Chapter Text
Revenge. It’s such an interesting word. What some call revenge, others call justice. What some may call cruel, others call vengeance. What some may call inhumane, others call payback. It all depends on how you look at it.
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I walked into the school, peering furtively around as I did so. There was no way I wanted them to catch me. Last time I’d had an awful time convincing my mother not to call the police. I was black and blue all over and my lip wouldn’t stop bleeding. They left me alone for a while – they were scared of getting caught – but I’ve recovered now so they’ll be after me anytime. I’ve got my eye out though so as soon as I see them I’m gonna hide. Sometimes having a school uniform and being small has its advantages. I can be pretty nondescript when I like and school is definitely one of those times. I’m not sure why they pick on me; I don’t wear eyeliner or any of my other usual adornments to school so it’s not those. What is it about me that makes people dislike me? What makes me a target? I’m pretty ordinary; I’m a little on the short side – okay, I’m 5’4” – with longish brown hair and hazel eyes. I get average grades and I’m not part of any of the ‘nerdy’ clubs. On the other side, I’m not sporty either. I’m your average Joe Soap. So why do they pick on me?? What makes me any different from any other guy in my class?
I was very nearly safe; I had spent ten seconds at my locker and slipped amongst the crowd. I just had to turn the corner and I’d be there; but they sabotaged me. They grabbed me, leaving bruises where they did so, and dragged me into the boys’ bathroom where they proceeded to reacquaint my face with their fists.
"So you thought you could avoid us, retard? Escape what you deserve?" the ringleader taunted as his minions hit me again and again; their fists pummelling my ribs, stomach, face and chest. "Did you think that mummy had scared us off, eh ugly? Did you think a cock-smoker like you could stop us? You're more stupid than I gave you credit for, dickhead."
I swallowed my thoughts that were threatening to come out of my mouth; waste of semen I hope they die.
"Are you getting angry, fuck face?" Brutus peered at my blood smeared face. "Or are you scared? Are you a pussy that gets his mummy to do the dirty work for him?"
I spat blood at them defiantly. I knew I’d pay for it but I didn’t care. There was nothing else I could do. There was two guys holding my arms, one guarding the door and the ringleader was standing in front of me staring at the blood that I’d just spat onto his shiny, white shoes.
Slowly Brutus lifted his head. He looked me in the eye. I stared back, shaking slightly. Brutus shook is head frighteningly slowly.
“Oh you’re gonna pay for that, fag.”
I could feel sweat trickling down the back of my neck and I swallowed nervously.
“I’m not gay.”
Brutus tilted his head; studying me. “Oh? Who was that guy who you were kissing this weekend then? Eh, fag?” He kicked my feet. “You listenin’, faggot?”
I could feel my anger boiling up inside, threatening to explode.
“I’m not gay,” I replied trying to keep my voice even but I could hear the waver in it and I knew Brutus did too. My anger bubbled up and I let the rage take over me. I suddenly started squirming and wriggling to try and get the thugs to let me go. However, they were stronger than I’d given them credit for and after an initial loosening of their fists, they held on tighter than ever. Brutus laughed cruelly and then his face took on an ugly look and his fist crashed into my jaw. I cried out in pain, causing it to hurt more and I tried to hold my tears back because if they saw me crying they would make it ten times worse. A look of spiteful satisfaction came across his face and he grabbed my hair, dragging me across the room and smashed my head off the edge of the sink. My legs gave out then and my knees thudded to the floor. My ears were ringing and my mouth was full of the metallic taste of blood. My head started swimming and my sight went black.
When I came to, I was sitting in a pool of my on blood and my body ached all over. I groaned, my mouth felt like it was on fire and groaning made it twice as worse. The bathroom was dark and the building as silent. How long was I out?? I sat up slowly, testing my body. What damage had Brutus and his band of thugs done to me this time? My face was inn excruciating pain and blood was congealed in my fringe.
I dragged myself to my feet and leaned on the sink to steady myself. I peered at my face in the dark mirror. There was a smattering of bruises across my chin and a dark shadow covering my jaw. I tried to move it but the pain as too great. I staggered to the bathroom door and concentrated on not fainting.
I almost groaned again when I saw how far I had to go. I was on the third floor bathroom that was miles from the stairs. The front door was almost directly underneath me. The most frustrating thing was that I had to go through most of the school to get out, but in my sorry state it was more physically painful than frustrating.
Eventually I reached the nearest fire door and left the school. As I stepped through the door I sighed in relief. Mid-sigh I stopped, because I was just after entering a white padded room. My body ached like it never had before and my mind was screaming.
“How the fuck did I get here?” I said in absolute wonder. Well, at least I tried to but my mouth was in so much pain that I didn’t get past “how” before wanting to scream out in pain but luckily I managed to stop myself in time.
A part of one of the white walls shuddered and started coming towards me, and a couple of people walked through the gap left behind. There was a smartly dressed woman holding a clipboard getting closer to me by the second. She had dark hair pulled back into a neat bun, a navy skirt and jacket with matching high heels and a cream blouse. She wore a nametag but no matter how much I squinted at it, I couldn’t read the name. The woman stopped sharply in front of me with a tap of her heels. She was maybe my height but quite intimidating nevertheless.
The two men behind her were equally intimidating looking. One was bald and well over six foot. He stayed by the door and crossed his arms in front of his muscular chest. I gulped. The second man was obviously a doctor; he wasn’t much taller than me and wearing a white coat. He too had dark hair and an unreadable nametag. The doctor stopped a mere footstep behind the woman and joined her in staring at me. I squirmed under their scrutiny; I wasn’t used to being looked at so closely.
The woman opened her mouth and said with a voice that didn’t suit her, “Wake up. Wake up gayboy.”
My chest grew tight and my head started throbbing as I quickly realised that the vice coming from her mouth was Brutus’. I sat up gasping and looked around. The headmaster was hovering at the edge of the room and Brutus and a very scared looking first year ere next to me. Brutus had his ‘concerned teacher’s pet’ look on his face. The pain was ten times worse than I had been in my….dream? I certainly wasn’t awake because I was once again sitting on the bathroom floor in a puddle of blood. The grout holding the tiles together was tinged red. My face felt like it had just been placed in an open fire except for where I was uninjured; there my skin was icy where I’d been pressed up against the cold tiles. My hair was cool against my skin here blood had dried in it.
“What happened to you….errr…?” started the teacher.
“Frank,” I tried to say but let out a low groan instead as the pain in my jaw intensified. The teacher looked very uncomfortable.
“Help bring him to the nurse, Brutus,” the teacher said bossily. Brutus heaved me up, digging his fingernails into my skin surreptitiously as he did so.