It Doesn't Have To Get Violent

story

The dog tags hung loosely around my neck glistening with the poppy red and teardrop blue flashing lights. However, that's the only thing that hadn't changed in the last few hours : my shirt torn and dirty, hands kept captive by the tightening restraints and my pride both physically and mentally burnt.

Slurs shouted and insults thrown to rile me up but I didn't give in. The beast stood above staring down at my battered form, it had a maniac grin and my blood coated its fists, but still I got up. I threw my own insults and punches till it have up but it didn't it was still moving, breathing, hating with every bone in its body. The monstrous being grabbed me by my dog tags. However, this was a fatal mistake. I grabbed his wrist and twistedit but before I could here a crack, two arms wrapped around my torso while the other pried the beasts grimey mitts off me.

Shivering, in the brightly little I sat, anticipating for what would happen next but already knowing and just as I thought my family burst in. My parents followed by my older sister. I was told to explain and I lost myself in the story.

I stood in the group, flag held high and mighty and proudly on show. When suddenly...

...it was grabbed violently out of my hand.

I looked up to meet the eyes of a beast and a psychotic smirk curled his lips as the man spook one word.

The word stung my heart and my anger felt among the group as a collective breath was drawn in.

The dog tags hung loosely around my neck glistening with the reflection of my burnt pride. The blue, pink and white ruined with smudges of inky black and ruby red seeping through it all