Short Stories

The Outsider

  The girl curled into herself in a ball, her knees clutched tightly into her chest as salty tears stained her face. The onslaught of words refused to stop, flowing eagerly from their mouths. It wouldn't have mattered much if they did. Every taunt was seared into her mind, haunting her eternally. She never had and never will escape these phrases. A tornado of voices ripped the shreds of her sanity away until all she was left with was the repeating echo of the taunts thrown at her by the excited crowd of children.

She couldn't think.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't speak.

She just cried.

  A slight unknown strength filled her from within. Utilising it, she clamped her hands over her ears. The effort was futile though, as she could still hear the cruel lies. They clashed with those locked in her memories, mixing to create a crescendo of hurtful slews and agonising pain. She wanted nothing more than for it all to stop. She wanted the other children to stop treating her like an outsider. She wished she could just fit in.

  "You can't stop listening now," One of the bullies stated, carelessly yanking the defenceless girl to her feet by her hair. "We haven't finished yet!"

  A loud round of cheers swept through the crowd, shattering the girl's heart. They did not care about her at all. She prayed desperately for a teacher to come around to the back of the school and end her torment. She just wanted somebody to end it.

Anybody?  

  A sharp kick is delivered to the sweet spot at the back of her knees. She cries out in pain as she drops to the floor like a discarded piece of rubbish, her hair forcefully pulled from her scalp. The streams of tears become a storm as unbearable pain shoots through her body. Time seems to slow down for the girl as she sees another vicious kick aimed at her. She is powerless to stop it as the sole of the shoe slams into her side. Gasping as the air leaves her lungs like a deflating balloon, she grabs ahold of her already bruised side, hoping against all hope to protect it from another brutal blow.

  Why me? I ask myself, trying to release myself from the pain, even if only momentarily. Is it because I am different? Is it because I am an outsider? Or are they doing it just because they can? I don't know the answers to these. If I am honest with myself, I don't want to know. It doesn't change anything.

  I gulp and my eyes widen when I realise where their next target is. The shoe is inches away from my head and I resist the urge to clench my eyes shut. Suddenly, the children who have been caging me in turn and flee as if their lives depend on it. It takes my frantic, terrified mind a moment to realise why.

My hero has come!

He has saved me again!

My dad has come to pick me up from school.