Prompt: In Colby's latest video he discuses his run ins with bullying in high school. He talks about a time when a group of footballers approached his home when he wasn't there looking for him. What if his parents weren't home when he was?
Sprawled out on the couch watching tv, Colby shovels another slice of pizza into his mouth. His eyes feel somewhat strained since he's been sitting in front of the tv for hours now but he doesn't mind. What can he do? His parents went out on a date, his brother is out with his friends and Sam is busy doing homework. That just leaves him, home alone with nothing to do but mindlessly watch along to crappy reality tv.
A knock at the door startles Colby from his trance and he just barely turns his neck before ignoring it. His mom specifically told him not to answer the door unless he knew who was there. Besides, Gage (his brother) and his parents all have keys so there isn't any reason why they would have to knock.
Colby just shrugs it off, assuming it was just some Jehovah's Witness or something, nothing important. So, he just returns his attention back to the tv and almost instantly forgets about the knock at the door.
A couple minutes later another knock at the door jolts Colby, who turns down the volume to the tv and turns to the door, his face scrunched up as he contemplates answering it. It could just be a really dedicated Jehovah's witness and besides, his mom told him not to and the last thing he wants to do is accidentally get roped into some pyramid scheme just because he answered the door. No, he'll wait until they leave.
Waiting a minute in almost complete silence, Colby shrugs and turns the tv back up, his mind still focused on the door even though he's trying to ignore it to the best of his abilities.
Another five minutes or so go by when another knock rattles Colby from whatever knockoff Bachelorette he's watching. Somewhat irritated, Colby gets up and goes over to the window, gently tucking a piece of the curtains back. He pokes an eye out and squints to see past the dark atmosphere of nighttime, trying to make out a figure at the door. Staring at his door, he suddenly realizes there's no one at the door; the front of his house is void of any person. Colby draws the curtain back further and his eyes immediately widen when he makes out a line of guys around his age dressed in their football uniforms standing at the end of his driveway like bodyguards, their hands clasped in front of them.
Colby immediately ducks down and his breathing gets faster, his eyes comically wide as he grabs his phone from his pocket. With shaking hands, he unlocks his phone and goes to texts, going to his moms contact before sending her a rushed message barely decipherable. It ends up reading something like 'tjere sthese fooyball guys in grobt of th ehoise and i dontk noq what todo m scaref'
He even calls his mom but of course, it goes straight to voicemail and, when he goes to call his dad, the same thing happens. He curses under his breath. They must have put their phones on silent for the date and won't be back home for another hour or so. Shit.
Desperate, Colby goes to texts and goes to Sam, typing out the same message just more grammatically correct. He almost spells all the words right and when he sends it, he finds himself impatiently waiting for Sam's response. What the fuck does he do, what the fuck is going on...
Another knock on the door makes Colby jump slightly, his skin already clammy. He feels like he should just wait but the fear bubbling up inside him is making dozens of questions race through his mind. What if they break in? What if his parents don't come back and he becomes trapped inside his own house? What if they beat him to death?
A sudden confidence surges up in Colby and he manages to confidently yell, "GO AWAY."
He's met with silence and he waits, anticipating something, for an agonizingly long time. He lets his guards down and exhales, assuming they left just because he yelled go away, no matter how little sense it makes. He's just looking for the positive, trying not to stress himself out more than required.
Suddenly fists start banging on the door and Colby jumps, holding back a yelp as his breathing quickens even more, his body trembling and eyes watering as he stares up at the door in pure fear. The pounding at the door stops and only then does he allow himself to exhale. He hangs his head and looks down at his phone, relief washing over him when he sees a text from Sam.
'what? dude wtf does that mean?'
Colby's fingers fumble before he manages to type out a decent text. 'bullies @ my house there pounding on the door looking for me im home alone n scared dude'
Standing up, Colby creeps over to the door and looks out the peephole, seeing the line of jocks still standing at the end of his driveway. Seeing all these intimidating guys looking for him, Colby feels anger start to bubble in his chest. These guys came to his house after school looking for him and what? They just expect him to roll over and allow them to beat the shit out of him? No. He's not gonna bow down to those douches. He's gonna stand up for himself for once in his goddamn life.
With a sudden urge of confidence and adrenaline, Colby unlocks the door and whips it open, his face hardened and angry as he's met with the gazes of all the jocks.
"What the fuck do you want?" He shouts, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands in the doorway, trying to seem menacing. It backfires, however, considering he's a defenceless, lanky 5"7 sixteen year old boy wearing batman pajama pants confronting a line of trained, bulky, 6" seventeen year old football players from his school.
