Im a normal, 15 year old.
A while ago, I was also a normal 15 year old. Nice parents, nice upbringing, little reclusive on the socialism side but I made my way around.
A while ago, I got expelled.
I attacked the man who made my life a living hell for a year. Did I mention he made my life a living hell for an entire year?
Well, it doesn matter now.
He passed out before the raging sea that was my anger calmed its ongoing torrents.
How did I win? Had I been training in martial arts for years? Found a magic wand? Well, no would be a fitting answer.
I had won with cowardice and a slight advantage. I only needed one snappy look at his gaughing face to smash a brass knuckle into his face. The impact hurt my knuckles yet the adrenaline of the moment washed over the pain. I swiftly pulled the silver knife from my back pocket and moved it from left to right. The awkward tug as it travelled in that one simple motion was unnoticed as my brass knuckle met his face in a touching reunion for the around 13th time.
My brass knuckle, now washed red was all I could see before I felt my arms being pulled back by two blue clothed men. The surroundings finally lost their hazy mirage and I could see every twitching muscle in the crowd of wary students.
He had passed out long before I had clocked in.
I didn even have a plan. Just pure anger and momentum guiding me. I made sure to knock his tooth out first. He had a silly golden tooth. I could see it. It was all I could see in fact from my position on the floor and his by the wall as he laughed and mocked me alongside his gang. This occurred merely a few days ago.
And now his golden tooth was all I could see within the bloody mess on the floor.
Funnily enough, we were by a wall.
All I could remember was the greasy texture and the pulling sensation as I lifted him by the hair and clocked him with another brass knuckle impact.
So where am I now?
In some cell? Already on the Electric Chair? Back for Round two?
Im by the side of a road. The cars ignore the blatantly obvious criminal in front of them as the drivers keep their sunken eyes loosely locked on the traffic colours. I sat on the bench without emotion. Any Emotion now would be pointless.
If I hadn ran after a sucker punch maybe I wouldn be sitting here as sullenly.
I did think of a new life. Making a fancy resume, getting some formal attire.
Stealing on top of assault doesn sound terrible?
But now Im stuck.
I can go anywhere wearing this attire.
I looked down at my orange tracksuit and the numerous numbers that I had never cared to remember.
Yeah. I can go anywhere wearing this attire.
I heard the faint sound of sirens around the block, no flashing lights yet.
It was quite the irony that the suns luminous rays now seemed so limpid and shrewd. Perhaps an evening rain would fit the situation better?
The almighty sun tediously burned my back, its gaze leaving a faint sensation even after I moved to the other side of the bench.
I could only sit with fingers crossed. The sirens had gotten less faint and more direct. Glimpses of blue and red could be seen from around the corner. The glaring sun made many passersby turn heads yet it was odd that they didn look at the man by the bench in a prisoner outfit instead.
One particular man even stood in front of me, to catch a solid glance at this potential police chase. His tiptoeing shadow danced on the sunshone floor as he squinted his eyes.
I want to live differently.
An odd thing to come from a person who shipwrecked his own life yet every human should probably be unable to contain this peeking thought.
As I said, I am-, was a normal person.
Apart from the bullying I was a normal person.
An only child, with loving parents.
Till HighSchool I remained within a small friend group, A small friend group that dispersed upon my unplanned situation yet I couldn blame them.
It was raining. And there were clouds. And with the clouds came shadows.
I can remember more than a vague impression.
I sat on the bench looking at the distant clouds. The incoming rain. The world in front of me.
A Boy around half my size came forward. Offering a napkin for my dried tears. I looked away in shame. The sogged part of my collared shirt was still revealed.
”A-are you okay? ”
I don know why. But I was angry. Not at him, but at my surroundings. And it just so happened that he was surrounded that day.
”What does it look like? ”
”Is someth- ”
”Fuck off. ”
”Are you s-sure? ”
”Just… go. ”
And another wave of shame washed down my system merely a slow minute after.
Why had I pushed away my only source of light? My only friend? I had so many chances. So many failures. And I think that is why.
I wanted and still want to live differently.
It was then I noticed.
A shaking lorry skidding down the road.
Quite fast, definitely over a speed limit or two.
It was then I saw a blank face washed with red.
And then I saw a wheelchair ahead of me. Slowly wheeling down the road. Right in time for a straight collision.
I stood there.
My eyes looked mundanely.
Everything in life needs a push. Even to work up I enjoyed slowly lifting a finger before another. Fingers formed hands and hands connected wrists. And then this strenuous cycle continued before my legs found themselves on a hard wooden floor.
I stood there.
An act of god, a force of the unknown. I am unbeknownst of what.
All I know is that I was suddenly charging down the road. My form was awful and my hands moved out of sync. I already felt a stitch emerging right away.
I had a chance.
A chance to stop.
On the 3rd or so step, the unknown momentum died down.
I could keep going, or stand there.
I lived differently.
I wanted to call out but all that I could produce was a painful gasp as my burning throat started pulsing immensely. Too much force had clearly been used.
But that didn matter. I didn care.
How could I say that I wanted to live differently?
And do the exact same thing that Ive done since the age of 2?
I won pull myself back anymore.
Thats what I thought to myself.
I didn want to see wheelchair remains covered in mush in a flashy finish.
I wanted to live differently.
I attempted to pull the wheelchair back from a safe distance but felt my hands swipe air.
I gritted my teeth.
I dashed forward, muscles in my legs strained hard and pushed the wheelchair as hard as I could.
Like moving a braked bike it was tough and I felt the uncomfortable feeling of rubber creating friction against concrete.
I pushed. Keep pushing. And pushed. My elbows creaked and ached yet I pushed. I pushed until I felt the wheelchair rise over the platform and reach the other side.
I looked down not in contentment or relaxation but in tiredness. I was panting heavily and grasping my ribs.
The Boy inside the chair was fine.
We were out of the firing zone.
I had lived differently.
I took a closer look at the boy,
Long hair covered his face. A smile was plastered onto his face.
He was happy.
I was still bending. My hands were on my knees. I looked to the left.
An impending fist from below hit me back. I felt my feet tip over the pavement curb.
I stumbled, but managed to not fall over.
The aches and pants still filled my body.
I looked right.
All I could see was 2 white crosses and a mechanical outline.
Was this the light you see at the end of your life?
Isn it arriving a bit fast?
I couldn even move due to my position.
My slightly hunched posture formed a sorry sight for watchers.
I could only see the wheelchair boys eyes as I felt the sound of metal scraping the flow grow louder, so loud that I could not even describe it for my ears had already gone past their limit.
Revealing a golden tooth.
The truck soon crashed forward.
A bloody red soon covered its front and many pink structures began sliding down its cold metal edges.
The fierce wind from the truck lifted the wheelchair boys hair, revealing a psychotic face smiling madly. His golden tooth being fiddled by his crazy tongue. His golden tooth rocked forwards and backwards as he looked at the organs on the ground in delight.
I saw the gold.
I saw the smile.
So this was revenge huh?
I never saw what happened after in the corner of my eye, a red outline appeared.
All I felt was my body being swiftly thrown into water.
Deep, dark lukewarm water.
And I stayed there.
Waiting for someone to pull me out.
Anyone to pull me out.
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