Edit: I don't like the second part of this story so I've decided to delete it and add it as another chapter.

AN: This is Tom's story. By the way he and Alex are thirteen in this fic.

Disclaimer: It was my birthday two days ago but not even my mom could get those rights away from Anthony Horowitz :(

If only I had listened to my instincts, I wouldn't be in this abysmal position. If only…

My mind went back to last week, when I was still an innocent child. When I'd been toying with the idea of joining the school's most popular guys. The most popular ones, and also the most feared ones. At my school, the rulers were the bad guys, the ones who carried knives and knew what it was to be in the juvenile delinquent category. Kids who'd grown up around violence and learned that violence was the right and best way. I, myself didn't believe this, but I envied them. They were scared of nothing and no one. I hated that I wanted to be like them, but I did.

I approached their leader, Jake. He was seventeen and had a reputation for being suspended twelve times. The principal would have kicked him out but everyone knew that Jake had a tendency to get violent when he was criticized or excluded from everyone. Our Grade 11 French teacher had scars to prove this. He spread fear further than the school walls and made his own rules. Jake told me that I would have to pass a test to join the gang. He said that he and the others would have to think of a test first. I would be informed of the test when they had chosen it, and would have 24 hours to complete it. If I managed to complete the test they set me, I would be in the gang. However I would still need to prove myself to make sure that I could defend myself. If I did not complete the test, I would probably be an outcast. I would be excluded from the gang, of course but the rest of the school would either think me brave for daring to approach the gang, or they would ridicule me and I would only be able to escape the humiliation if I moved very far away. I was nervous, but there was no going back now or I would be used as a punching bag and would probably be miserable for the rest of the year. I went home feeling just a little hopeful for the first time in a long time. However, I still felt uneasy at the thought of completing the task I was set.

The next morning I was having a panic attack. I had been given my task. I had to break into the school and vandalize it. I was told that the night-guard would fall asleep by eleven o' clock. I would not be given any help but would be supplied with materials. Jake gave me a few cans of spray paint and a set of keys along with some advice. He told me to dress in black and to do the job as quickly as possible. I went home and set an alarm for a quarter to eleven but I doubted that I would be able to sleep. When my watch beeped I got out of bed and dressed in the clothes that I'd picked out earlier. I put my cell phone in my pocket and grabbed a back pack for the spray paint. The keys went in my other pocket and I, on an impulse put that horrible knife, the one that would soon become a murder weapon, in too.

I walked to the school. As I had been told, the night guard was fast asleep and snoring. I convinced myself that everything would be okay. I carried out my task quickly, but just as I was about to leave, I heard the night guard. I found out later that he had woken up and seen me on the school's new security cameras, the ones that none of the students had been told about. I panicked and pulled out the knife. I didn't even realize what I had done until blood started pouring out of him. The second I understood what I had done to him I ran. I didn't think but did it automatically. At the time I didn't know that the next morning the police would show up at my house and put me in handcuffs. I didn't know that my parents would soon be ashamed to call me their son. I didn't know anything at all.

By nine the next morning I was in a home for juvenile delinquents. My parents had been told that I had broken into school and killed a man. My mother stared at me like she couldn't believe it and my father started screaming about my many failures and about how I had disgraced him and my mother. I was almost glad when he stopped and I was taken away, but a split second later I realized the seriousness of my actions and started imagining what would happen to me. I was incredibly worried and wanted my mom. Even my father with his long list of failures would be welcome compared to these policemen. My thoughts suddenly turned to the man I had killed. Had he had a family? Loved ones? People who depended on him? Guilt washed through me and I felt like I was about to cry. I wanted to go back in time and stop myself from doing such stupid things, but I couldn't. I was stuck with my guilt and there was nothing I could do to ease it. My lawyer met with me and told me I would probably serve five to ten years, and that was if the judge was feeling sympathetic towards me. I didn't blame the judge for hating me, nor did I blame my lawyer for not trying very hard to cut the sentence down. I deserved everything that came to me for killing an innocent human being, for wanting to be a bad guy without thinking of the consequences. I had asked about the guard, whose name had been Stan Smith. He had a three-year-old daughter named Natalie. She and her mother were now or their own because of my idiocy. I hated myself and would have given anything to turn back the clock, but I couldn't. I couldn't make any difference to what I had done and I deserved to be despised and to have people disgusted with me. If only I hadn't done it.

I had managed to ruin three lives with one mistake. I had been a complete idiot who should be locked up, and I was. I wish that I could have done it differently. I would love to make it different but I can't. If only I had made a different choice and listened to my instincts. If only…