Chapter 2:

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 As I lay in wait for them to leave I started feel uneasy. Something wasn't right. That's when it hit me.

Literally.

 It seems that someone in the group decided that it would be fun to take his foot and ram it up my stomach. I gasp and curl up in pain. I clenched my sides in a vain attempt to protect myself. Yet another bad move. I start to feel the rain of Nikes and Micheal Jordans pelting down from above. It suddenly acured to me that they were serious. Something changed. Yheir usual threats "Go home fucking homo!" has turned into "Die homo!" Then swiftly and suddenly a hit came straight to my head. I quickly moved my arms to my head to try to stay alive. But as a couple more blows fly up to my skull I start to loose conciousness. I start to feel my body going limp. I try my best to fight this fading into black. Then before I start to slip I hear someone calling out to stop this assault.

<><>~<><>~<><>~<><>~<><>~<><>~<><>~<><>~

 I listen carefully as the bullet like kicks stopped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I didn't recognize this smoothing male voice. I hear the evil chuckling stop.

"I said 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'" the voice said. I start to hear one of Steve's groupies stutter

"W-What does it matter? J-just get lost." I could tell the poor bastard was shaking in his boots. But this comforting but stern voice didn't back down

"It matters cause this is called assault. So why the hell would I get lost?"

 As I struggle to stay awake I cling to every word spoken. The group of boys mummer to themselves, debating weither or not to talk back. Steve speaks up

"Well what if it's just a game we paly? Ever thought about that?"

 I whisper to myself "What kind of game is that then?" As if this voice heard me, he replied my exact words. The group mummering stopped. This smoothing, buttery voice sternly say

"That's what I thought. Now you get lost before I call security."

 As if in an instant they were gone. I hear the crunch of the snow getting closer. I feel a hand come up to my face, this hand was large and warm. I slowly look up to see who my savior was. He was a handsome boy. He looked about 17 or 18, he had wind swept hair that looked like golden silk, and his eyes were as deep as a crystal blue lake. He asks me

"Are you okay?" I only managed to reply

"Thank...you." Then I finally gave into the unconciousness.

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