Something hideous, covered in sequins and poorly hand embroidered flowers clattered its way merrily up the side walk. Attached, well,<span style="font-style: italic">bolted and welded</span>to this monster of cloth, canvas and eye-achingly vibrant colours was a pair of wheels and a black, plastic handle. Attached to these was a boy.<br/><br/>This wasn't a particularly unusual sight amongst the academy grounds and students milling around it, all involved in the start of the year shenanigans. The younger ones were running around and screaming, beating each other up with their heavy-- almost hiking ready-- backpacks. The older ones walked through them, somehow never getting hit, like the kids had bat sonar telling them to avoid the vast lumbering shapes of huge guys who could beat them up while asleep.<br/><br/>No, only when you really looked squintingly close could you realise there was something up with this picture. First being that there was a mini-skirt somewhere in the equation on this small lad, the next being that despite possessing wheels, the suitcase was walking.<br/><br/>Donald Harris, brand spanking new student and fashion guru extraordinaire, gave the sticking wheel a kicking in as the forward momentum propelled one corner an inch from the floor.<br/><br/>"Roll you unwieldy behemoth!" he growled. One small audience and a few snickers later, Donnie hunkered down next to the thing, a deep scowl carved into his round features. He leant in close enough he could've counted the stitches. Every curse in every language he knew that could possibly spring to mind lined up on the back of his tongue as he inspected the bloody thing.<br/><br/>Half a mile.<br/><br/>He'd hiked half a mile with a back-breaking-pack, three plastic chain store bags tied to his belt and The Incredible Walking Suitcase of Doom and he'd had enough! This was the last time he pissed off his ride in-- no, it wasn't his fault Craig, his own flesh and blood, was a pig-headed twat who preferred to take his dyke girlfriend for a fried breakfast rather than giving his poor over-encumbered brother a small ride down to school<span style="font-style: italic">on his first day</span>...<br/><br/>Very funny!<br/><br/>His fingers worked their way into his hoodie pocket, groping through the reams of junk that had found themselves a home there over the years.<br/><br/>"Nice skirt sweetheart!" someone jeered.<br/><br/>"Go fuck yourself!" Donnie replied cheerily, jamming a pin into the edge of the the wheel, not glancing back for rain nor shine nor man alike. The kids here seemed alright really! It was half a shock that he hadn't been given a hard time much sooner-- bending down was pushing the old buttons as it was. Nice bunch, friendly bunch.<br/><br/>If not disturbingly rich---<br/><br/>---there was a clatter and everything from shampoo to books spilt out across the asphalt path, leaving a sorry, torn, deflated piece of plastic tied to his side.<br/><br/>Donnie could only sigh in these situations....