Winged

Chapter 20

"I don't want to go mum!" Apollo yelled to his mum with his childish voice, stubbornly crossing his little arms over his chest, making his mum mad.

"Apollo Elio Sidereus! We've been over this. You are going to school right now. Get out of this car." The equally stubborn mother said to her son. "Apollo, I'm serious. Get out of this car. I am going to be late!"

"I don't want to go! Drive me back home!" Apollo yelled again, his eyes getting watery. The mother sighed at that. She was not the type of mother who would change her mind the moment he son would shed a tear, but something twisted in her now because Apollo had been so sad for so many days now and she really didn't know why. She gave a look to her husband who was sitting at the passenger's seat and just shrugged at her, not knowing exactly what to do, too.

"Look, buddy," His father started talking. A man around thirty-three or so, with a kind smile and slim features. "I know you don't like school that much, and believe me I get it. Kids can be... They can be mean. But you shouldn't show them that they can actually affect you. They shouldn't be affecting you. You're an amazing boy, with a brilliant mind and whoever's saying otherwise is just jealous and insecure."

"You don't get it dad! None of you do!" Apollo protested and furiously got out of the car, crossing the road to get to his school. The two parents looked at each other, before starting the SUV car, leaving for their jobs.

Apollo, on the other side of the road, forced himself to get into the building he hated so much, his foot shuffling against the tiles.

"Well, well... If that isn't Apollo, ey? Good to see you back." A group of boys approached the scrawny boy in the empty hallway. Apollo had already been late in class and roaming alone in a deserted hallway had become a certain death wish for him during his school years. Especially when those particular boys wanted to have their fair share of fun. Apollo tried to make his way through them without paying any attention, but he was shortly cut off by a strong shove to his chest.

"I'm talking to you, prick. It's not really nice to walk away when I'm talking." The taller boy gave him a scoff, the other three copying him. Apollo was scared. Even though he pretended not to be, his heart was beating faster than ever as he tried to leave again, this time the shove sending him to the floor. He slowly tried backing away from them, his eyes hooded with fear.

"Are you scared?" The other boy laughed, making his friends laugh along, clapping his back as though he was some kind of a hero. Apollo just continued staring at them, praying that they would just play along for a little while and then leave him be. "Oh, poor lad is scared. What are we going to do about it, Scott?"

"Dunno... Maybe..." The first boy replied again giving Apollo a god-awful grin again before his fist landed straight to Apollo's nose. Apollo then shouted, at the top of his lungs, praying that somebody would hear him. It was a goddamn school! Somebody had to hear him. "What is it, Apollo? Does it hurt? Shut up now."

"That's right shut up." The second boy approached him, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up. The third boy was just standing there, afar, watching his friends being cruel to Apollo, in his face a look of disgust and fear as he watched them.

"G-Guys. C'mon, you're taking it too far." He said, his voice trembling as he swallowed thickly. The first boy turned to him with a confused expression, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he did so.

"Relax, Justin. We're going to have just a little fun." He said a mean grin on his features as he gave another strong punch to Apollo, making everything go black.

"OH MY GOD!" Timothee's voice echoed through the quiet house, sounding like someone was stubbing him, in a way Evan had never heard it before.

"What... Oh my god, Timmy! What is it?!" Evan slowly opened his eyes turning around on the bed only to be met by Timothee sitting at the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his shirt wet with sweat, his hair plastered on his forehead an expression of pain on his features. "Timothee! Talk to me!"