Meet Samuel

Every morning, Sam got up at 6am. He combed his hair just-so, he wore a starched white shirt, he wore his tie just-so. He made his own breakfast, washed up his bowl, and left the house before his parents were even awake, looking like he'd never even been up at all; indeed, Samuel and his parents were rarely in contact of any form.

He arrived at school half an hour early; his mother thought he was studying. Samuel was instead stealing as much as he could from any child smaller than him; and if they had brothers and sisters to defend them? Well, he'd just have to get into another fight.

At school, Samuel was just as attentive and studious as his parents believed, however bloody his face might already be. Once outside the premises, however, he went right back to his true self; brawling with any teenager bigger than him was his one hobby.

I knew Sam somewhat - enough to avoid his fists - and I'd once dared to ask him: Why?

"Because my parents don't care about me as their son," he replied, nursing a black eye (he told them he'd tripped). "They care about me as a bragging right."

>~*~<

Hmm...this might sound a little pretentious, which is a shame because I really like Samuel. Just take whatever he says and does with a pinch of salt, please.