Sociopath Community

There are some indicators that show the main character might have some psychopathic traits, but not enough to call him a psychopath.

The story seems a little unrealistic at the start. Why would kids buy sweets off the main character at ten times the original price when they could simply buy them themselves from the market at a much cheaper price?

If the main character was selling illegal drugs I could understand, but the product he's selling can be bought by anyone at most stores. So, either the people he's selling to in the story are very stupid or they live at school and never actually get to visit the market themselves, which seems very unlikely for a story that is trying to portray realism.

People do actually sell sweets at school, my brother did this for a while. I suppose some kids just don't mind being ripped off. I agree that the drugs idea is better; I'll probably change that accordingly.

Thanks for the feedback.

sociopath

Why do you say that? As far as I know, it either makes no difference (if used interchangeably) or 'psychopath' is more applicable (if going by Hare and Babiak's description).

An update with Thrill Kill's suggestion. Again, not sure what the formatting is all about.

As soon as the bell rang for the start
of break, I saw Jimmy making his way towards me. He grinned as soon
as he saw me looking his way.
“Hey, John!” he called. “Have you
got it, then?”
“Sure, I'll just get my bag out the
locker. Won't be long.”
He followed me to the locker room where
I got my bag out and handed him the bag he wanted, a little plastic
bag that smelled a bit suspicious.
“That would be £20, please and thank
you.”

I stretched my hand out and the crisp
clean note was soon thrust eagerly on to it.

“Thanks, John” he grinned again, as
if I was doing him a favour. The green in that bag couldn't be worth
more than £10. Got to love first-timers.
“Pleasure doing business” I called
after him as he trotted along to whatever lesson it was he had next.
I stared at the note in my hands for a
few seconds before stuffing it in to my bag and making my way to
physics. The money was good, usually at least £50 per day. In all
truth, I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to spend it all.
As I was making my way across the
courtyard to the science block, I heard an unwelcome voice call my
name.
“John! Wait a sec. I have a business
offer that you might be interested in.”
It was Ben Jones, school ruffian. His
'business offers' were never worthy of the name. They usually
involved some sort of violence.
I stopped and let him catch up. “I'm
all ears, Ben”
“How much money do you make in this
business of yours?”
“That's not any of your business. And
even if it was, I wouldn't tell you.”
He was unpleasantly close by now.
Halitosis, what a curse.
“Look here,” he leered, trying to
look as menacing as possible. “I want 50% of each day's earnings.”
“50%?” I asked, mildly perturbed.
“What have you done to deserve this?”
Ben's rotten smile spread wider on his
spotty little face. “You aren't in A&E yet,” as if he was
some kind of movie villain.
The kick in the balls caught him off
guard and off balance, and I used this opportunity to ram his head
into my knee. I felt a crunch and warmth on my trouser. Damn, they'll
have to go in the wash. A final kick in the chest made sure Ben
wouldn't follow me. I hope I didn't crack a rib.
“Fuck you, Ben.”
With that I made my way, at last, to
physics (read: “advanced textbook studies”), leaving his prone
body cowering on the floor.
After what seemed like hours of dust
and monotony, an irate Mr Brown (head of my year) appeared at the
door, staring feverishly around the room until he locked eyes with
me.

“John, come with me.”
I swung my bag on to my shoulder,
ignoring the bemused silence of my classmates and wondering how I
would weasel my way out of this one. We walked to his room in
silence. Once we got there, I noticed his desk and chair were on a
slightly raised platform, designed to intimidate any 'visitors'.
“Well, John. I think you owe an
explanation. That was assault, what you did. The police could easily
get involved and you would deeply rue the consequences.”
“Sir, he was threatening me, I didn't
know what to do.” It all came out in a gush, as if I was holding
back tears.
“You could have told a teacher.
Someone threatens you, you tell
someone. You don't beat them to a pulp.”
With my voice lowered to a remorseful
whisper, “I – sir, it's not that simple.” I hung my head and
stared at my shoes as if I couldn't bear what I had done. Mr Brown
was tapping his pen against the table in irritation.
“Tell me, John, how it isn't that
simple.”
I made especially sure I looked as if I
was at a funeral before raising my head slowly to meet his eyes. It's
because I don't think many teachers would appreciate my business,
sir. I wondered how that would go down.
“He was talking about my mum.”
My mother is terminally ill with breast
cancer. This predicament usually gives me a little leeway for
misdeeds.
It worked. Mr Brown sighed and it was
his turn to gaze at the floor.
“Sir, he said - ” I hesitated as if
what I was about to say hurt me greatly. “He said my mum deserved
to have cancer. He said she deserved to die.” My voice was barely
audible but Mr Brown was clinging on to every word. I managed to
squeeze a lonely tear out the corner of my eye. “I'm sorry, I would
have said, but I wasn't thinking. All I could think of was my mother,
and what he said.”
Mr Brown was in visible turmoil. His
brow was creased and he was avoiding my gaze.
“Well, if that's true... well, I'm
sorry about what happened. I'm not sure what to do.” He paused for
a second, looking me in the eye. “I won't get the police involved,
I'll make sure of that. You can't get away without punishment, but
I'll be lenient given the circumstances. You will be suspended for a
week, starting now. I'll deal with Ben.”
I nodded morosely. “I'm sorry, sir.”
He led me to the door and gave me a
squeeze on the shoulder as I walked out. He caught my eye and gave me
one of those looks that people give to someone they pity. As if
marching to a dirge, I headed off down the corridor. It was beyond me
why suspension was supposed to be a punishment. I enjoyed
not having to go to further pure advanced textbook studies. Fuck me
if I'm weird.