Vikk's P.O.V.
I closed my eyes and just leaned up against the wall, waiting for the throng of people to pass before I even attempted to fight my way to my classroom at the other end of the hall. Some of the students glared at me as they passed, most of them were my bullies.
I was teased for pretty much everything, because I was nerd and constantly at the top of my class, because I was person of colour in a predominately white school, because I was shorter than all of the others student and mostly because I was mute.
I never learned to talk as a child, my vocal chords didn't form properly so I was never able to speak. I learnt English obviously, I could read and write and understand it when someone spoke to me, but I could never speak it myself. I communicated with my family through sign, but because no one in school understood it no one would understand me when I tried to communicate.
"Move it mute!" One of my biggest bullies spat at me, shoving me from behind when I tried to step into the hall to get to class. I turned around and saw Lachlan, the tall boy who towered over me and pushed me around every opportunity he got. "Get out of the way."
I stumbled back against the wall, my eyes wide, and I watched as he swaggered off down the hall and then turned into the classroom I was aiming for. We had most of our classes together except one, he did P.E. and I did art, I had dropped P.E. as soon as I could.
I sighed and headed for class, ready for another long and slow day.
Lachlan's P.O.V.
I wandered down the hall, well aware that I should be in class. I was skipping English again, knowing that it was another day of doing speeches and I would skip until I didn't have to do mine, no matter what the teacher said. Despite my outer personality I hated public speaking and flat out refused to do, ever.
I heard whooping down the hall and went to investigate, knowing it was probably some of my friends who were skipping like me. A group of them ran out of the boys bathroom, yelling and screaming and bolted off down the hall in the other direction.
There was blood on one of their hands and I froze, looking towards the bathroom door. There was someone in there, bleeding, and I knew it.
Rushing inside I saw a boy lying on the ground, completely unconscious. I recognised him at once, feelings my heart sink when I saw that it was one of the kids I bullied the most and that he was bleeding from a massive cut on his head.
I considered taking him to the nurses office but I decided against it, considering the nurse was useless and she would probably just give him an ice pack and move on. I gently picked him up, cradling him in my arms like a child, and rushed him out of the school, lying him in the back of my car and driving him to my house.
He didn't stir, he stayed completely limp the entire ride home and the blood pouring from his head staining the seat where he was lying. I carried him into the house and laid him down on the bed, wiping the cut. It wasn't actually that deep, head wounds just bled a lot.
He was okay but I felt sick because it was my friends that got him into this situation, it was my friends that beat him up.
It was me that bullied him, and I wanted to change that. I had to do something to get him out of it.
Vikk's P.O.V.
I blinked, my eyes bleary and my head pounding awfully. I groaned, raising my hand to my forehead and, finding a bandage covering my head, I managed to open my eyes and sit up. I was in a bed, covered by a thin blanket in a dark and warm room.
