Breaking Down Your Walls

Intro

This story is purely fictional, yet with the mention of some real locations.

Warning: The story deals with topics such as: racism, homophobia, strong language, martial arts, fight scenes, verbal and physical abuse and suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

Zane

He's always been like that. So determined yet understanding, a combination that pisses me off to no end and renders me speechless, every time.

Yet, he is always stuck around with me. For me.

I still remember how we got to first meet.

My parents had just moved to Aberdeen from Newcastle. Their stocks in our iron and steel production company had risen a lot in this city and our department in Newcastle was failing. It made sense to change our whole lives for that stupid company. Only my grandmother and grandfather from my father's side were disagreeing, the people that were my de facto parents, that were raising me. My mother and father, well, were rarely at home. Sometimes I couldn't remember their facial features. Maybe this dysfunctional shit turned me into such an asshole. A cold, calculating bully that preferred to be friendless.

Anyway, I was 10 at the time. When I entered the class, everyone was sitting with someone. A student's worst nightmare; being the new kid. Plus, my fellow classmates realized by the end of the day that I didn't want to be approached. I hated human contact, I hated touching. Still do.

A month or so had passed. I was friendless but excelling in classes. I was alone by choice and I liked to occasionally glare or push others out of my way. Soon they realized I was no pushover. Two boys from grade 5 tried to bully me once. I broke the one's nose, the other just fled to the teachers. However, there was a staff member that had noticed from afar that I was pushed around, so it was attributed as self defence.

The teacher didn't know though, that for the past week I was making sure that they would bully me. I was provoking them separately, one by one. What were their names? Josh and Vin? Who gives a damn, I wanted to have fun. The school was calm and boring, I needed to vent my anger and angst of parental neglect I guess. Or maybe I have always been a dick and just wanted to act on it.

Anyway, this went on for two years. I remember how my fellow classmates didn't even want to greet me. Good, they are afraid, I was thinking with malice. This would make my life easier. Plus, I could use this as an excuse to bully someone else.

One fateful May day, when classes were over, I was unlucky enough to be one of the two last kids in class, me and a kid whose name I didn't remember. Actually I didn't give a damn about anyone's name. The only distinctive features he had was a cool teal hat he wore everyday and his dark blue eyes which, in the number of times anyone dared to look at me in class, his eyes, after overcoming the initial surprise of my cold glare, showed no fear when I looked at him. He was just shrugging and looking elsewhere. He looked like another loner like me. I had thought of messing with him a couple of times, but I had seen him in the MMA gym a few days ago and he seemed a lot more experienced in fighting than I was, so I changed my mind. If I were to be beaten up, it would create a whole scandal for the family. Beating others up however, was fun. Especially when I was covering it for self defence.

My reputation however, which started to go around at school, made three kids from 8th grade to mess with me before that day ended. They were taller than me. Definitely stronger. I could see their hateful, smug expressions as they were approaching me, closing the class door, and spreading up in order to not allow me to escape.

'You are the tough shit here, huh, blackie' one of the kids asked. He had red hair and an ugly mug. His two, brunette friends in terms of looks were as distinctive as a shelve full of discount forks, however they called me black and a negro.