18 Years

"Almost" Standing Up

Sebastian

You have to stand up for yourself.

        Well that's really hard for me. People may say I've been through a lot, so I should know that I should stand up for myself. Sure, I've done a lot. I've met Rosa Parks, I served in the Korean War. But none of that matters to anyone else. Like any high schooler cares about that type of stuff? These thoughts were swirling in my head as I was taking a walk through downtown.
         I usually take walks here, preferably at night. I like to watch the neon signs flicker, or see young couples licking an ice cream cone. As I was walking back home, I tried to pass The Alley without being noticed. "The Alley," capital T and capital A, is a place I avoid a lot. The Alley is where Clyde and Wolfie's friends hang out. They drink, smoke pot, fight, and just stir up trouble. I try to stay away from them, at home and at school. It's just common sense.
        I tried to cross without being noticed. I almost was around the corner when Clyde pointed at me. Oh no. Before I could even process what was happening, someone kicked me right in the shin. I felt someone strong push my chest, and I was on the ground. My pants were splattered with mud, and so were my shoes. Two big seniors hovered over me, ready to deliver their next blow. Instead, to my surprise one lifted me up by the collar of my shirt. I saw Clyde, and I saw something I never expected.
          True hurt flashed across his face. His expression was different than the time he flipped me off in the hallway at school. No, this was something totally different. I made eye contact with him just as I was being pushed into a door on the side of the building. My hands smacked down on cold tile floor. Fluorescent light blinded my sight, and I felt someone hit me. I could feel myself losing control. I couldn't take this anymore. My face, my arms, my everything was becoming hot. I looked down at my wrists. Two thick, nasty looking bracelets encircled my wrists. But they weren't bracelets, it was indeed my searing flesh. I cried out in agony. I screamed something out, hoping for someone to hear me. I could feel the two guys let go of me. Their footsteps echoed across the room. They ran away from me. From me.
      After I cooled down, Clyde was standing in the doorway. He must have told off those guys. I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. He raised his eyebrows. "So, I didn't know you had the power of Satan, sad boy." He smirked. I corrected him yet again, I am not Satan. "That's some pretty kick ass stuff." Huh? Clyde, calling me kick ass? "I-It hur- hurts to do it," I answered lamely. It really does hurt. I would never want anyone else to experience it. "Please don't tell anyone." I said it in a quiet tone, a secret tone. He answered me, "why shouldn't I?" I closed my eyes. I said he truly has good in him. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted him to know he could be a good person. "Shut the fuck up," was all he said. He pushed me to the tile and walked off. I pressed down on the bruise on my shin. I winced. I dusted off my sweatshirt, stood up, and quickly scampered away from The Alley. I just wanted to go home now.