Battered and Bruised

I deserve to be treated like this

I wake up by the sore all over my body. I can't sleep last night cause my head hurt so much and I feel pain in my stomach. Get up from bed, I walk toward the bathroom and get ready for school. The clock shows 7 am. I need to get ready soon so I'm not late for school.

My grandpa was reading the newspaper when I walked down the stairs.

"Morning, grandpa. What are you reading?" I stand behind him to see what he was reading.

"Morning. A group of boys robbed a store last night." He shows me the article.

"Really?" I ask him and begin to read the article.

"Yeah. I think you're at the same age. Maybe you know some of them. Or maybe some of your schoolmates."

"No, how would I know them?" I take a look at the picture and I see the guys from last night. "I think they went to Patrick's last night."

"They did?" he asks like he didn't believe me.

"Yeah" I answer him as I grab an apple from the counter. "I gotta go, grandpa"

"Careful, Eileen. Have a nice day at school."

I wish I'll have a nice day.

"Okay. Love you." I left the house and begin to walk down the street heading to school.

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The time passes slowly. But, thankfully, I'm in the last period right now. My history teacher was explaining when someone knocked on the door.

"Good afternoon, sir." The boy with a beautiful nose greeting our history teacher.

"You're late, Mr. Prescott."

"I'm so sorry, sir, it won't happen again." The boy I assume as Mr. Prescott smirks.

"You say that before." He removes his glasses. "Come in, Mr. Prescott, we have to continue our lesson."

"Thank you, sir" the boy aka Prescott walks in then sits beside me. "Hey, you again." He grins at me.

I give him my usual flat face then turn my head ahead.

A few minutes later, I feel disturbed cause he's unrelentingly stomping his foot.

"Can you stop that?" I ask him without turning my head toward him.

"Stop what?" he turns his body toward me.

"That" pointing my pen to his foot.

"What's wrong with my foot?"

"Stop stomping" I still haven't look at him.

"Is this disturbing you?" he asks. I nod my head up and down. "Why didn't you say something? I haven't heard you speak more than 4 words."

I answer, "why would I say something?"

"You tell me" he puts his elbow behind my chair.

"Mr. Prescott, I believe Ms. Harper didn't want you to bother her." Thanks to my teacher, I love you, sir.

The boy beside me turns his body ahead.

"What's your name?" he asks me.

"You don't want to know."

"You sure about that?" he answers immediately.

I ignore him. I know he just wants a person to be his next victim. And I absolutely don't want to be that person.

"You didn't answer me." He turns his head toward me.

"I did"

"Okay, if that's what you want." He adds, "I will find my way to know your name."