The Wild Escape

Part 2- Finally a Friend?

The next day of school was just like every other day... until lunch time. At lunch, I would normally sit alone with my earbuds in, writing poetry. The only thing I eat is usually just a tiny serving of fruit. Today at lunch was just like that until...
          "Hi, Katrina. You look lonely. Do you mind if I sit here with you?" some random kid asked me when he approached my table, holding a lunch tray. The kid was dressed in a My Chemical Romance shirt and all black clothes, just like I was.
          I had no idea someone would actually be this nice to me... I paused my music, took my earbuds out, and put them, my phone, and my poetry notebook away into my backpack. "Sure, I don't mind," I answered.
          The kid sat down next to me and said, "Thank you. I appreciate it."
          "It's no problem. I'm just not used to having anyone sit with me during lunch," I said.
          "Me, neither. But then I saw someone else, you, sitting alone, and I noticed your MCR shirt. I thought to myself, 'I love that band, too. They might be a good friend,' so I came over."
          "That's really cool. Thank you."
          "You're welcome. Thank you for letting me sit here. I'm Sam, by the way."
          "Nice to meet you, Sam. How do you know my name?"
          "I know it because I recognized you when others would call your name to you... in the worst ways, unfortunately. I would like to be your friend."
          Nothing but an unusual rush of validity and safety came along. "Oh. Well, okay. I'd love to be your friend, too. This is an amazing feeling. But I'm also like... no way."
          "Actually, yes way. Because, Gerard and Mikey Way," Sam laughed brightly.
          I laughed along. "You're right. Always a yes to My Chemical Romance."

For the next few minutes, we laughed at his joke together. This is the perfect getaway from the darkness nagging on the edge of my mind. After those few minutes, I stopped laughing and started remembering that darkness, frowning at the floor.
          Sam stopped laughing, too, and noticed my face. "A-are you okay? What's wrong?" I looked up at his face, which was red with concern.
          "Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong," I lied.
          "Come on, Katrina. I can tell that something is wrong. It's okay for you to tell me."
          I had never felt so... strange in the best way before. He can read my mind, almost. He looked so honest, so I couldn't help but give in: "Alright, fine. I'll tell you."
          "Okay. What is it?"
          I took a deep breath in and out, then started to explain my whole life story. I told him everything from how Keeley was my only friend, how I got diagnosed with depression after she left for college, and how my parents mentally abuse me with those wars of words over what I wear and the music I listen to that helps me through my depression, to how other kids either bully me for that same reason or just flat-out ignore me. "I feel like I'm not good enough for anyone here. If only my sister were physically here with me right now, I would have one person who'll accept me for who I am. I don't want to have to try so hard for people who'll bring me down. I cry myself to sleep over it."
          At the end of my rant, I noticed tears starting to form in Sam's eyes. He placed his hand on my wrist and said, "I'm so sorry. I go through some of the same things. None of us should have to go through that. Unfortunately, my parents get physical with their abuse." As he said that, he reluctantly pulled up the sleeve of the hand that was on my wrist, revealing a cut, a fresh scar. He was crying more than before now.
          I gasped in utter horror and shock at the sight. I almost cried along with him, too. "Sam, please don't do that to yourself. You are an amazing person the way you are. Oh gosh, what made you do this?"
          "My family. I happen to have bruises on my upper arms and on my legs, and they're from my parents, who hit me and break out the belts to hurt me. They do it for the same reasons your parents mentally abuse you, too. On top of that, I have another thing I need to hide from them. They talk down the LGBTQ+ community all the time, and I happen to be pansexual," Sam replied, putting his head down in his arms on the table.
          All I want to do is hug him right now. Unfortunately, that's not allowed in school because "it's PDA." Yeah, like publicly showing support and appreciation for someone who's crying and going through a rough time at home is inappropriate for school...

All I said was, "I'm so sorry, Sam. I support you, and I'm here for you whenever you need a friend or anything else."
          Sam lifted his head from the table and smiled. "Thank you so much, Katrina. You're one of the greatest friends a kid could ever have," he said, wiping away tears.
          "Wow... so are you. This is all I've ever wanted to hear from anyone," I said, not crying anymore. "Thank YOU so much."
          The two of us then continued to eat, talking about simple things to get to know each other. It turns out that we both sing and play guitar (the only difference is that I play electric and he plays acoustic). We both love and listen to the same bands, and those bands continually save our lives. Two kids who are both from dysfunctional families are uniting in friendship and fighting off our darkness together.

Little did we know, the table of homophobic jerks, which includes Travis, Trevor, and the notorious Julia Clark, was eavesdropping on mine and Sam's deep conversation. We only realized that the moment the group walked over and invaded our table. Led by Julia Clark (who claims she's all religious and that she loves God, but is still extremely mean and homophobic), the mob stormed mine and Sam's table with hurtful words.
           "You BABIES! Why were you two crying so hard to each other? It's so annoying to see you whine about every little thing. You two are NOT a good match," Julia said.
          "Listening to those bands, especially when you two KIDS are enforcing it and backing it up TOGETHER, will send you to the depths of hell!" Travis shouted.
          "Plus, they're just bands. It's not like they can truly help you or save your life. Seriously, get over it. There is nothing to cry about! Stupid kids," Trevor added.
          "You don't want to meet them, either. They promote bad things. They're the ones making you this sad! You're never gonna be good enough for anything or anyone," Julia snapped.
          "Guys, you have no idea what both of us go through at home. I'd rather not discuss it, but I'm just saying. We have a good, legit reason to be sad. It's NOT because of My Chemical Romance," I mumbled.
          "Yeah, right. Keep on ranting and crying. You'll regret listening to that band sooner or later," Julia sassed.
          I'm not offended by them anymore. I can no longer care about what they say or think. I at least can't let them see that what they say hurts.
         "Seriously, though. Please leave us alone!" Sam exclaimed.
         "Not until you change your ways and turn to God! You guys will go to hell and BURN!" a different kid in the group, Greyson Tremson, said as he punch both me and Sam in our faces at the same time. That hurt, but their words hurt even more. Greyson pushed me out of my chair, and then he pushed Sam out of his. Finally, the group walked back to their table.

Sam and I picked ourselves up off the ground, and then continued to mind our own business for the next five minutes until lunch ended. We became even better friends, after encouraging each other to be strong after the attack. We then walked to our individual classes, promising each other that we'd sit together at lunch tomorrow.