We are Infinite

Prologue

Hey there readers! Here's another story I've been working on! This is the first draft, so there might be some grammar mistakes here and there... I'll edit it later ;)

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I am dying, I have many wounds.

I got them when I was walking home from school and a gang of what looked like older boys, or at least taller and stronger than me, were beating up another little kid. I am seventeen and I am short and I am not very strong either.

I didn’t know who exactly the kid was or why the other boys were beating him up but I went over, by instinct, to try and help get away from them.

I push my way through the older boys and grab the little boys arm and try to pull him out. I was too slow and not strong enough. One of the older boys took a hold of my arm, twisted it so that my arm is pressed up against my back and kicked me in the stomach so hard, the impact made my body hit the wall behind me. Pain races up through my spine. I feel light headed, I lean over; hands on my knees head bent over and cough out what looks to be blood. My long brown hair blocking my view of whats in front of me.

"Help," I said almost in a whisper because I couldn't get my voice to get any higher.

The boys laugh, "Help? You're asking for help! Look around you, does it look like you are going to get any help around here?" his voice was deep and threatening. I coughed and tried again, "help," but my voice was quieter than it was before.

My head still hung toward the ground, I see a pair of feet getting closer and closer to me. I try and move out of the way but I can’t, I feel like I have no energy left. I just lean against the wall not able to move, I try and use all the strength I have left to move and run away taking the little boy with me but I don’t see him and my feet stay planted on the ground. I lift my head a little and see one the boys hand curled into a fist. ‘This can’t be good,’ I thought to myself.

Before I can blink the boy’s fist hits connects to my ear knocking me off balance and my body slams into the ground. ‘Get up, get up, get up,’ I tell myself. I try and lift my body up with my arms but they collapsed beneath me, my face slamming into the ground. There is a stinging ache in my nose and cheeks. I lift my hand up to touch where the pain is coming from. My hand pulls away once it comes into contact with my skin, my fingertips are covered with blood.

Something hits my stomach again and again. Where’s the little boy, is he okay? My hearing fogs, it feels like I’m trying to listen to someone talk underwater. And I start to see black spots in

my vision. Another kick comes into my ribs and all I see is black.

I close my eyes there is no point in having them open and one kick after another collide with my body. My heart beats against my chest, fast. My hearing comes back and I hear the footsteps of the people who beat me up leaving and the little boy comes up to help his footsteps stopping at my head. "Here she is," his voice echoed through my head.

"Nice work son," another man said.

"Thanks," the little boy said in a quiet voice. "Is she going to be alright, father?"

"Of course son, how could you think otherwise?"

"Well, it's just because her face and her eyes... there not opened."

"Yes, well they are just minor bruises. Let's get her to the hospital."

I felt someone pick me up and my body is shaking with nervousness, and then my body relaxes.

Once I open my eyes I find myself in a hospital room. I could tell that my parents couldn't stand looking at my bruised face because they would only look at me for so long. I could feel my eye sockets getting deeper and darker. The pain was still there no matter how much medication the doctors gave me. I knew that I was dying yet they never brought it up, probably because no one likes to talk about death.