What if...? || Markhyuck

-x-

[5 years earlier]

[donghyuck]

I slowly lifted the ball after ball, counting slowly to sixty seconds between picking up each of them. We were in the class of twenty-four people, one ball per pair, which gave us twelve balls to warm up, that makes twelve minutes to gather all of them. Another three minutes to see around the hall and an additional ten to fold the volleyball net and close the teacher's office, then three to give the key to the duty room and three to return to the locker room. 

In total thirty-one minutes. 

After that time, there was never anyone else in the locker room and I could change in peace.

Without fear of anybody seeing my beaten body.

I had an hour and a half before the boys from the basketball team started training. It has always been this way. Twice weekly. I felt that I couldn't go on unnoticed forever. In the end, I was pushover from a small age. Pushovers will always attract people who are mentally weaker but with physical strength and rich parents. Especially the slit pushovers.

"You always change last", I heard from inside of changing room when I opened my locker. A shiver went through me. It was Dylan. "We're very interested in what you hide under your shirt, Lee," he added when was very close. He slammed the metal door of my locker, looking at me with a smile. As usual, he was assisted by two of the same doormats as I was. Only with slightly more financial possibilities. I looked at the three of them in horror, taking a few steps back.

"N-nothing" I stammered, cursing myself for that tone. As usual, I didn't improve anything with it. I pushed myself to be the victim. I was weak.

"Come on," Dylan kept coming toward me. Finally, the locerk room's wall rose behind me.

"Give me a rest" I shook head from side to side, feeling tears in my eyes. Often in such moments I wondered if it would always look like this? I'll be humiliated forever, for the rest of my life?

"Undress him, boys," Dylan ordered his two brainless footrests in an brooking noopposition tone.

When they got me, I didn't even protest anymore. At first reflex I started to struggle a bit but then I gave up completely. I was only making the situation worse. They were more agitated, the aggression escalated and the violence left only greater damage on my body. I let them pull off my PE shirt and push me straight to the floor like a punching bag. Who cared? I didn't care anymore. The boys started laughing in triumph over the frail, thin Korean and I was just lying on the floor listening for them to leave.

"You think that what you just did?" I suddenly heard an angry, unknown voice. I glanced at the corner of my eye at Dylan, who got in the way of the tall boy I was familiar with by sight. He played in our basketball team. Sometimes I was sneaking into his team's trainings to watch him play. I was doing homework on the stands and spinning unreal fatasies that someday someone like him would pay attention to me and take care of me so that I wouldn't have to be afraid of anything. That he would take me from my father and make it possible that nobody would ever raise hand at me. 

That nobody would ever hurt me again.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dylan tried to play a big man but his voice was no longer as confident as when he gave his piglets an order to raze me to the ground. The tall blond man in response raised only surprised eyebrows and grabbed the younger by the neck and then pushed with all his strength into the row of lockers that stood on his left. Feeling a little more confident, I sat down against the wall, hugging my arms. I pressed knees tightly to the chest, noticing with surprise that I was shaking.