To sum it up, he's fucked.
They don't move for a few seconds, and Colby can't help but wonder if they're instead, hyperrealistic statues put there to prank him, since no one is moving. That theory is blown to smithereens as soon as the guys break into a dead sprint towards the house, startling Colby.
He jumps in his spot and stumbles backwards, grabbing the door and shoving it closed. He almost succeeds, however his attempt is stopped when all the jocks body slam into said door, catapulting it open and Colby off.
Colby finds himself flung backwards but catches himself on his feet, his stance nervous and shaking as seven or eight of these guys come into his house, closing the door behind him. At this point, it's a waiting game. Sweat beads down his forehead as he waits for something to happen, for someone to move, his fear multiplying tenfold as each second goes by.
Unable to wait any longer, Colby makes a run for it and bolts up his stairs, the thumping of guys behind him only making him want to go faster. He makes it to his room but just when he goes to close the door, one of the guys tackles him, and suddenly he's on the hardwood floor, dazed and sluggish. He coughs once or twice and lays there almost limp as the guy stands up and converses with his friends.
Colby's ears feel like they're full of cotton and he can barely hear what they're talking about when he suddenly feels a dozen pairs of feet start to kick him. He barely has time to whine out in pain when the kicking increases, not to mention the addition of punches. All he can do is lay there, holding his arms over his head as he tucks into himself as tight as he can in an attempt to shield his body from the barrage of attacks. He screams and whines, his mouth filling with blood as the attack continues.
It feels like an eternity as the kicks and punches slowly decrease as the jocks start to grow tired, only three or four still beating him. Colby can feel the bruises, the cuts and the definite broken ribs, his entire body that of a broken piñata. He feels like a squashed grape.
Once they stop, Colby inhales greedily, his breathing wheezy and his head spinning as he rolls onto his back. He bites his lip when he rolls onto his heavily bruised back, not that there's a part of him that isn't bruised.
Colby looks up just enough to see the jocks snickering to each other whilst clapping each other on the back in a congratulatory fashion. Colby scowls at them and coughs.
"Hey," He croaks, in an attempt of gaining their attention. To his surprise, they turn towards him and look down at him unimpressed.
"Fuck you." He spits blood out with the curse and he smiles after he says it, no doubt baring bloodied teeth.
One of the players starts fuming, and he lunges forward and falls to his knees on top of Colby. He grabs the younger boy by the collar and rears his other hand back, punching him square in the face. An audible crack elicits from Colby's face and his eyes roll up into his head as he goes limp, the jock dropping him like he's a bag of feces.
They all holler and cheer as they make their way out of the house, leaving a brutally beaten, unconscious Colby laying in a pile of his own blood, sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom.
Meanwhile...
After receiving Colby's text, Sam looks at his phone, brows furrowed and hands trembling slightly. He responds with, 'lock the doors and call the police. Call ur parents too. go to ur room, ok?'
Sam sets his phone down and laces his fingers together, holding his hands to his mouth as he stares down at his phone, waiting for Colby to respond. So he waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Nothing.
Sam's heartbeat steadily increases and he becomes more frantic, texting Colby eight times in a row asking what's going on and if he's okay. The fact that Colby all together stopped texting can only mean nothing good. He keeps asking for affirmation that Colby's okay but he gets nothing.
After five minutes he tells his mom to drive him to Colby's house.
The drive is agonizing, not only the fear but the fact that Sam's mom is trying so hard to convince him that Colby's fine and this is all nothing. But Sam isn't listening. He's thinking about Colby and his mind is giving him hundreds of worst-case-scenarios that he just can't rule out.
As soon as the car stops in Colby's driveway, Sam jumps out and runs up to the door, noting the fact that there's no one outside of the house. Hammering down on the door, Sam desperately hopes Colby's okay.
"COLBY!" He screams, lightening his knocks when he realizes Colby might mistake him for the jocks. "Colby open up, dude. It's me. They're gone, okay? You're good, bro. Just open up."
Silence.
Sam looks back at his mom, who now looks just as worried and Sam turns back around, his face pale and stomach churning. Turning the knob, Sam's mind flashes with panic when it opens without trouble. Why wasn't it locked?
Oh.
Oh no.
Bolting into the house shouting his friends name, Sam runs around the empty living room and kitchen area, searching desperately for Colby. When he determines his friend isn't downstairs, Sam runs upstairs and immediately heads over to his room, the door ominously open just a crack.
