Unlikely Harmonization

Big Lies, Big Trucks

Byron's POV

I slam my elbow back at the man who grabbed the back of my shirt, landing efficiently in his chest. He stumbles back a few feet and I kick at him, landing a hit on his stomach. I slam my feet into the ground and run as fast as I can. I dash through the building, all the way out the front door, avoiding answering any questions from another human being.

I run down the dirty, calm road. The leaves seem to laugh at me as the wind blows through them. My legs begin to burn. I feel my shoes pound on the packed dirt and the dust being kicked up into my jeans. The trees moan in the wind as my heart begins to pound harder and harder.

I see a small church up ahead, the top of it jutting into the sky like a sword. I run up to the dark gray cement of the stairs, slowing once I reach them. I sit down on the second to bottom step and put my head in my hands. My eyes begin to burn as hot as my legs, lungs, and heart. The hot, salty tears stream down my face and onto the ground.

My arms begin to shake and I feel as if my heart is exploding inside of my own chest. I will the tears to stop and wipe my tears on my shirt. I hate this place. I hate the boys in that stupid house.

Why would they even do something as mean as that? What did I ever do to them? I have been nice, kind, polite, everything I could think of to avoid this exact thing happening.

Dear God, I know I don't do this often, but I need you to hear me. Send me a sign that I need to live. Send me a sign of happiness, of hope. Amen.

I hear a noise and look up only to see the horde of people that I most despise on their way down the road. Probably sent to retrieve me. All I am around here is a nuisance. I stand up, straighten my back, and square my shoulders.

"What do you want now?" I say, in the strongest voice I can possibly manage. My sadness is quickly replaced by anger. They don't respond. I begin to back up, slowly, as they near me.

"We just wanna talk." One of them near the front, short brown hair, freckles, and a blue hoodie, says, fake smiling. A flash of blue, one of the metal baseball bats they use for recreation, hits one of the jock's hands. My mind races, heart faster than before, and my blood fills with adrenaline.

Are they going to kill me? With a baseball bat? No, they aren't. I turn around and run, knowing that the main road isn't too far. I hear them begin to run behind me. I increase my pace and nearly make it to the main road. I turn around, seeing that they're nearly at me.

"Come back, you stupid kid! We aren't going to hurt you!" The one up front says, his eyes beginning to show actual emotion. I keep backing up. I won't, can't, let them beat me to death with a baseball bat. I hear a horn beep, turn to my right, and see an eighteen wheeler coming my way.

Time to decide, Byron. Take the risk of being beaten to death, or end it quickly here, now, with this big truck. My mind screams at me to move. I'm paralyzed. I can't move. I want to, but I can't. I look up to see the panic stricken face of the woman driving the truck. I dive forward, doing my best to get out of the way.