The Goddess Martyr

Hello everyone :) This is my new story, and you may find a lot of parallels between it and my fanfic for PJO, but this one is with Norse mythology :) Please enjoy, and comment and vote!!

            The bright lights from the ambulance outside blinded me from the window, sirens howling through the muffling glass. I tried not to look outside, though I already knew they were carrying Josh in a stretcher, ready to drive him off to the AberdeenHospital.

            I sighed, inhaling the smell of smoke and chemicals. A floor down, they were still extinguishing the fires from the chemistry lab, broken glass and Bunsen burners littering the place. My right hand twitched, and I glanced down at it, red knuckles clotted with blood that wasn’t mine.

            I felt my stomach twist in disgust, and I grabbed my shirt, wiping my hands on it while I looked away. The metallic taste of the stuff still lingered in my mouth, from when Josh had punched me, back in period 2.

            I’d just been minding my own business, as I’d been doing all semester, but the jock had managed to throw yet another insult at me while Ms. Morton had been busy with some LST student. I swear, from the moment I’d walked in to St. Frederick High, he’d picked me out to be his new victim. All semester I’d had to endure the jeering taunts, random shoving into lockers, and cafeteria food thrown at me, typical jock vs. the new nerd.  It didn’t help that I had zero friends, courtesy of Josh’s threats to the student body, or that I was a nerd, complete with math skills and braces.

            But the punch had been the last straw. I’d been fixing my Bunsen burner, ignoring him as usual, when his fist had appeared from nowhere. I’d taken the hit hard, stumbling back into the counter behind me, disrupting the students working there.

            “What’s the matter? Braces can’t take one hit?” Josh’s nasally voice sneered, brainless thugs beside him laughing automatically. That was when I’d felt the first flame of anger, the one that had gotten me kicked out of four schools prior to this one. I’d tried to smother it, put it out, but it only got worse when Josh continued, imitating me, “Augh!! Nurthe, nurthe help!! My brathez broke, now I’m gonna look like even more of a pussy!!!” His idiot followers laughed at the stupid lisp Josh thought I had.

            My fists ached to smash into his egotistical face, and I twitched, trying to control myself. I didn’t need another guilty phone call to my mom, who’d sigh and start searching for another school that would accept me and my anger issues.

            Then Josh had shoved me, so I’d fallen flat on my ass, tailbone throbbing. He let his beefy shadow cover me, while he spat at me, “Losers like you pop up when there isn’t a man in the house, ‘cause you’re too much of a fucking faggot to be one.”

            Ms. Morton’s heels clicked as she walked over, sharply scolding Josh. He backed away slowly, giving me a grin from my position on the floor, beneath him. I didn’t wait for the teacher to walk away, or even for Josh to turn before I sprang up, slamming my fist into that narcissistic grin. He’d stumbled, but I hadn’t stopped, hitting him again, feeling all my anger at him from the semester thudding in my veins. I had no idea how he’d found out about my father, but he’d chosen the wrong subject to tease me about. His body was the punch bag I’d been needing for the past five years, and I didn’t stop even when he’d smacked into a flaming Bunsen burner, setting the nearby open binder on fire, the teacher screaming at us to stop –

            “Jenson Amundsen. Please enter.”