Emit Gray and Eli James

Emitt Gray with Eli James

It's beginning as per usual, just another foggy afternoon I'm spending laying on the floor being punched by the schools favourite jock, I feel my face go numb and my right arm go limp. I've always been Emitt Gray's favourite punching bag. Well since I transferred to this school at least, but never once have I retaliated. Not because I like the pain or anything, or secretly Emitt for that matter. No. It's because I deserve it, every kick, every flailing fist directed at me.

I've never been the popular guy, the cute nerd, the jock, the straight A honour student. I've just always been the small, thin, weird kid who's probably gay, and that's reason enough to be thrown on the ground at the end of every day and beaten til I can't remember who I am (which is probably a good thing anyway).

Emitts fists of fury are still raining down on me like a hailstorm the size of small buffalos, until my head snaps forward in his grasp and my light brown hair pulled into a tuft above my eyes. His raspy breath making my skin crawl "see you tomorrow Eli" he spits before throwing my now limp body against the cold brick wall surrounding the old oval. I sit in silence for a minute trying to gain the strength to get up and go home. My body sprawled across the faded brick and my left leg contorted into an odd position. I stretch my arm and meekly grab a ladder rut that sits just above my head.

I use all my strength (well the very little Emitt left me with) to haul myself up onto my feet. My left leg suddenly turns to jelly and I am once again crashing towards the ground. I summon all my might to try again, This time successfully making it onto my feet. I direct all my concentration to staying up and slowly hobble over to the apartment block located a few roads down that I have been carelessly discarded in. I cautiously enter the lift and ride it up to the third floor.

* * *

The next few weeks continue the same: I wake up, eat, get dressed, go to school, get beaten up, return home, go to sleep, wake up, eat, get dressed, go to school, get beaten up, return home, go to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. Until today the last Friday of term where I am sitting at the usual spot awaiting my daily dose of Emitt. I sit in silence for around a minute until I finally realise that Emitt won't be coming today. Today is the schools final match between the rivalling college and Emitt, being the star shooter, will be front and centre at the game. Deciding to show my school spirit (of which I have very little) I waltz over to the new football field, scratching my wrist until I draw blood a few times forgood measure. As I turn the corner the chants and cheers come into perfect earshot as I near the game. I manage to wiggle through the crowd and find a vacant seat in the front, usually vacant since the football team likes to spit a lot, I sit down and look towards the field. Wondering what I've missed I lean over to a stumpy, ginger girl wearing braids and a cropped tee to ask her, "there's about two minutes left and we only need one more goal to win" she replies with a thick Scottish accent. I turn my attention back to the game and spot Emitt exactly where I thought he would be, centre of attention.

Majority of the crowd were now cheering Emitts name, and personally having nothing against the guy, I decide to join in. I scream Emitts name at the top of my lungs just as he weaves through the opposing teams guard. Emitt immediately turns to face me, mouth dropping open in shock, as if the only noise he could hear amongst all the grunting and cheering was my voice. He trips on the ball and tumbles face first onto the ground caking his uniform in mud. Did he hear me? Don't be daft. A few snickers and giggles can be heard from the opposition supporters and a collective gasp from our side. The whistle blows as the dark haired, well built shooter from the college team scores their last point.

The crowd erupts into a mixture of roars and boos.

Emitt picks himself up, brushes the mud of his jersey, and slowly jogs towards the sideline to meet a man I presume is his father. As curious as I am I remove myself from my seat and follow Emitt towards the now heated looking argument. I slide in behind a large oak tree just a few meters away so I can listen without being seen. " you worthless piece of shit, what was that?!?" The older man bellowed "if I knew you played like a girl I would've paid for your sister to play instead of you" Emitt looks somehow expressionless but I can still see how cold yet sad he is. "I'm sorry dad, it wasn't my fault it was that usel-" he paused and sighed as if knowing he wouldn't win "excuses, excuses, that's all you fucken are, an excuse" the mans voice now loud enough to break a fine glass.