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Gordon hummed along to the song that played through his headphones. His eyes were on the sidewalk as he watched his feet step onto each paving slap in time to the music, his hands clutched onto the straps of his backpack.
He was in a good mood after school that day, for a change. He had given his presentation for science class, and whilst he wasn’t usually a fan of school work, they had been given the freedom to choose whatever subject they wanted. Gordon had wanted to do his on all marine life, but he only had eight minutes to give his presentation in and he knew that he couldn’t get much into that time, so his dad had helped him finally settle on his latest interest, which was sharks. He’d had fun putting the presentation together and had even brought in his shark figurines to show to the class so they had a better image of what he was talking about. For once, he looked forward to giving a presentation, and afterwards his teacher had told him he’d done a good job and his information was really extensive, so he was hopeful for a good grade.
As his eyes traced the cracks in the ground and his thoughts were lost in the events of the day, he wasn’t watching his surroundings. The music abruptly stopped as his headphones were ripped from his ears, his head jerking back with them. He didn’t have time to register who had their hands on him before he was pushed onto the grass, his backpack being pulled off him which left his arms barely able to catch him as he was sent towards the floor.
He coughed as the air was expelled from his lungs and he landed in the dirt, some of which went in his mouth. He could hear a cackling from above him, and he looked back to find three kids were standing above him, all who he knew from school.
Jake was holding his headphones in one hand and he tossed them to the side. Harry, one of the kids at his side, did the same with his backpack.
“Look who we found,” Jake spat down at him, a look in his eyes that sent a chill down Gordon’s spine. “A fish out of water.”
He kicked a foot through the ground, sending dirt toward Gordon, who lifted his hand in defence.
“A fish shouldn’t be out of water.” The third kid, Connor, stepped forward. He cocked his head as he looked down at Gordon. “That’s bad for them. Isn’t that what you said, Gordon?”
Gordon flinched as his own words from earlier were thrown back at him, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t get any words to leave his throat. He just wanted them to leave.
“Oh no, we can’t have that, can we?” Jake moved closer, and his two friends followed on either side of him. “Let’s get him back to his natural habitat.”
Gordon knew he should move, that he had to get up and run to get away from them, but his limbs were locked in place and felt sluggish as he tried to push himself up. But they had their hands on him too quickly and he didn’t have time to get away before they were pulling him to his feet and dragging him backwards.
He tried to struggle, to dig his heels into the dirt, as he was dragged across the park he had been walking past.
For a brief moment, the hands left him, but he was instantly sent flying backwards.
The cold water that smacked against his back stole the air from his lungs and he gasped, inhaling nothing but water. He tried to push himself up, but the hands were back on him and sent him back under before he could get any air.
He flailed, attacking the hands that kept grasping onto him and pushing him back any time he moved towards the surface, until eventually they suddenly disappeared.
Gordon gasped as he sat up in the shallow pond, coughing and choking on the bitter water as his lungs shuddered quickly, desperate for air. He could hear laughs fading into the background as he pulled himself towards the bank, his chest heaving as he spat up pond water.
The cold air hit him as he laid on the wet grass, and he began to shiver. His chest hurt and he whimpered as he looked up. There was no one around.
He didn’t know how long he laid there for, but he eventually pushed himself up, his arms hurting and stiff. He trembled as he stood, and sniffed as his tears mixed with the water. He didn’t even know when he’d started crying, and he wiped his eyes.
He stumbled towards where his bag still sat, and soon spotted his headphones laying nearby, fortunately still looking intact. He picked both of them up and headed back towards his home, his steps less enthused as before. He didn’t bother to put his headphones back on and instead walked in silence.
When Gordon reached his house, he stepped inside and immediately kicked his shoes off at the door and tossed his bag down with them. He didn’t call out to his family to let them know he was back, didn’t need them knowing that the freak was home. Instead, he ran up the stairs and into the bathroom, intending to scrub himself raw of the weirdo he was, of all the things he was made fun of and everything that made him different and strange.
There was still a chill deep in his bones after he’d showered that the hot water just hadn’t reached, like he was still in that cold pond. Even after he’d put on something warm and comfortable and wrapped a soft blanket over his shoulders, he still felt it.
He fiddled with his small stuffed whale shark plush, twisting it between his fingers, as he lingered in his doorway. The shower had done nothing to make him feel any more normal. Instead, he still felt like an outsider that shouldn’t exist.
He looked across at the door opposite his. It was shut, a drawing on a piece of paper that had his brother’s name surrounded by planets stuck on it. Gordon debated stepping back into his own room, but instead took the few steps forward to reach the door.
“John?” Gordon called in a small voice after he’d knocked and twisted the handle.
“What?” John snapped his head up from the book in his lap with a glare sent towards his intruder, but his features instantly softened when he saw it was Gordon, and he patted the space on the bed next to him. “Come here.”
Gordon wasted no time climbing onto his brother’s bed, and he leant against the wall next to John.
“What happened?” John asked without needing prompting. Gordon came to him for a reason. He was the only one who really got it.
He fiddled with the tiny fins of the shark in his grasp.
“They made fun of my presentation,” he muttered.
John knew what it had been about. He had helped Gordon with his research, had listened when Gordon got overexcited and dumped all the information he knew onto him.
“Don’t listen to them,” his older brother said, echoing what their older brothers had said to him when he was Gordon’s age.
Gordon didn’t think it would be so easy, and John had probably thought the same when he had first heard those words. But if he was saying that to Gordon now, then it must have been true.
They had called him a fish. His family always called him a fish, and he found it comforting from them, but from those boys it felt different, wrong.
“They pushed me in the pond,” he sniffled, feeling a lump in his throat as the tears came again. He shrank against John’s side and into the blanket still draped over his shoulders. The whale shark was gripped tightly in his hand.
“What?” John sat up slightly, jolting Gordon from his position. He settled back quickly, but twisted so that he could face his little brother better, closing the textbook that was on his lap and putting it on his pillow.
“Am I weird?” Gordon asked through the tears that fell down his cheeks. He shivered, either from the cold or emotions, he didn’t know.
“No, Gordy.” John reached over and gently carded his fingers through Gordon’s hair in the way that he always found soothing. “You’re not weird. You’re just the way you’re meant to be, and we love you for that.”
Coming from John, those words held a greater meaning, and it eased the ache in Gordon’s chest just a little.
“Okay,” he replied, still trying to believe what his brother had said was true.
John sent him a smile, and Gordon managed to muster up a small one to give him in return.
“Now, let’s go see dad.” John then got up from the bed, leaving a coldness against Gordon’s side where he had just been. “You’re burning up.”
Gordon frowned. He hadn’t realised. Still, he listened to John, and grasped the hand that was held out to him. John adjusted the blanket back over his shoulders, and then guided Gordon out of the room.