Borderline Madness

Breaking point

I was shoved roughly to the ground and I cried out as a searing pain shot up my arm. "Nerdy piece of shit!" Kacchan sneered and twisted my arm back even farther and I ground my teeth together to keep from letting out the scream building in my throat. He shoved himself off me pushing my face further into the dirt in the process. Thinking that it was over, I was about to start counting my lucky stars that the beating was so short today, but as he and his buddies watched me slowly get to my feet and wipe the blood off my mouth and onto my sleeve, Kacchan smiled sadistically. He suddenly lunged and kicked me in the stomach causing me to almost double over. He landed a punch at my unprotected face, not that it would have done much good if it was, and sent me sprawling to the ground. Kicks and punches were thrown relentlessly from all sides and I curled up into a ball, protecting my head not so much from the blows but also from their words. They were all vicious, but Kacchan, my childhood friend, was even more so. Finally, they backed away and through teary eyes, I watched them walk off, laughing. This was nothing new. Every day was the same, wake up, say goodbye to my mother, dread going to school and stall until I'm nearly late, get verbally and physically harassed by my classmates, get beat up by Kachan and his friends two to three times on average daily, go home and make up an excuse as to why I looked like shit, my mom believes me, I go to bed with an ache in my chest, can't sleep so I end up alone with my thoughts, I want to die and I silently cry myself to sleep, then repeat. I could have a worse life, but an aching heart hurts worse than a broken bone, and I've broken many, courtesy of Kacchan. I have a loving, though naive and gullible, mother, a roof over my head, food on the table, and a good education which is more than some can say, so I suppose I should be grateful. I'm very grateful for what I have, sometimes I just wish that I had a different life. A better life.

I walk in through my front door, and thankfully my mom isn't there. I sigh and trudge upstairs and take a look at myself in the mirror. I frown at the large mark on my forehead. Kacchan and his friends had circled around my seat as soon as the bell rang keeping me from leaving. Kacchan slammed my head onto my desk before shoving me into the wall and burning various areas of my body. Taking turns they then alternated between dragging and shoving me down the hallway until we reached the side of the school, outside and in the dirt field where today's, and most days's, beatings occurred. I suck in my breath and touch the shallow cut gingerly. I hiss in pain and when I pull away, my fingers are covered in blood. I sigh deeply before getting to work cleaning my wounds and icing my bruises. At least nothing had been broken today. I hear the front door open and go down the small flight of stairs to greet my mother. She gasps as she takes in my bandaged forehead, scraped arms and face, and my split lip. "Izuku! What happened?!" I look down at my feet as I reply. "I fell down a small hill on my way home. The hill to the right of the school." Tears welled up in her eyes as she scolded me. "Please be more careful! I don't want to lose you." "I'm sorry kaa-san, I promise I'll be more careful." She nodded and ruffled my hair with a sigh. "I love you so much, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something ever happened to you." She spoke softly, but her words hit me like a ton of bricks. "I love you too kaa-san." I turned away and hurriedly went up to my room so she wouldn't see the tears glistening in my eyes.