im here // phan

twenty one

trigger warning; word usage. pj's perspective.

School was crowded. Too many kids were bustling around the  hallways, and this was supposed to be a hard school to get into. But basically you had to walk through the doors, ask to come here, take the test (which basically is common sense) and bam. You were in. But I liked to think it made me smart. My parents thought it made me smart, and that was really what mattered. I loved to impress them. Anything I could do to make them happy, I did.

Yesterday, these two new boys were supposed to come. But Ms. White told me one of them was seriously hurt. She also told me they would be back tomorrow, and they would be in all of my classes. I told you, this school is just such a push-over. They gave the two boys all the same classes, and even I have those classes. I hope I like them.

I clutched my books tight to my chest, and walked down the hallway towards my first class. It was chemistry, and I really liked that teacher. But I was super careful walking to this class because there was always a bully around one of the corners. Someone would kick me or shove me over, something. I walked past the normal corner and winced, and them came the bully, shoving me to the floor. I had a hard time keeping a good grip on my books, so my arms released them all over the floor.

"Who wants to kick the PJ?" She asked, no sympathy in her voice what-so-ever. Her whole crew laughed demonically, and I sighed, accepting my fate. I tried to take my glasses off and protect them, but some goth-looking girl kicked my hand, and my glasses went flying. Now, I couldn't see a thing.

"Kick the PJ!" They all chanted, laughing so loud. Where is the damn staff? I could swear the teachers cheered on the bullies! I was kicked again, on my back this time. I let out a yell of pain, and that only made them laugh more.  They just loved to add to the already-present bruises covering my tanned skin. I tried to stand, but I was kicked down from my stomach. I yelped, and again, no body seemed to care. I reached for my chem books, but one guy stepped on my wrist. The laughter filled my ears again, and everything grew even blurrier. I didn't think it could, but it did.

"Is someone gonna help a guy out here?" I cried out, and they all laughed again.

"Poor guy thinks he's getting help! Not this time, mate." The girl said again. She has long, red hair and freckles covering her little nose. At a glance, you would think she was sweet. Oh, no. Every day, she shoves me over and her cronies kicked me.

"Literally no one is doing any-" I was cut off with a kick straight in the mouth. I couldn't even see who it was. I couldn't see my hand in front of me anymore. The blood was gushing out of my nose and mouth, and it was disgusting. I wanted to cry.

"Shut up, fag!" I assume the person who kicked me exclaimed.

"Let's go. We've done enough damage to him for today. See you tomorrow, pussy!" The red-head girl spat, and she walked off with her friends. I tried to stand up, but things started to get white as I did. So, I lay on the dirty school floor, hoping to pass out.

"PJ?" I heard a familiar voice call out. That was none other than the great Chris. My partner in crime, my other half, my best friend.

"Oh, Chris, Chris, help, man, oh..." I stuttered. He ran up to me, and slid my glasses back onto my face.

"Was is that, that girl, whatever her name is?" He asked, assisting me to a standing position. My knees were Jello, so Chris supported all of my weight.

"Yeah, uhm, is it, uhm..." I tried to think, but my brain kind of stopped me from saying anything else.

"You're bleeding waterfalls, man! How can they not notice? I saw you from across the hall!" Chris said, livid he was. That's what I loved about Chris. He could fire me up and I could calm him down. We balanced each other out perfectly.

"Take me, to, to the nurse, or, or the hospital, uhm, which ever, just, medical, attention..." I mumbled. Chris picked me up over his shoulder, and groaned a little. We walked the opposite direction of chem class, so I had a feeling that we were headed to the nurse. I wasn't in my right mind, okay?

------

I woke up on a little nurse bed, gauze shoved up my nose and in my mouth. It made me gag.  Chris was sat across from me in a little plastic chair, way too big for him.

"Finally , you're awake sleepy head." Chris joked, scooting his chair a little closer.

"Surryicentreelyspeekihavdisstofinmemouth." I tried to respond, but it came out as a gibberish word.

"I'll pretend like we have like a best friend connection and I totally understood that, but I didn't." Chris acknowledged, and I giggled. I just nodded and tried to smile, but that gauze choked me. I decided to take it out, and threw it into the trashcan conveniently placed next to me. It was blood-soaked and disgusting, but Chris didn't seem to mind at all.

"I said sorry I can't speak, I have this in my mouth. But now I don't, so I can speak to you. What did I miss?" I asked.

"It's almost time to go home." Chris answered, shrugging.

"No way!" I exclaimed.

"Yes way. They must have kicked you hard, considering the bruising all over your face, back and stomach." Chris disclosed, and I pulled my shirt up and looked at my stomach. It had a brown-blue bruise covering almost a quarter of my stomach.

"Wow, uhm..." I started. Chris sighed.

"They can't leave you alone, can they?" Chris implied.

"Let's just hope those two new guys take a liking to me."