1,000,000 miles in opposite directions.

                                                                A more innocent time…

   The boy was five at the time. And he was invisible… He was shy, socially awkward and scared of everyone around him. He sat quietly in the very last desk of his crowded classroom, arms laying on his desk and his head resting upon them. Staring out the nearest window through the shades of which the teacher had closed, or rather, attempted to close. The rest of the children were giggling at a movie that raged on the big screen that the teacher had also gifted to the class. In hopes that they settle down enough to line up for lunch in nearly ten or so minutes. The boy you would assume would indulge in this activity…But no. He searched the blinds, he hunted over and over for one spec of light to greet his hazel orbs, which were hidden, more or less by brown hair, messy and thick. Yet soft as cotton. The name tag on the boy’s shirt read as follows: “Hello my name is Tommy” This was a way of allowing the teacher to keep them in order. Tommy didn’t care that it wasn’t his full name…A quick look around the classroom gave him the idea of what his classmates would be like. Some were sleeping, others finding sharp objects to shove up their noses, and one “little explorer” in the corner was eating glue. Tommy didn’t find anyone particularly interesting….And he’d be stuck with these people for the next six years? It was then that he noticed her, the very first row, sitting quietly, and staring at the blinds. Out the window. She had brown hair, much like his own, sparkling blue eyes, and she was wearing a pink dress. Maybe this whole…”School” thing, may not be so bad after all.

                                                                             7 years later.

   “Tommy!!” cried a little girl, brown hair fell disheveled in her face, and tears ran down both cheeks. She had been knocked down, the bully who’d done so was standing over her, emptying the contents of her small pink back pack onto the asphalt, sneering sheepishly. Finding nothing of particular interest he turned his gaze back on the little girl, a hand was extended towards her when the little boy intercepted. He was thin, auburn hair fell in his eyes, he wore a hoodie, yellow in color with the sleeves cut off near the bicep, underneath this was a long sleeve in a light tan color.  His hazel eyes stared into the bully’s. The bully in question? He’d caught his victim when she exited the middle school, he was two grades higher than them, and a freshman in high school himself. He was waiting on his parents to pick him up, due to the fact the middle and high schools were next to one another. And the little girl? She had missed her bus due to the fact that this boy had wrestled her back pack away from her, digging through it with grubby paws. His name was Bochiro, and he was on his way to becoming a world class douche bag. So, where did our would be hero Tommy come in? Well, he happened to stick to this little girl like glue, only today? He’d tripped and been trampled under a thousand middle scholar feet, only now had he brushed himself off, ran outside and found the displeasing scene.

       “Leave her alone…” Tommy demanded, though his voice stuttered. This kid was taller, stronger, bigger than Tommy, and he couldn’t win…Bochiro knew. And so he stabbed his chubby finger into Tommy’s chest, mockingly spitting words at him.

       “Yer? And whutchu gonna do ‘bout it Hunh? You gonna do some fin about it? Huh?! You gonna do some fin?” He followed this by plunging his fist into Tommy’s stomach, rewarded by his cry and immediate limpness. The breath forced from the small boy’s lungs. Bochiro waited for Tommy to hit the ground, before aiming a rough kick at his ribs, and then another, two more followed. The little girl behind the little under dog hero sobbed, crying harder with each hit Tommy took.