Dreamworld

Bullied Boy

Bullied Boy

The bell rings, and I stand up from my seat in the back, making my way out into the crowded hallway.  I walk to the side, trying to get to my locker on the other side of school.  I barely dodge a few other students who were being shoved or slammed into their lockers, when I come to the hallway I need.  I start to walk down the smaller, empty hall to put my things away for my next period, when I see a boy run down the hallway, and into an unused corridor.  He had medium length, dyed, jet-black hair, and was wearing black jeans and a hoodie.  There wasn’t anyone down the hallway that he just went down, but I had a feeling there was somewhere.

Once I finally decide to follow him to see why he was running, I look around to make sure the hallways were empty, and everyone was in class.  Walking down the broken path, I notice the empty classrooms are falling in on each other.  I wonder why anyone would want to come here, and realize that it’s dark and creepy, and not many people like that.  I don’t get why he came here, and I can’t find him.  I start to feel like I’ve looked everywhere for the nameless boy, to no avail.  As I turn to go back, I notice a ladder that was the old fire escape, going all the way up the crumbling school building.

I suddenly know exactly where he is, and how dangerous it could be for anyone to be there, but I climb up onto the platform anyway.  I start pulling myself up the ladder, trying to be as quiet as possible, and manage to get a glimpse of him.  He has his sleeves pulled up, and is attempting to clean up several scratches and cuts on his arms.  There was a bruise forming under his right eye, and his lip was bleeding.  I begin to understand why he was running, someone was chasing him.

I’m secretly watching him treat his injuries, and dust off his clothes, when he looks in my direction.  I freeze, hoping that my little hiding spot wasn’t visible to him, and held my breath.  He sighs, and stands up.  Walking to the other side of the roof, he dangles his feet over the edge, and sits there letting the breeze blow around his perfectly straight hair.

I want to go over to him, but we don’t know each other.  I make a mental note to speak with him sometime, when I realize we have French class together.  I could ask to partner up with him when we have projects, considering that neither of us ever chooses anybody, and just end up doing them alone.  I just need to figure out a way to speak with him.

I slowly make my way back down the ladder, and head to my next class, when I realize he didn’t follow me after I left.  I worry, but eventually put it out of my mind to do my work.  The next day I’m going to make sure that we talk at least once in class, and that I follow him to see who was bothering him.

The Next Day

I walk into the bare classroom, and sit at my usual seat in the back.  I wait until the boy comes in, and the roll was taken; His name is Dylan.  I ask the teacher while we are doing our busy work when the next partner project is.  She tells me it is the following Wednesday, and I ask for Dylan to be my partner.  She's surprised I asked for someone, but more at who I chose.

I walk back to my seat when she dismisses me, and finish my work.  I get up, go, sit next to him, and say hi.  We start talking, and I mention the project.  He thinks it is a joke, but after I explain it’s not, he reluctantly agrees.  I smile, and ask what classes he has.  He tells me French, of course, Art, and Algebra 1 with a free period second block.  That would explain him not following me yesterday.  I ask when his lunch is, and he says he has C lunch, which, if you didn’t know, is the last lunch of the day.  I laugh, and say I have C, too.  I ask if he wants to talk during lunch later, and he says sure.

After the bell rings, we say bye, and I slowly follow him out the door.  He winds his way through the crowd, avoiding any predicaments, and finds his locker down the same row as mine.  I'm waiting a few minutes before I walk up to mine, so as not to seem like I was following him, when a couple of guys that look to be football players, walk up behind him, and push him into his locker.

I gasp, and back up to a safe spot to watch without being caught.  There are three juniors, maybe 6’4 average, and are very well built for boys their age.   The one in the middle, obviously the leader, knocks Dylan’s books out of his hands, and kicks them across the hallway.  That must have done damage to them.  One of the side goons grabs Dylan’s jacket, and heaves him up into the air, and drops him down.  The other laughs, and kicks him in the gut.  This is so painful to watch, but it must be even more so to endure it.

While the group is laughing their behinds off, I sit my books down, and walk around the corner.  I yell at them, telling them to go kick each other where the sun doesn’t shine.  The leader coughs, and the other two stops beating Dylan.  They both come barreling toward me, and one knocks me down, while the other holds me.

The leader then comes up and says, “You have no business telling us what to do.”, and turns around, only to find Dylan has run away.

I sigh, and tell them to kiss it, kicking the nearest one in the shins.  I get up, stick out my tongue, and run to where I know Dylan is.  I know they are too stupid to follow, though.  I run down the hallway, and turn a sharp corner, hiding until they pass by.  I go to the other side of the building, and climb the ladder leading to the roof.  I peak over the side, and there he is.

There are tears streaming down his face, and marks all over his body.  He doesn’t nurse them this time though, he just adds to it.  I stare in horror as I watch him, and eventually lose my grip on the ladder rung, slipping down a few notches.

I hear him get up and ask, “Who’s out there?”, but I cling to the rails in hopes he wouldn’t look over the side.

I hear footsteps leading to the edge of the roof, but not to where I am.  I get back up, and peer over the edge once more.  I see him sitting on the far side again, just letting his legs hang over.  I finally get enough courage to climb onto the roof, and I slowly make my way towards him, stopping a few feet behind where he's sitting.  I stand there for a while, hoping he will turn around, but he never does.  I edgily walk up beside him, and sit down.

I look out over the horizon, and see as far as I could.  The plain grass field we use for football in gym, the baseball field and bleachers, a house next to a barn and silo, cows grazing in the pastures, it is all a very compact sight, but is beautiful.  It might not be much, but it is a nice place to be.  I smile, and laugh.  He just looks at me sideways, and then back down.  I stop, and glance at him.

Clearing my throat, I say, “This is a really nice view, huh?”  He just nods in agreement, and I look down.

“Dylan?”  I ask, knowing this isn’t going to be easy.

“W-what?” He says, choking on the fact he just spoke to me.

“…W-why?” I question, and turn my head to face him, making sure he sees me this time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He simply responds.

“Fine, don’t tell me, just know that I’ll be here if you need me.”  I whisper, and make like I am going to get up and leave.  He grabs my arm, and pulls, saying “please” over and over.

“What?” I ask, confused as to why he wasn’t letting me go.

“Please, don’t leave me alone.” He says, sobbing.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” I say, and sit back down, draping my arm around his shoulder.  He leans closer, I lay my head on his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around my waist.

“I won’t leave you. Never…Just, please, don’t leave me?” I whisper.

“Forever.” Was all he said, and then, his lips met mine.