:Ticci Toby:{A Rewrite}

10

The next day rolled around and their dad wasn't so happy about the complete waste of money. It got physical quickly but it wasn't nothing Toby couldn't handle. He was better at fighting off his dad but that didn't help the fact the man went for the other family members as well. Toby scrambled out with only a black eye and possibly bruised ribs. He couldn't lie and say he didn't go to bed sobbing, he most definitely did. He no longer kept the cow plush on his bed, instead it sat on the small shelf above his bed. Toby chewed on the strings on his jacket to help calm himself. Chewing on well, anything, helped him. Wither it be his cheek, hands, jacket strings, anything.

He would lock his door but his dad had the lock removed a year ago after Toby used it to get away from his angry father. It did hurt sometimes that the man didn't always used to be like this, until he started gambling and getting dangerously drunk.
He was surprised the man hasn't died from how much he has consumed.

He couldn't quite remember when, but Lyra came in and calmed him down, pulling one of her own personal pair of headphones onto him and let him listen to music while she hugged him tight.
They almost stayed like that all night.

The next few days of school were not so great. The kids that cut him kept giving him stupid faces, while others mocked his panicked tics and overal way of existing. He always hugged himself when he walked, usually having a hoodie string in his mouth or chewing on his thumb. Kids would inch near him, mimicking those things.

He wasn't the only kid getting bullied, but it felt like they only bullied him, to this severe extent.

One day, he was even pushed into one of the empty trash cans that sat near the walls of the lunch room. That's how he met the janitor. That guy was very friendly and honestly was the only person he talked to when he got the chance.
Toby started to hang out in the janitor's closet during lunch, since everyday it was something.
Toby kept getting in trouble for skipping class just to stay in the little closet. It was the only sense of peace he got during the day. Could you blame him?

It was Friday, the end of the week. Toby was having to walk home like usual. Sometimes Lyra would pick him up, but today wasn't the day.
As he walked he could hear the wheels of bikes get closer and closer.
He turned to see the same kids, pedaling towards him at full speed.
"hey!" Toby scurried out of the way, nearly falling as they just missed completely running into him. These kids were violent.

Toby just turned and started to run the opposite direction from where he was originally going. He couldn't let these kids know where he lived.

Instead he just ran, Toby darted through yards, alley roads, even the highway. No matter how fast or how many turns he made the three kids followed, yelling and cooing that stupid nickname at him.
All of the cars honking, and people yelling at him to slow down, yet all he could hear were their words. Was no one trying to help him?

Maybe he needed to stop waiting for help, and do it himself. Yet he still ran, everything going in slow motion now. Suddenly he ran into someone, it was an older man, who looked to be in his 30s. He immediately went to apologizing, but was stopped, the man gripping onto his shoulders.
The kids on bikes pulled onto their breaks, glaring at the two. "Is that your old man?" They called out.
One of the kids got off of his bike, still staring.

To Toby's surprise the man spoke up. "You can say that, now scram! Or it won't be pretty!"

The kids laughed, the one approaching. "Or what? you gon' fight us? You can't hit me, I'm a kid." They all laughed.
Toby felt the grip tightening then let go, he was still held there though, being eyed at by the man. "I might not be able to, but he can."