The Schoolboy Martyr

This story was written in answer to the Ragtag Daily Prompt : Martyr

Martyr means: A person who is killed because of their religious or other beliefs. To make suffer for ones actions and beliefs.

I also added the Word of the Day challenge word: Schmutzwortsuche which means to look up rude words in the dictionary – I kid you not!

Here’s what I came up with …

The Schoolboy Martyr

The phone ringing at 1 AM is never a good thing. Janice answered it without lifting her head from her pillow. “Hello? … Yeah, I’m his mother … HE DID WHAT? … alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Janice dressed and shot out of her house like an enraged bull. She jumped in her old Saab and drove through the city; breaking several speed limits in the process. Her destination was a petrol station on the outskirts of the city. At this time of night, the forecourt looked like an amusement park with all its lights blazing against the dark thundery skies.

Janice drove in and parked behind a police car. She observed an officer walking along a line of youths she didn’t recognise and her sullen-looking son Liam. She stepped out of her car and found herself with an Officer waiting to talk to her.

“Identification and driving license please, Madam,” he requested.

“Good evening, officer. I’m Janice Bowers; that’s my son Liam over there.” Janice gave her details and license from her purse.

“Thank you, madam. I’m afraid we caught your son in the front seat of the Rover over there. He and the seven others there were crammed in and wearing no seatbelts. They were joy-riding well over the speed limit and making increasingly reckless turns and manoeuvres. Fortunately, nobody was hurt or killed and no damage done. They stopped in here for petrol as we pulled in to intercept them.

“Bloody hell! I’m sorry.” Janice felt embarrassed for her son.

“No problem, do you recognise the car?”

“Never seen it or these other boys and girls before.”

“Okay.” The officer made some notes in his police book.

 “There’s no need to punish my son. I’ll kill him for you.” Janice gave the boy a murderous glare.

“I’d rather you didn’t go to that extreme. I have enough paperwork to do already.” The officer returned her paperwork with a grin. “He does need a talking to though for sure.”

 “His ears will be ringing for a month – trust me.” Janice took a calming breath. “Will he be charged?”

“He wasn’t driving so he’ll be getting an official warning when he attends the station in the morning.”  The officer pointed to Liam. “Come here, boy. You will go straight home with your mother and she will bring you to see me tomorrow. Failure to cooperate will see you arrested on breach of bail understood.”

“Yes, sir.” Liam slouched and stared dejectedly at his trainers.

“You may go.” The officer returned to his partner and the other kids.

“Get in the bloody car – NOW!” Janice threw open a door and almost hurled her son inside.

“Alright, I screwed up. Don’t get all psychotic with me.” Liam mumbled.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, boy!” Janice slammed the door and got in the behind the wheel. “Who’s that lot?” she questioned as she drove out of the petrol station.

“Markus is in my class the others are from around his estate.” Liam had picked a spot in the glass of his window and sat staring at it.

“Why the hell were you in a car with people you don’t know? And with no qualified driver huh? – you stink of smoke too!”  

“I didn’t smoke hon—”

“You bloody better hadn’t. I can’t believe you did this, Liam. You’re twelve years old and should never be in cars like that! The police might only be warning you. I’m punishing you severely. Your PlayStation is has gone until Christmas. Your phone …”

“Christmas, that’s five months!” Liam yelled.

 “Make it Easter then.” Janice braked and directed her car around a left turn and accelerated again.

“Easter! Why make me a martyr, huh? All I did was go along for the bloody ride. I didn’t steal the car or smoke or do anything!” Liam’s face reddened with regret.

“You were in the bleeding car, Liam. You were taking part in joyriding within a car carrying too many kids. You could have been killed or killed other people. I am not making you a martyr; I am helping you learn. Its time for changes. There will be no more social media. There will be no more games or pointless schmutzwortsuche. You—”

“Schmutzwortsuche! What the hell does that mean?”

“If you looked up useful words instead of rude ones in the dictionary you might know …” Janice gave him a filthy look as she negotiated a roundabout. “Yeah, I know what you do in your room. I’m not dumb, boy.”

“For flip sake, mum! I made one mistake and now you’re going off like Adolf fricken —”

“Don’t say that name! You didn’t make a mistake. You got into a car with kids and raced about who-knows-where for goodness-knows-how-long, like reckless little pillocks. As a result, your friends FB, Twit-whatever and Insta-grandma is it?

Liam sighed and hid a grin. “Instagram, mum.”

“Whatever, those social media sites are going to miss you for a long while. Oh, and you better hope marigold gloves are fashionable because there’s going to be a lot of chores for you.” Janice parked outside her house and got out.

“That’s not fair!”

“Get your arse indoor and get to bed!” Janice propelled him up the garden path. She unlocked the house and ushered him inside with a desire to belt him one.

“But, Mum!”

The front door slammed shut. With Janice that mad, I’m not brave enough to go inside and see what happens next.

The End

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Thanks for reading my friends. As always there are more stories to be enjoyed (I hope) in the Short Stories and Short Stories 2 tabs.

Have a great day!