy wallowing in self-pity. But finally, after what might have been an eternity, the mourners slowly began to disperse. A hand tapped Marcus on the shoulder. He turned to see his father, who silently told Marcus that it was time to go. Marcus nodded, then turned to follow his father.

"Marcus!" came a cry.

Marcus turned to see a man with whom he was unfamiliar approaching him. Marcus stood and waited until he arrived, at which point the latter extended his hand and Marcus shook it. "Felix Strong."

"Marcus Swaine, but it appears that you already know this."

"Yes, well, I'm a police investigator, you see. I've been hired to try and find out who - " his voice dropped to a whisper - "what happened to Don. I know that you two were very close, and, well, I'd really appreciate it if we could get together and you could tell me what you know."

"I'm sorry," replied Marcus, "But I won't do that sir."

"Son, it's very important - "

"I understand Mr. Strong, but Don wouldn't have wanted me to. I won't talk sir. I hope you understand."

"Well, Don also didn't want to be killed, did he? But he was. I need your help Marcus."

"I'm sorry," said Marcus again, "but my word is final. Out of respect for Don, I ain't talking."

Felix nodded. "Well," he said, "if you change your mind, will you give me a call?" Felix held out a business card, which Marcus took.

"Take care of yourself, Marcus," said Felix, who then turned and walked away. Marcus watched him go, then said quietly to himself, "I'm sorry Don," before running to catch up to his father.

---

Chapter 1

There was a time when I was innocent. Shy. And weak, scared of everything and everybody. The typical high school outcast.

I had been home schooled through eighth grade. I didn't make too many friends because of this, because ultimately school is the place where you really meet people. I didn't mind though. I was content to do my own thing.

Then my mother committed suicide.

There was no warning. She showed no signs of depression or nothing like that. I simply woke up that morning to the sound of sirens blaring outside my window. I silently watched as she was carried into the ambulance on a stretcher, then sat in silence at the kitchen table while my father sobbed continually for hours.

After that, I couldn't be home schooled anymore, because my mother was dead and my father was working.

So despite my desperate pleas, my father registered me for public school for ninth grade.

I remember that first day well. Sharpton High School had upwards of 1,000 students, with students coming from within a twenty-mile radius. Sharpton's in the country, you see, and there aren't too many schools in the region, so pretty much everybody goes to Sharpton High.

Anyway, they crowded all of us into the school auditorium that first day so that the principal could give us all the typical lecture about doing our best academic work and following all the rules. Nobody paid attention; everyone was either quietly chatting or texting on their cell phones. I didn't have friends to talk to or a cell phone, so I just sat there pretending not to exist.

I failed.

There were a group of boys sitting behind me who were chatting away incessantly. They were primarily recounting their adventures of the summer, maybe hoping that a girl might overhear them and be impressed enough to talk to them or something along those lines. Eventually, their conversation turned to other things.

"God damn it," said one of them. "You know how much I hate these ♥♥♥♥ speeches?"

"Yeah, we know Tommy," said a second. "You ♥♥♥♥♥ about it every single god damn year."

"So what the ♥♥♥♥ do you care if I ♥♥♥♥♥ about it now? You ought to be used to it by now."

"Yeah, well, it's ♥♥♥♥ annoying, so knock it off!"

There was momentarily silence.

"Well," said a third, "This may be tedious as hell, but let's face it, it's nice to look at her tits."

I was appalled by the general lack of respect for, well, anything in this entire conversation, but so stunned was I by what I had just overheard that I made the foolish mistake of turning around.

"Oh, looky here!" said the third one, smiling slightly. "You got a problem kid?"

"What?" I said, even more stunned that I was now being directly addressed.

"I asked you if you had a problem," the third one replied. I looked him over. He was casually dressed, in blue jeans and a sweater, and was undeniably among the more handsome boys in the school.

"Well, uh…"

"Do you disagree?"

"Disagree about what?"

"Man, somebody's a little slow," he said, getting a small chuckle out of his two companions. "Do you disagree that the principal has nice tits?"

I turned around to look at the principal so I could accurately answer the question. "Uh, no, I…I guess I don't."

He simply stared at me for a few seconds, the little half-smile on his face never wavering. "What's your name kid?"

"Uh, Marcus," I stammered. "Marcus Swaine."

"I'm Don," he replied. He then indicated the students sitting adjacent to him on both sides. "This here is Tommy and this is Chad."

"Nice to meet you all," I said as unsuspiciously as I could. I was afraid to not be nice to them, even though inside I wanted to be as far away from them as possible.

At that moment the principal concluded the speech and everybody stood up to file out of the auditorium. "Well, see you around Marcus," said Don.

"Yeah, see ya," I said, hurriedly walking away.

---

"Something fishy is going on here."

"Yes, something fishy is generally going on when a high school kid is stabbed to death Felix."

"Thanks for the sarcasm," replied Felix Strong, "but I meant that something beyond the painfully obvious is fishy."

"I'm not interested in your speculations," replied Felix's boss. "I want results!"

"Well, listen," said Felix. "This kid Marcus."

"Yeah?"

"He was one of Don's closest friend. He told me that wasn't gonna talk to me. Said it was out of respect for Don."

"So?"

"So it means that either Marcus has got something to hide or that Don was involved in something he shouldn't have been. Probably drugs. Or maybe some trouble with a gang or something like that."

"That sounds more like results."

"Thanks for your encouragement," replied Felix dryly. "Look, can you look into any drug shipments that might have been intended for the kids at the school?"

