Spirit

The Glass House

I've been bullied since as long as I can remember. At the orphanage everyone disowned me and the volunteers that helped out there always glared at me and called me "demon" or "monster".

At age 7 I went to the local elementary school of this small town I reside in. Even there I was disrespected. Anyone who tried to deal with me quickly gave up because of my loudness and hyperactive energy. I was so use to making myself happy and fixing my own problems that I learnt to deal with the glares and getting pushed or bumped around quicker, because I will always know just how much more it hurts to be ignored and feel alone.

During my 9th year of existence a boy moved to my class. He seemed an awful lot like me. Big smile, a bit of a trouble maker and covered in dirt. Probably from playing out on the yard.

His name was Sasuke Uchiha. He owned a pair of pretty dark eyes that were nicely complimented by ebony black hair, that was spiked at the back but shaped his slim, pale face beautifully. He was also the top in our class and all the girls loved him. Honestly I think he earned his hotness with his status rather than his looks. I'd never say that out loud though.

One fateful day I was running around as usual, rambling on about this silly ideal I had and accidentally ran into a few really tough kids. Their build was huge, too huge, at least too huge for a 9 year old. They were well known around the area for a quick temper and monster strength. Nobody wanted to make them angry. Unless of course you're as stupid as I was...

They turned around quickly, rage stricken eyes and shoved me harshly to the playground dirt. "What the hell!" He screamed angrily.

"You two are idiots! Watch where your going!" I screamed back.

The two boys grabbed me by my collar and pulled me off the ground to their level. My feet barley meeting the ground. I knew I was in trouble, I knew that if I apologised at that moment they probably would've let me go.

But I was so caught up in making sure no one forgot about me that I wasn't thinking about how many more bruises my body could take.

Blood.

Pain.

Dirt.

Brightness.

Voices.

Why was I such an idiot? Why wasn't I able to look after myself better? Why did I have to be saved? Why did I have to be carried out on an ambulance stretcher? Why did I have to look back and see such disgusted expressions? Why did they all have to be directed at me?

Nobody actually cared.

"--you okay?"

"What's your name?"

My eyes cracked open to white lights and agonising pain.

"I'm glad your awake." A relieved voice sighed.

"Wh-what happened?" My voice croaked quietly. I lifted my head slightly and sat up properly on the hospital bed I was in. The pain stung a little but I was okay as long as I stayed still.

Turning my head to the side I saw the new boy from school sitting is a white chair next to my bed.

"You got hurt. So I called the ambulance." His voice rung lightly. It was calm and settling for me.

When I took a proper look at his body I noticed he had a cut above his eyebrow and a busted lip.

"That was pretty crazy what you did. Those two were pretty tough." He sung. He rotated in his chair with his knees to his chest and faced me properly. "What did you do to tick them off?" He asked