Bullied

Warning: Not suitable for all ages. This material contains violence and adult language.

From the right a fist swung at me. I couldn't duck in time and it hit my left eye. I collapsed on the ground and He kicked my jaw. He stomped on my stomach twice before spitting on my face. I felt like dirt. I shuddered and struggled to get up and he kicked me down again. He kicked my elbow and there was an audible rip as the skin tore. Blood poured on the ground in a red river. Tears trickled from my eyes as the pain grew immense and I blacked out.

He was named Caleb Johnson and there were plenty of him. I was bullied intensely. This happened all the time and no one did anything about it. I tried to talk to counselors, but they never helped me. The bullies would just attack me twice as badly the next day for snitching. After trying with the counselors, I just decided to give up. What was I going to do? Was I going to switch schools? My mom couldn't afford a private school and we couldn't move again. My dad was in prison. I was at the point where I wanted to die.

Taylor didn't want me to die. He was, in fact, the only thing that kept me wanting to live. He was my best friend. We were Sophomores. He was the one to take me to the nurse's office every day after my beating's and hide me when he could. He never understood how much I appreciated his help.

One Thursday, we were walking home through the neighborhood's park.

"Taylor, want to go to the movie's this weekend?" I asked. "I have money."

He shook his head, "I think you should save it."

"Why?"

"You know..." he trailed off. "You might need it in case we have to go to the emergency room again."

I winced. I hated that. What 15 year-old has to do that? We really should be worrying about prom, not having to go to the emergency room. This made my blood boil. These bullies needed to go. I made a fist with my hand.

"Piper, don't you think you should just go home and rest? You've been through a lot recently," Taylor said gently.

I sat down on a bench and swung my feet back and forth. I was wearing shorts and I had bruises all down my legs. I also had cuts and scrapes. I rubbed my knee where I had a huge scab that was trying to heal. I knew it was just going to get cut open again. I glared at it, "I hate high school. I want it to be over."

"I know, Piper. It will be over in a few years. Just wait it out," he said reassuringly. 

"They're going to kill me before then!" I said, tears welling in my eyes.

Silence fell between us. Both of us knew that this was a possibility. In the direction things were going, it could very well happen that things could get carried away and they could punch me in the wrong spot in the neck or I could loose too much blood one day. We knew this bullying was unhealthy for my psyche as well. I rubbed my temples. What was I going to do?

"I have to fight back," I said sternly.

"You can't fight back. They're stronger than you," Taylor said. His deer brown eyes were begging me not to. His shaggy black hair was in his face. I brushed it out of his eyes.

"You worry about me like my family does," I smiled. "But I'll be okay."

He shook his head, "No, you won't. You should have seen how you were the last time I carried you to the nurse's office. I was worried sick."

"Taylor," I put my hand on top of his resting on the bench. I felt his whole body go rigid. I wondered what it was, but didn't ask him. "I'll be fine."

Taylor's eyes shifted warily before kissing me on the cheek, "Please be careful," he whispered. He got up and ran home. My fingers traced the spot where he kissed.

Wow, someone cared about me? I shrugged, it was just Taylor... but... Wait, just Taylor? He had been there for me the whole time I lived there. Why hadn't I realized this before? My cheeks burned. Suddenly, I wished Taylor hadn't run away. I wished he would have stayed, then we would have been able to walk home together.

With my newfound crush in my heart, I walked home. Approaching an alley, I heard the kicking of a can. My heart sunk as Allen Walker ambled out of the darkness. He stood under the streetlight and smiled at me, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"I'm going home," I said sternly. I already got beat up once today, I didn't need it again.

"Not yet, you aren't," he clenched his fist.

I swallowed hard. The last thing I saw was a fist coming right at my face, then complete darkness.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When I woke up, I was surrounded by white walls and a faint beeping sound was ringing in my ears. I inhaled and noticed it sounded a little strange. I looked down and saw I was wearing one of those breathing masks. A ventilator? Yeah, that's what they're called. Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked to the side and saw my wallet sitting on top of my jacket. That asshole didn't even take my wallet. I know it's weird to say, but I wish he had. If he had taken it, then it would have at least made it seem more of like a robbery. This was just plain hatred. As I looked around the room, my mother was nowhere to be seen and neither was Taylor.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next few days went by slowly. I wasn't improving and I wasn't responding to the nurse's questions. Where was Taylor? Why hadn't he showed up yet? Where was my mom? She would know... Finally, on the third day, she ran into the hospital.

"Sorry it took me so long, I had work," she said as she sat down. Without looking up from her cell phone, she asked, "Who beat you up this time?"

The nurses had taken me off the ventilator by now and I mumbled, "Allen."

"Him, I know his mom. She's a client, though, so I can't say anything. Business. You know how it is, sweetie," she went on. Everything was always business with her.

"Where's Taylor?"

"Oh, you haven't heard? He's dead, honey. Got hit by a car on the way to the hospital trying to see you," she said so flatly.

"What?" I breathed. How could my mom be so heartless.

"The funeral was yesterday. Tons of flowers everywhere."

"You. Didn't. Tell. Me," Tears were flowing evenly down my cheeks. This woman was not my mother. She was just someone who gave birth to me. Taylor, my one friend, my only crush, was gone.

Mom shrugged. She typed something in on her cell phone. Really? That was it. She didn't care? I felt this anger rising up in my chest that had never been there before. I yanked the tubes out of my arms, causing the machine to go flat and blood to pour out of my veins, but I didn't care anymore. The one true love of my life was gone. Dead.

"Honey, you're overreacting," she said simply.

"YOU'RE UNDER-REACTING!" I screamed. I threw my arms around her neck and started choking her, tears falling down my face like a river. "You never cared about me! You wanted me to suffer. You wanted me to die! You know what? Now you're going to get your wish because the one person who was there for me is dead and you never even told me!"

The woman formerly called my mother gasped for air as the nurse ran into the room. She called for more nurses as they tried to get more people in the room. She attempted to pull me off of her, but my strength was too much. For once, I was strong. More and more nurses came into the room. Finally, they were able to pry me away from that horrible woman. She was choking, but alive, sadly. She was covered in my blood and ran out of the room.

"You better run, bitch!" I screamed.

I was strapped to my bed and injected with something that immediately made me calm down, but I had already lost a lot of blood from yanking the tubes from my veins. I felt light-headed and closed my eyes for the last time. I was going to be joined with Taylor once again. I smiled as I drifted off into a separate world.