The Anatomy of a Parody Heart

the park

Blood.

Strong, and bittersweet.

The taste of it fills Enzo's mouth.

It tastes like Death.

They stand over him. All five of them. Tyler, Jason, Mark, Harvey, and Ryan.

Ryan.

Enzo swallows. Painfully.

"What do you want?"

"So this is where you've been scurrying off to, every night." Tyler leans towards him. "Right little rat's nest, isn't it? Suits you."

Enzo doesn't reply. He knows his blank expression irritates them. He doesn't want to irritate them.

He looks away.

"Cat got your tongue, freak?" Ryan grabs the swing chain. Yanks Enzo closer. "Look at him - shaking like a baby! Scared, Enzo?"

Enzo flinches. He can't stop himself. "Don't call me that."

"What? Don't call you what? Freak?"

Enzo shakes his head.

Shaking. Still shaking.

Clenches his jaw.

Ryan lets go of him. Laughs. "There's something seriously messed up with you, man. God - I can't believe I ever thought you were my friend."

Enzo doesn't respond. They are trying to wind him up. Trying to hurt him.

And I won't let them.

"Did you know that your stupid excuse for a sister landed herself in detention the other day? Today, to be precise. For trying to knock out my brother? My brother?" Harvey plonks himself down on the swing next to Enzo. Grins. "Don't know what she thought she was up to. I've seen moneyless wimps with more spunk than her. Oh, wait."

The boys laugh.

Enzo watches them in silence. Hatred burns within him. It is the only emotion that he has ever really come to close to feeling, and even then, it is nothing but a slight bruising on the edge of his consciousness - a red tinge that brings a weird ache into his gut, the taste of blood into his mouth.

He swallows again.

"And as for your mother - well she gives you a right run for your money, doesn't she - if you pardon the pun. How long until she bolts just like your good-for-nothing father? Took one look at you and scarpered, didn't he? Can't say I blame - Oy!"

Enzo only realises he has stood up when Tyler backs away from him.

Shaking.

Still shaking.

"One word - say one more word..."

"Alright." Jason raises his hands. Placating him. "Alright, mate, we get it. We - "

A blow thuds into Enzo's chest, and he is thrown back against the swing. Pain leaps through him. He gasps, staggers, steadying himself against the swing, only to feel another punch smash into his jaw, spinning him sideways. He lands, hands and knees, on the tarmac. Coughing blood.

"What the hell, Ryan?"

"We said no blood, remember?"

"What is wrong with you?"

Ryan.

Ryan.

Another burst of pain follows a kick to the stomach, then to the chest. Enzo feels something crack in his ribs. He screams through gritted teeth.

"Ryan - "

"Stop - "

A hand, in his hair, slamming his head back, repeatedly, against the tarmac - again and again and again. A body, heavy and sore, on top of his, pressing him to the ground.

Screaming.

Blood. More blood.

Enzo rolls, shoving Ryan away from him, hard - as hard as he can.

Then he stumbles to his feet - stumbles to his feet, and runs.

Runs away from there, runs and runs until his legs ache and his chest aches, and blood streams down his face.

Hating them. Hating himself.

Hating everything.