Pushing back the door, Sam's eyes widen tenfold and his jaw drops when he sees Colby's state. Bloodied, bruised, unconscious and laying in a puddle of his own blood on the floor. To say Sam is horrified was a HUGE understatement. This is his best friend, his brother he's seeing in a heap on the floor. The only thing stopping him from having a panic attack is the fact that Colby needs him; Colby needs his help.
"Holy shit," Sam sinks down to his knees, collapsing basically, and he grabs Colby's head, holding it on his lap as he tries to gently wake his friend, his stomach doing backflips as he awaits some kind of response. Colby's face is mostly untouched besides the blood dripping out of his nose, which is bruised along the bridge. He's so pale he looks dead almost, which is something Sam tries his hardest not to think about.
"MOM!" Sam screams, not holding back. "MOM! Call 911, I-we need an ambulance!"
"Sam, honey, what-" Sam's mom pushes open the door and as soon as she sees Sam cradling Colby's grotesque form in his lap, without a word she pulls out her phone and starts dialling 911.
"C-Colby," Sam's voice breaks. "C-can you hear me, bro?" He gently taps Colby's head, trying not to injure him but simply conjure him from unconsciousness. "Please... dude, I-I need you to wake up. Please..."
Colby's eyes remain closed and Sam slips into a mantra of "please," and "I need you to wake up," his voice breaking every so often. Soon the begging turns into sobbing, which leaves Sam leaning over his best friend, sobbing and hoping him to wake up.
"Colby wake the fuck up, dude"-sniff-"Come on, bro. Please, I-I can't-"
Sam gently grips onto Colby's hair, trying to ground himself as he ignores his mom talking to the paramedics on the phone behind him. He shakes Colby's head gently, willing if not praying to whatever God is out there that Colby will just wake up right now.
Sam looks up just in time as Colby lulls his head to the side, his eyes slowly opening as he lets a croaky groan escape from his lips. He squeezes his eyes back shut before opening them once more, rolling his head back to his initial position. He meets Sam's teary gaze, his head cocking to the size when he sees an upside-down crying Sam leaning over him.
"Wha..." He shifts in his spot and furrows his brows when he realizes he's laying on something hard. He lifts his head as much as he can and makes out his bedroom around him, his body sprawled out on the uncomfortable wood floor. He groans again.
"C-Colby, y-you're awake!" Sam exclaims in relief, wiping the tears from his eyes as he sniffles. "Oh my God, dude..." He trails off. "I-I thought you were... You weren't waking up, man, you scared the crap outta me..."
Looking up at Sam in confusion, Colby lets out a long whine, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain enveloping his entire body. "Wha... happened..." He manages, weakly. "...Sam?"
"Yea, bro, it's me." Sam confirms, smiling. "Those g-guys showed up, remember? You told me those football players showed up."
Almost like a punch to the gut, Colby's assaulted with the memories of everything that happened before he woke up. He remembers seeing those guys out on his driveway, he remembers running up to his room and being tackled, he remembers the ruthless beating and the punch to the face before he passed out. It all comes back which makes his head throb painfully.
He gasps and whines, bringing a sluggish hand to his forehead where he rests it against his pounding head, as if trying to lessen it somehow.
"Y-yeah... I remember..." He slurs. "'M hurt."
"Yeah, no shit. You just got beat to shit by a gang of jocks," Sam tries humour, noticing the slight upturn in Colby's lips at the comment.
"The ambulance is here," Sam's mom suddenly says, which reminds Sam of her presence.
"Hear that, Colbs?" Sam prods. "Let's get you downstairs."
Colby nods sluggishly as Sam repositions himself over Colby, when he takes Colby under the arms and props him up. Soon, he has his arm slung under Colby's armpits (his mom in the same position on Colby's other side) and they take him down to the front of the house.
It takes longer than both Sam and his mom would like to admit but once they get out the front door, the paramedics sprint over and take Colby from the two, who's basically a limping deadweight. The weight is shifted and two other paramedics wheel out a gurney and they carefully lower Colby onto it, adjusting him based on his visible injuries. They themselves seem surprised to see someone Colby's age beaten so mercilessly.
Sam and his mom ask the paramedics if Colby's gonna be okay and they tell them they'll do everything they can, which only slightly relieves Sam. They instruct the two to call Colby's family and to follow them to the hospital since only family members can ride with Colby in the ambulance.
Sam and his mom both nod sadly and hold each other until they get to their car, where they begin on their way to the hospital whilst Sam regretfully calls Colby's parents to tell them what happened to their son.