But A Joke Is Funny, Right?

Luke stared dumbfounded at the boys. The blood from Luke’s forehead cut had made a small stream down his face, and was dripping of his chin now, making a small puddle of blood on the floor. If the green rag wasn’t almost choking Luke, rubbing the corners of his mouth dry, Luke would have screamed, and started bawling on the floor. But Luke was better than that. He wasn’t going to stoop to these hostile jerks’ level. Luke tried his best to wriggle his hands free of the twine that bound his wrists together. Luke tried to look tough, but could feel himself getting redder in the face. They had won. Again. For what could’ve been the billionth time in Luke’s small, twelve year life. Luke just stared, unable to believe- no he could believe. They were idiots. Stupid, laughing, idiots. Jacob was holding a ski mask in his hand, and Luke figured he was the attacker-Andy and Dave just tagged along for the ride.
At that moment Mr. Samint walked into the room,
“Hello…?” He said, a dazed expression on his face. It looked to Luke that he had just woken up from a nap, probably to the sound of Luke’s head banging on the floor.
“Luke…,” Mr. Samint stepped cautiously over the puddle of blood and came over to untie Luke
“What in the world…” Mr. Samint continued, “What happened here..?” Mr. Samint’s voice was trailing off after every sentence and Luke relaxed as the cloth that bound his mouth came off. Mr. Samint looked from Luke over to the three menacing boys.
“I-I- You- Boys,” Mr. Samint sighed, “Just tell me the story and the real story. I’ll hear your side first, boys, while Luke gets cleaned up. Luke, meet me in my office when you’re done,” Mr. Samint gestured for Luke to leave the room. He left, his head heavy with shame.
Luke exited the bathroom and walked down the hall. The cut on his head stung from the numerous globs of soap he had been forced to apply. He had a fat bandage on his forehead that made him look like some pre-dead boxer. He turned a corner and came upon Mr. Samint’s office. Luke prepared to knock on the door when he heard a loud explosion followed by a scream from down the hall. Luke peaked out into the corridor. Ms. LeBrone, the orphanage’s maid, was running down the hall frantically screaming and waving her arms about.
“Robber! There’s a robber! Call the cops! Police! Police!”
She passed Luke, not noticing him, too distracted in her chant.
The door behind Luke opened and Mr. Samint rushed out.
“What in the name is gong on..!?!” He screamed, running out and grabbing Ms. LeBone by the shoulders. He spun her around so he could face her.
“Natalya,” Mr. Samint started carefully, calling Ms. LeBone by her first name, “I want you to calmly,” Ms. LeBone interrupted Mr. Samint who shushed her quickly, “ calmly tell me what is wrong,” He finished. Ms. LeBone started to speak, her breathing heavy and panicked.
“The man... I… was cleaning... He just... Came in… Ripped apart…,” Ms. LeBone pointed down the hall to an open door. Mr. Samint released her as she hurried down the hall. Mr. Samint strode down the hall, Luke in fast pursuit.