Noah

August 18th 2007

"A tramp. A dirty fucking tramp."

I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, glancing up at the teenagers leering over me.

"What do you think you're looking at?" one of them said.

"You fucking reek." another said. "When was the last time you had a fucking shower?"

I tried to keep calm. I'd been homeless for just over two months, and I was used to a little hostility. However, these teenagers seemed to have no barrier when it came to insulting me for living on the streets. In fact, this was the third time I'd come across this particular group, and I got the impression that they had little else to do with their time than pick on me.

There was usually only two of them, but this time they'd brought a few of their friends along for a laugh. And now they were being more hostile than usual. Perhaps they thought their friends would like them more for bullying me.

"Hey, I asked you a question." one of the newcomers said, kicking me in the legs. "When was the last time you had a shower, tramp?"

I wasn't sure if I should reply. I got the impression that no matter what I said, they would still find a way to be personally offended by it. Nothing I said would ever be good enough for them.

"I don't know." I replied honestly. I wasn't a very good judge of time, truth be told. I never went to school, so I didn't really understand the calendar.

"Are you tryin' to be clever?" one of the girls asked.

"No, really, I-" I started.

"Shut up." one of them cut me off. "I don't wanna hear you talking back to my girlfriend like that, got it?"

"Girlfriend?" I asked, unfamiliar with the word. The guy seemed offended.

"What you trying to say?" he snapped. I wondered if there was really any point in me responding.

"Sounded like she was calling me ugly." the girl said, pouting.

"No, I wasn't..." I started, knowing that there was no point in trying to mount a defence. Then, the girl started fake-crying into her hands. The guy put his arm around her, looking concerned. Like he couldn't see through her lies.

"I... I just have such terrible concerns about my weight and and she..." she trailed off into desperately fake sobs and the guy turned to glare at me.

"You better apologise right now." he said angrily.

"I'm sorry." I said. I'd long learnt that sometimes you just had to accept that people expected an apology, even when you felt you'd done nothing wrong.

"You smug bitch!" he said. Then, he came over to me and grabbed both my arms, hauling me to my feet. He pulled my arms behind my back, leaving my front completely exposed. The girl immediately stopped fake crying, looking sombre.

"What're you doing?" she asked, but I could see the hope on her face.

"Hit her, babe." he said. "I'm not having any tramp talking shit to my girl."

I struggled immediately, very familiar with the word 'hit'. However, I was much younger than the teenager holding me, and significantly smaller.

The girl stepped forward, looking nervous for the others who were watching. However, I could see the smirk forming at the sides of her lips. Whether it was because she was bullied, whether it was because she was self conscious or whether it was because she had a bad life at home didn't matter. I knew she was going to enjoy this.

The first blow landed in my stomach. I hadn't expected her to be able to hit hard (she was barely bigger than me), but I guessed she must've had practise hitting people. She hit me again, harder, and I flinched instinctively.