"I can put somebody on that. What are you gonna do?

"I'm gonna go talk to the principal. See if she knows about any involvement he may have had with any gangs or drugs."

---

Marcus lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. It was so empty, so barren. So was his life, now that Don was gone. Could he ever forgive himself? Would Don have forgiven him had he known what was really going on?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in."

His father opened the door. "How you holding up?"

Marcus didn't respond. He merely kept staring at the ceiling. His father sighed, then shut the door and quietly walked to his son's bed. He sat down next to his son and joined his son in silence for a few minutes. After receiving no reaction, he stood up again. "Can I get you anything? Something to eat?"

"No thanks," Marcus replied without taking his eyes off of the ceiling.

"All right," replied his father, who then walked towards the door. He stopped as he reached it, looked back at his son, then exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

---

Chapter 2

Coming soon in theory.

[MessengerOfDreams]

Really big O_O

And 8/10

[Ridder]

Hope you don't mind, I screwed up your story.

High School

---

Prologue

There was nearly complete silence as the casket was lowered into the ground. The only sound was the muffled sobs of the deceased's mother and the wind softly humming eerily as it passed through the cemetery.

Marcus Swaine stood completely still as he watched the scene. He was a tough kid; it would have been out of character for him to shed a tear. But inside, his heart felt like a hunk of metal thrown into an ocean, and his mind was nearly exploding from the pain. He could not think straight; he saw the minister's mouth moving but he did not hear the words. What words could do justice to Don Symms? How could anyone say anything that could truly define who his friend was? Besides saying he was a total deadbeat douchebag?

He remembered waking up that morning and casually glancing at the paper which his father had left lying on the counter and being startled to see Don's picture on the front cover and the headline, "Sharpton High Schooler raepd Stabbed to Death."

How could he have allowed it all to happen? He knew what Don was getting into, but rather than hold him back, he followed him down that dark, dark road that would bring them all to this point.

His friend was anally raped dead. There was nothing that was going to change it.

And inside, Marcus knew that he was to blame.

"…he was always such a sweet boy…and…" Don's mother was interrupted by her own sobbing, "…and he was the best son that my husband and I could have asked for." Don's mother then turned her head towards Marcus and started to cry out in an angry tone,"But then that A-hole over there had to become friends with my boy.....and.....and........NOW. HE'S DEAD. YOU SoB! WHY!? WHY!?" Don's mom rushed over to kill Marcus, but being well oriented in these kinds of situations, Marcus rose in the air. As he did so, time seemed to slowdown, and right before the crazed mom could strike him, Marcus kicked her in the face, in which she flew backwards and into the casket of her dead son.

Marcus dropped to the ground and walked over to see if she was dead, but as he came close, the mother rose up and screeched. Marcus, frightened, ran back, took the womans husband by the arms, and threw him like a giant man-riken. Quick with the reflexes, the mum barely dodged by lowering her back by a full 91 degrees, of course, she had to take a moment to fix her back, stumbling about like a blind man at an airport, until finally tripping over her husband. In a final act of desperation, Marcus rose to the air once again only to fly down at extreme speeds at Don's mother. The last words the mother ever said was as follows "WATASHIA SHINEN. SHINENZOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" and, with his fist pulled back, Marcus shouted- "MARCUS PWAAAAAAAAAAAAAANCHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" The spirit of Don Symms came back to life to say "MARCUS FENIX!!!! SWAINE!!!!!" and in a glowing ball of light, the Marcus and Don's mom vanished. Taking the whole galaxy with them.


Time passed slowly. Marcus did not notice; he was too busy wallowing in self-pity. But finally, after what might have been an eternity, the galaxy eventually came back together, over the deadness of the old one. Llife, as it would seem, even though it was to go on within Marcus Swaine, went on without his story.

"Marcus!" came a cry.

Marcus turned to see a man with whom he was unfamiliar approaching him. Marcus stood and waited until he arrived, at which point the latter extended his hand and Marcus shook it. "Phoenix Wright."

"Marcus Swaine, but it appears that you already know this."

"Yes, well, I'm a defense attorney, which means I could help you sue whoever destroyed your life, you see. I've been given the opportunity to make a lot of cash. " his voice dropped to a whisper - "I also deal in illegal cow turds, just say when you want a load of cow turds on your hands."

"I'm sorry," replied Marcus, "But I won't do that sir."

"Son, it's very important - "

"I understand Mr. Strong-"
"It's Mr. Wright, dammit." Phoenix interrupted.
"-Mr. Wright, but Don wouldn't have wanted me to. I won't ever request a load of......feces, be laid upon my hands . I hope you understand."

"Well, Don also didn't want to be killed, did he? But he was. I need your help Marcus."

"I'm sorry," said Marcus again, "but my word is final. Out of respect for Don, I ain't dirtying my hands."

Phoenix nodded. "Well," he said, "if you change your mind, will you give me a call?" Felix held out a business card, which Marcus took.

"Take care of yourself, Marcus," said Phoenix, who then turned and walked away. Marcus watched him go, then said quietly to himself, "I'm sorry Don," before running to catch up to his destiny.

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Chapter 1

HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR HABLAR

[MICrophone]

Riddah's is better than mine. I encourage you to continue that as I continue writing the real story.

Anyway, I will hopefully get the next chapter out over the next few days.

[MessengerOfDreams]

Hoi, Riddah, how come you never hijack my story? O_o

[TheMMMification]

Ridder, that was hilarious. I hope you do the same for chapter 1 (Although it may not be as good.)