It

There is two of It. One is the, It I am now. The other is the It I was. I stare at It as it falls to the ground. Hands from behind are the cause of it. It keeps falling, falling, falling. SMACK. Red now drips from It's nose. Laughter fills the air around It. It doesn't stand up. It just lies there as the bullies kick. I hear It's small voice mumble "Stop please." I can't stand it. Why doesn't It stand? Why doesn't it shout? Anger fills my whole body I shout for It "SPEAK UP!" no one hears a peep out of me, but I will make them I will make It hear me "IT I WANT YOU TO HEAR ME. YOU NEED TO HEAR ME! STAND UP!" there's not even a flinch to the sound of my voice. No one can hear me, not even It can hear me. They can't hear me because you can't hear the dead.
(by the way It is male)