Broken Promises

Chapter Two

It was lunch time, and so I headed once again -- to the woods.

Our school is situated nearby the forest, forbidden and off-limits to us students. A fence separates our football/soccer field from the gnarly territory that is the woods. So no one goes there, really -- nobody but me.

All you had to do was to scope out the hole in this said barbed fence. And scope it, I did -- I wiggled my way through, wincing at the bit of wire that clung on to my shirt, and headed to the vast, eerie forest.

I plopped down on the grass under a tree, unzipped my bag and took out the ham sandwich I brought with me. Seconds later I was sinking my teeth into the tasty, liking how the cheese mingles with the ham on my tongue. It was delicious, really, despite that it is --yes-- just a plain sandwich. But it sure beats the "cafeteria special" in school. I pondered about my sandwich's savory taste compared to the bland one the school canteen has, then tried to recall the sandwiches I had the past few days: yesterday, a tuna sandwich; the day before that, one with a hotdog in it...

Despite different sandwiches everyday, this was routine: me, here, digging in to some lunch I have with me. But this suited me fine, because had I not found this place and sought refuge in it, I would have to endure -- yet again and again and again -- those vicious bullies finding prey in the weak. I am weak. And so they picked on me every chance they got -- I shouldn't give them any. And so I hung out here, and not unless school authorities catch me here, I am fine -- more than fine. Better than to sit all alone in a cafeteria, at plain sight to those assholes and douches, right?

After my sandwich, I dug out my sketchpad and began to put to "art" the scene before me. I love sketching various sceneries, though I am not quite sure if it is my forte or what -- but I still do it anyway. And so I drew. I wanted to keep at this forever, but I only have thirty minutes to kill before the next class, so I just let the lines and textures and details flow... Until the rustling of leaves had me sitting up in panic.

What could that be?

A ghost?

A snake?

A wild boar?

Some vicious beast on the prowl for humans to devour on?

A solider?

A bully?

A -- goddamn, no -- person of authority in school, ready to single me out and send me into expulsion?

I had no time to think.

I seized my bag and bolted away.

Leaves crunched at my feet as I ran and my lungs were at overdrive as adrenaline rushed in each and every pinnacle of my body. Generally, I am a slow runner, but damn, I was scared as sh*t. Bullies? Leave them be. Alone in a swarm of students? I can manage. But please, please, please dont let me be in peril...

Damn.

No.

I forgot something...

It only took a few seconds to realize...

My sketchpad!!!

I looked back, conforming what I already knew but having no plan to retrieve it back, for I had to scramble off and keep running, far, far away from whatever source the sound came from!

Wait. That wasn't my principal or any of his head members, nor a snake or boar or beast, and certainly not a bully...

"Nice sketch you have here"