Fly High | ✅

5 | Black and blue

◈A D R I A N◈

I was in my worst mood after yesterday's events. With my all-black outfit paired with a beat-up sneakers, I was exuding a 'Fuck Off' aura as people gave a wide berth around me. Even Coach McCallen who will always find faults on me, kept his mouth shut when I passed by.

I jerked my locker open with a rattle and the stench of dead carcass attacked my nostrils immediately. Stumbling backwards, a dead rat plopped onto the floor with a wet squelch and left a puddle of goo and maggots crawling in my locker. Judging from the stench, it must have been left in my locker for a couple of days.

I heard snickers and suppressed laughters. Without looking, I knew who could have done this sort of pathetic stunt. The football team. Guessed Josh hasn't forgotten about my misplaced sense of humour last Friday.

"Yo, Davies! Didn't know you're acquainted to the rat that you even wore mourning clothes to its funeral," Dan, Josh's wannabe, chuckled while pointing at my 'mourning clothes'.

Half of the team stood circling me like a pack of hyenas with a few cheerleaders crossing their arms, clearly enjoying a little entertainment before class starts. I gritted my teeth and rage burned inside me. This is perfect. I needed to vent out my anger anyway.

"Aww...are you jealous? Don't worry. I'll be dressed to the nines when I attend yours," I cooed at him.

His cheeks tinted red with embarassment and anger. He certainly never expected me to retaliate, especially in front of his team. Glancing over to Josh for his approval, Dan took a threatening step towards me and hissed, refusing to let my retort affect him.

"I'll make sure you meet your end first," his words dripped with menace as he reached out his beefy arm and hooked it around my neck, pulling me to the nearest toilet. The rest of the team trailed behind him while the cheerleaders grumbled, displeased that they couldn't watch the show any longer. Josh did not join in the fun. He had his arm slung over his bitch and strolled away, leaving two jocks to guard at each side of the entrance.

Dan threw me to the ground before landing a kick to my stomach, causing me to roll over in pain. My breath left me in a whoosh and I clutched my torso, curling into a foetal position. Ian and James grabbed onto each of my wrist and pulled me up to my knees, twisted my arms behind and pressing down on my shoulders. My arms were wound so tight they almost popped out of the sockets at the joints. Dan gripped my face hard and tilted it upwards, glaring down at me.

He fisted his palm and threw me an uppercut punch. My teeth bit into my tongue from the impact and I started drooling blood and spit. Refusing to back down, I curled my lips into a snarky smile. Dan's face turned purple from my display of defiance and rained blows after blows on my face.

I slumped to the cold, tiled floor and groaned when Ian and James released their grip. My arms were numb and they hung limply on my sides. James took the liberty to deliver the final blow, stomping hard on my right ankle and grinding them under his soles. Pain shot through my leg and I bit my bottom lip hard till it bled. I will never give them the satisfaction to hear a single sound from me.

Never!

Ian crouched low and fisted my hair, twisting them before taking out a razor blade. The blade glinted from the light streaming through the window panes.

"Next time, think twice before running off that smart mouth of yours," he spat.

✴

Pulling the black hoodie over my head, I slowly gathered my stuff into my bag. There were still classes the next hour but with my current condition, skipping it would be of a much lesser hassle. I'd be forced to explain about what happened and those bastards will have their fists ready to shove down my throat the next minute they see me.

I slung my bag over to the sink and it landed with a thud. Grabbing the edge of the sink, I slowly pulled myself to my feet and put my weight on my left leg. The sharp pain on my right ankle had me wincing when I shifted my weight.

Those motherfuckers!

My whole body ached like a bitch. I sucked in a deep breath and gingerly brushed over my busted lips. I peered at my reflection. The cut was deep and ugly. Black and blue bruises littered on my face and a slim gash under my left eye. Those bastards certainly didn't hold back any punches.

My phone vibrated in my pockets and I quickly fished it out, afraid it will trigger my wounds. I groaned out when I saw the name displayed. Kelly. She was like a leech sucking off my energy and patience. She must have called to pester me about our meeting for discussions today. Pressing the button on the side of the phone long enough, I turned my phone off even if she was going after my head. I've had enough today. I deserved a break.

The door swung open with a creak and I poked my head out. I stumbled out as quietly and as inconspicuously as I could along the hallway and out to the fields, heading to the secret place. I cursed inwardly when I remembered I needed to crawl on my belly to get to the other side.

Upon reaching, I looked over my shoulders to check my surroundings again. Once clear, I carefully lowered my body until I was on my belly and slowly crawled through the hole that I cut through a year ago.

It took almost ten minutes for me to maneuver my body through the hole and away from the sharp edges of the fence. I was sweating profusely when I reached the street from the pain and exhaustion.

The street was crowded with white-collar workers out roaming for lunch. I zipped up my sweater to hide my bloodied shirt and limped my way back home.

"Hey, kid!"

I turned my head and came face-to-face with an old African-American man with salt and pepper hair. He looked concerned and took a few steps closer. I eyed warily at him.

"You alright? You left a trail of blood behind you," he said, pointing towards the bloody drops on the tar.

I looked down and winced when I saw my pant legs soaked with blood. I was sweating so much I didn't noticed the bleeding. I set my jaw in a tight smile and assured the man that I was fine. He looked unconvinced and was about to protest but I quickly walked away without limping to prove my conviction.

When my ankle couldn't hold up anymore, I leaned to the side and palmed against the brick wall, catching my breath. I started seeing double and my head felt like it was floating aimlessly in a vast ocean. Just as I was about to move, a warm, calloused hand clamped over my wrist.

He grabbed my wrist and twisted it painfully, pulling me into a damp alley. I almost stumbled over from the sudden movement and my injured ankle protested. Before I could utter a word, he slammed me hard against the graffitied wall and had his arm pressed against my chest, effectively immobilizing me.

I looked up, ready to give him a piece of my mind when my gray eyes met with forest green ones. It's him! He stared angrily at me and wore a scowl, his forehead creased in the middle into a deep V and spat out.

"You little piece of shit!"

His angry tone had me confused as I racked my brain trying to figure out when I've had offended him. Maybe it was the pain, my head felt fuzzy and clouded as my vision slowly darkened. The last thing I saw was a flicker of concern in his eyes before I slumped to the ground and fainted.

✈

Author's note

Dun dun DUUUNNN!

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