[1]Nathan

10.1K 338 53

There’s a split second,

Where you anticipate what’s going to happen.

But you realize too late.

You feel the fist smash into your face.

And the arms that hold you in place tighten.

They restrain you,

Confine you,

Hurt you.

It’s not like you would fight back.

If you could,

You’d run

You’d run fast,

Home to your Mom

And little brother.

You didn’t do anything;

These guys just pick on you,

Harm you,

Hurt you,

Fracture you.

Stay away from Jocelyn,

The one in front of you spits.

But wasn’t it the other way around?

Jocelyn, the pretty,

Popular,

Perfect girl,

Had come up to you.

She wanted to see you,

Know you,

Love you.

Nobody likes poor kids.

He punches you in the stomach,

And you grunt in pain.

You stare at the ground.

You watch your blood drip,

Drip,

Drip,

Until it lands in small pools.

It's the only thing you can do,

To ignore the pain.

When their done,

They drop you in a heap.

You lay on the asphalt,

Helpless,

Bloody,

Broken,

As they walk away laughing.

When their out of your sight,

You take off your gray sweater.

It's already covered in blood,

So you wipe off your face,

Your hands,

Your own blood.

When you’re done,

You pick yourself up off the ground,

And head towards home.

When you reach your street,

You stop beside a bush,

And bunch up your sweater.

You throw it inside,

Where no one can see.

That's one less piece of clothing you own,

But blood stained anyway.

Your mom won't be happy,

But she can't know why it's gone.

When you walk through the front door,

She rushes to you,

Worried,

Concerned,

Upset.

Nathan,

She whispers,

What happened?

You wince,

As she runs her fingers over your left eye.

You shake your head,

Tell her that you were playing baseball.

Your six year old brother,

Follows you to the bathroom.

You shut the door before he can see you.

He would tell Mom if he saw more wounds.

You stare into the mirror,

At your bruised,

Broken,

Face.

Next you lift up your green shirt,

To see why you’re throbbing.

Your stomach is all purple,

Black,

And blue.

Just another one to hide from Mom,

From your brother,

From everyone.

You silently cry,

Scared,

Worried,

Upset.

Because you know,

Tomorrow will be exactly the same as today.

PressureRead this story for FREE!