Turnabout Flashback

Chapter One:

October of 2001

Justice Elementary School

Grade 4 Class

"I... I didn't do it!"

Phoenix's desperate cry rang through the room before an onslaught of insults bit back at him. Why didn't anyone understand? He didn't do it. He wasn't a thief. He was telling the truth. So why was everyone calling him a liar?

"Guilty!"

"He did it!"

"Guilty!"

"It was you!"

"Thief!"

"Just admit you did it!"

"You're a meanie!"

The small boy cowered behind a desk, confused. Why didn't anyone believe him? He didn't take that student's lunch money! Everyone was shouting at him, each harsh word ringing in his ears.

"Just tell us that you did it!"

"You're a thief!"

"You're a liar!"

"You can't hide the truth!"

"If you don't tell us, we won't let you have a turn on the swings!"

"Nobody play with him!"

He was too scared to confront each statement. Everyone was against him; even the teacher! He was fighting a losing battle... there was no point in continuing any longer.

But, he didn't want to apologize for something he never did! Just because he caught a cold and was in the office during P.E. class doesn't mean that he stole the money!

The young Phoenix was stumped. He didn't know what to say, what to do, and what to think. Every biting remark really did bite him; it hurt so much. He felt so sad... the small boy couldn't stop crying.

He never really had any friends to start with; the spiky haired boy was always alone during lunch, and played on the swings by himself until someone kicked him off. Every day during recess he would sit under this huge tree and watch the other children frolic around together, not paying the slightest attention to Phoenix. He would listen to the happy laughter that rang across the field, kids talking to each other, sharing cookies with each other, walking around with each other.

But the key word was "each other". Phoenix was just himself, just Phoenix, just him. There was no "each other" for him.

He had a loving mother at home, but that was at home. At school, he was always alone, alone, alone. Every day he sat under the great tree, sitting by himself in his own lonely despair. And he was like this every single day.

Now things were worse. Everyone seemed to hate him at the bottom of their hearts, and they were never going to be his friends, ever. It felt so sad, so unfair to be rejected by everyone. Everyone in the world, it seemed. No one cared for him, no one loved him, no one appreciated his presence. It just... felt so unfair. Why was the world so unfair?

Why did no one care for him? Why did no one love him? He had never told his mother in fear of making her worried, but there were so many times, so so many times when he wanted to tell someone, to tell anyone but himself. He had tried to talk to a colony of ants in his backyard, some blades of grass, and his favorite little pin. It was circular, gold in colour, and about the size of a hazelnut. To the common person, it was just a piece of cheap plastic, but to Phoenix it was everything. He wasn't sure why, though.