Chapter 1

Chapter 9

The three o clock bell sounded signifying the end of the school day and Malcolm walked slowly through the corridor and out into the designated area. Best get on with it then, he thought.


He’d seen off his fair share of older boys in the past, but Munch was the biggest challenge yet by far.


Malcolm stood with Evans. “Look at the fat bastard,” said Evans. “I’m surprised he’s not eating a packet of crisps; don’t think I’ve seen him without one before.”


“No, don’t think I have.”


“What you going to do, he’s massive.”


“Yeah, thanks for that, he’s a fat sod though, won’t take long before he’s knackered.”


“Oh right, run around till he exhausted, then move in.”


“Something like that.”


Malcolm stood opposite his opponent, the crowd gathered to form a makeshift ring.


He scanned the eager faces as their murmur filled his ears; he knew what they were all saying.


Munch looked bigger than he remembered he suddenly felt the urge to run, but knew it wouldn’t save him, only delay the inevitable.


Malcolm stared at the large boy, his gaze fixed hard on his beady eyes. He pictured the boy not as a fat fifth year but as a collection of thoughts and feelings, one which he had to penetrate and dismantle.


Munch wore a face wide grin as he relished the thought of pummelling his younger opponent. In contrast, Malcolm’s expression remained one of concentration; he mentally prepared himself for what lie ahead.


Malcolm turned to talk to Evans, but before he had the chance, he felt a blow. Struck by the full weight of the older boy; a sharp tightening around the chest took his breath away. The giant grabbed hold of him and they crashed to the floor. Malcolm struggled to regain breath under the weight of the boy, his ginger hair filled his vision and he could smell crisps.


A cheer erupted from the smaller group of the onlookers and gasps from the larger. Malcolm didn’t want grapple with such a large opponent, so he landed a stinging punch to the side of munch’s fat head, causing him to shift his weight as he winced in pain, this gave Malcolm the space he needed to struggle free.


Munch stood up and rubbed his head, surprised his move hadn’t ended the fight already. Malcolm saw his chance to land a proper blow, he lashed out, his fist caught his opponent square on the jaw. The impact could be heard three rows back and for any normal opponent; the punch would have been enough to end the fight. Munch reeled under the impact, he rubbed his jar and looked at Malcolm as if to say ‘is that all you’ve got?’


Malcolm didn’t have time to worry as Munch flew at him again, his arms flailing in all directions. Malcolm stepped to one side allowing the frustrated boy to fall to the ground with a heavy thump. He saw his opportunity and jumped, landing with both knees in the centre of Munches’ back which knocked the wind from his lungs. Malcolm grabbed hold of Munches thick arms and pulled upwards which forced his face hard into the ground. He struggled to hold Munch in this position, determined not to let go.


“GIVE UP YA FAT FUCKER” He said as he strained to keep control of the boy.


“BOLLOCKS,” said Munch through a mouth full of dirt. He summoned all his might and threw Malcolm from his back.


They both got up, covered in mud and exhausted from the intense exchange. They circled each other, Malcolm noticed the noise for the first time; the crowd frenzied shouts egging both parties on, desperate to see blood.


Munch’s huge frame became a hindrance as the physical excursion took its toll. Malcolm noticed the heavy, laboured breathing of his opponent, and smiled.


He rushed toward the panting boy ramming his head into Munches chest. The momentum pushed the heavy boy back and they fell to the ground, but this time with Malcolm in control. His mind clouded over and the red mist descend, he lost control and saw nothing apart from the look of horror on the face of the boy as the realisation of his predicament dawned on him.


Malcolm sat up and began to pound Munch around the head, each blow landed with a sickening thud, blood erupted from his nose and the crowd fell silent as they witnessed the reality of what they craved.


Malcolm landed three punches before two large hands grabbed him from behind.


“Think he’s had enough Sonny" came a stern voice as the crowd looked on.


Mister Knox had been watching from the dorm window and decided the fight should come to an end before any serious damage could be done.


Munch lay in the dirt with blood flowing from his nose, moaning. His group supporters began to back away, confirming his loss of status. Later he claimed that he hadn’t given up, but to all who were watching; it was obvious he’d lost.


Malcolm took his place as the youngest head boy the school had seen, he fitted the role well, but most importantly had learnt a lesson… no one was unbeatable.