Loving Kiera

6| Outcasts

Kiera

There was the girl whose seat I occupied yesterday, the girl I hurried away from, being shoved against the wall as students gathered and hurled insults at her.

"Geek." Someone spat. "Loser."

She said nothing, tears streaming down her face at their unholy words, and somebody pushed her to the ground.

"Please!" She begged, crying. Everyone laughed, satisfied in watching her suffer.

I was confused. What the fuck was going on? Why wasn't she doing anything? Why were they all cheering? Why wasn't she fighting back?

I stepped forward in a rush, anger boiling thickly in my blood. I pushed her captor away from her in my fury, and I didn't even feel self-conscious as I reached out my hand for her to take, to help her up from her position;

The floor.

She stared at my hand, shocked, bewildered, scares and untrusting.

Untrusting, that was what hurt me the most. Knowing that she had given up trusting in people, knowing that she had planted deeply inside her that people could avail themselves and put on a facade as if they want to help you, but turn you down at the last minute. She watched me as if I would retrieve my hand if she reached out to me.

I've been hurt so many times, and I understood her pain so well. So, I reached further and clasped my hand around hers, then pulled her up to her feet.

"What the heck is wrong with all of you?!" I screamed at the onlooking students, eyes blazing. They all stared back at me,eyes narrowed with judgment and suspicion, wondering who the heck I was to interrupt their business.

"Who the hell are you?" A fat guy sneered with disgust. "Get lost!"

"Yeah, and let me show you the gym on my way out!" I retorted.

"You're a geek, just like her!" Another voice sneered from the crowd.

"Yeah. Overalls and glasses. How typical." Chimed another voice.

That was when it settled in my mind, and the scared and guilty look on the dark girl's face confirmed my suspicion.

Bullying.

They bullied her, and because I've tried standing up for her, they're taking it out on me too.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her trembling body away from the mean crowd, marching past my locker and into an empty class.

"What is going on?" Frustrated, I shouted at her. I don't know if that was the best approach in dealing with an already shaken girl, but I was so done."Why weren't you trying to defend yourself?"

"What's the use?" She retorted back as hotly. Oh, so she knew how to talk. "What's the use whether I defend myself or not?"

I was getting confused here. "What do you mean 'what's the use?'" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

"What I mean is, there is no use fighting them! Nothing's gonna change! Not even if I report to the Principal, the teachers, or any authority at all. It only gets worse." Tears were streaming down her face uncontrollably now. "And now, you've made your own life miserable, because you stood up for me." She looked like she was gasping for breath as she tried to explain. "They'll tag you as the other geek who stood up for the loser. They'll torment you until you can't take it anymore. They'll bully you. And the thing is, you can't stop them, because you're alone in this. No one would want to get close to you, because they'll think you carry a contagious social disgrace. That's the meaning, and I'm so sorry."

I was so numb, so still, unable to talk. The reality of my actions earlier kicked in.

At first, all I wanted was to blend in, but now, I'm standing out, because I revealed myself.

Now, every eye is honed in on me; calculating, searching and judging. And soon, my life would be made as worse as the Afro-american before me.

This was why she sat so far away from everybody at the cafeteria, because she was considered an outcast. And that day, I ran away from her, scared of any interaction with anybody at all, not knowing that maybe, just maybe, she had wanted me to stay with her.

My emotions ran wild, overlapping each other. Heartbreak, pain, anger, sadness, helplessness. I didn't know what to do.

She didn't either. She just stood and cried, her eyes pleading with me for forgiveness. She thought this was her fault. She thought it was her fault that this fate has befallen me, and I felt a different sort of emotion washing over me as I watched her weeping and trembling little figure.

She thought I would slam her against the wall, scream at her and blame her, slap her, maybe. She was expecting those, because when I raised my hands, she visibly flinched in reflex, only I wasn't one of those bullies who hurt her every single day.

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug.

It was official. Now, we were both the school's outcasts.

Bullying would always be our portion.

Shane

3 A.M. The air was chilly as I stepped out of the house into the early morning outside.

I inserted my airpods into my ears, blasting music, and sprinted off in a run.

It was a daily routine; sprinting every morning. It was freedom; the ability to run wild in the almost empty streets, the rush of wind against my face, the surge of energy as my feet flew over the ground.

It was a bonus to listen to music, the beat making my spirit sour into oblivion.

I tried to drown my thoughts in the music and the rush. I succeeded in forgetting my father, my mother, my brother and friends. But not Kiera. She was always there, at the back of my mind.

It was torturous.

Why do I feel like I can't face her anymore? This was so insane. I could just tell her that my battery died, and I didn't see her calls. I doubt if she would buy it, but it was worth a shot.

I felt so frustrated as I cut from the street to the familiar route which led to one of the places I loved most; the woods. My feet thudded against soft leaves on soft grounds.

I wanted to groan out from the frustration. I was so angry at myself, because even though if it was to be someone else, I could've lied, or would've known it wouldn't be a big deal. With Kiera, I knew it at the back of my head that I hurt her. Very much.

We were doing so okay. I punched my god-damned number in her phone, saying my contact with a name that I knew would make her roll her eyes and scoff, then laugh. Yet she called, and I didn't even pick up.

Way to be a jerk.

She was alone, because her dad was at work. What if she needed something? What if someone broke into their house and hurt her? I swear to God, if anyone touched her, I would-

I couldn't continue my thoughts.

***anddd that's a wrap!

Vote, comment and add this story to your reading lists.

Thank you so much for reading.

See you next chapter.

Ann out. ;)