Tale of the Gifted Beings

chapter 2

chapter 2

MY TINY AND LITHE FINGERS clasped onto the illicit cache of candies I'd taken from the matron's hallowed office. Her high-pitched voice echoed behind me, ricocheting off the frigid stone walls of the orphanage. However, I was already too far ahead. The excitement of misconduct was the sweetest candy I'd ever tasted.

Afterwards, I sprinted towards an open window as I tucked the candies with me. The shabby wooden frame scraped open with a recognizable protest I know too well. Then, I took a leap, my small body caving in to the clutch of the air, the smell of escape resolute in the autumn air. Falling towards the ground, I popped and rolled, my white dress collecting the earth's soil and dust.

"Dang it! "I mentally exclaimed. I scraped my knee by accident. I looked up to see if the matron had peeked out of the window, and there she was, her eyes fuming in anger. 'Funny,' I thought. Her face was funny.

I ran and slid into a clump of bushes while laughing. The green leaves communicated to me; their constant rustling made a calming and serene sound. I hid there, hiding and waiting 'til the matron's annoyed yells receded, her muttering curses becoming faint.

Once her presence was nothing but a puff in the air, I finally came out of the bush, my tiny figure soaked in the morning light. The orphanage then became silent again, the only noise being the far-off tune of the birds chirping and the swooshing of the leaves above me. I went towards my favorite spot where an old oak tree at the back of the orphanage stood tall, its twigs reaching out as if to poke at the clouds above.

As I inched closer toward the tree, my heart twitched in my chest as I heard voices near the area. I stopped, my instincts telling me to be wary. The voices were unknown to me, raspy and unsympathetic, meandering through the wind in my direction. I fall back into the bush, my small body hidden by the sun-touched verdure.

As I peeked through the leaves and flowers, I spotted three boys circling a small, defenseless girl—her short hair was like color of the night and her eyes, even from this space, a deep, dark brown. She's Asian—I suppose—and she stood there like a scared figure against the backdrop of the boys' mocking giggles.

I just kept observing them from a safe distance. The boys, as I noticed, were larger and older, and their voices had a disgusting sound of teasing. The scene happened before me like a terrible theater play, each evil mock slipping through the calmness of the late morning. What on earth are they doing?

The boys then continued their teasing, their laughs ringing through the peaceful morning, a contrast sound that caused my blood to boil. Yet, I stayed hidden, a silent witness to this drama with unease and irritation conflicting within me. Should I defend the girl? Should I stay away?

"Aren't you going to fight back, Mamori?" one of the three boys taunted. His voice was like the unpleasant caw of a bird, raspy and pathetic.

"You don't belong here," the other said, mocking the defenseless girl. "You look different."

I remained hidden in the messy bush, the smell of misty soil and crumpled ferns beneath my feet stuffing my lungs. The boys kept up with their persistent teasing, their amusement echoing through the bush. While the boys were throwing their tirades, I saw Mamori's face crumble beneath their words, her tears finally escaping her eyelids. They fell down her cheeks, each one a testimony to her sorrow and pain.

"Please, stop," Mamori pleaded.

"Please, stop," the biggest kid mockingly mimicked her. "We'll only stop if you leave."

The place surrounding me started to blur, the colors of the forest blending into a flurry of green and brown. My heart pummeled in my chest like an untamed beat, each hit echoing the weird sensation in my chest. Should I intervene?

As I continued watching the scene happen before me, I was like, 'Nah.' But still, my nails dug into the palm of my hands, my tiny hands clenched into fists. I felt the prickly sensation of the leaves against my skin, the bush tapping through my thin dress and into my skin. I barely noticed the irritation, though. My mind was deep in thought about the event that is currently happening before me. Every nudge and every teasing word they cast at Mamori was like an awful scene to endure.

My stare moved from Mamori to the boys, their smirks wide and annoying. My mind started to contemplate a whirlwind of thoughts that somehow made me confused. I honestly wanted to leap out of my hiding place and to help Mamori. But something was bitter on my tongue, immobilizing me.

"Stay away, freak!" one of the boys yelled, his voice as venomous as the bite of a snake. His fingers were clenched into fists, knuckles white beneath the sun's unwavering stare.

I recognized the anxiety that had grappled with my chest like a vine, sprouting and compressing the air out of me. But even so, there was no single doubt inside my mind about what needed to be done. I inhaled deeply and got out from under the thick bush, my tiny feet making a soft sound against the underbrush.

The boys then noticed my presence, their laughter filling the air with sharp and sadistic expressions as they belittled my small stature. "What's this?" one of them said slowly, a grin forming on his face.

"Perhaps a little flower will come to save the day," the other one said.

I stayed still in my ground, my chest hauling from a pluck far past my years. Disregarding their mockeries, and without saying anything, I charged at them. My tiny figure smashed into the first boy as I caught him off guard. He slipped back, shock-painting his features right before he fell to the ground, a shroud of dust spiraling up around him.

"Kick her!" the skinny one shouted.

Stunned silence filled Mamori as the other two boys stared at their friend falling. However, it was cut short as I rushed myself toward the second boy. His eyes became wider just in time to see me tanking into him, making him sprawl onto the ground like a wimp.

For some reason, I found it satisfying to see bullies get a taste of their own medicine.