Gradually, various voices and senses pierced through the haze of exhaustion that surrounded Lance, and he wrenched his eyes open with great effort, only to squeeze them shut again at the brightness of the sun. When he adjusted to the glaring light, he took in his surroundings.

He was in a playground, filled with laughing elementary school age children who were chasing each other left and right happily. A few were occupying the yellow slide or red monkey bars, but he was alone on the swing set. He was the same age as them, but he didn't seem to think that there was anything strange about that, disregarding it.

Immediately, his tiredness evaporated, instead replaced by energy as he thought, Oooh, that looks fun! I want to go play with them!

Lance stood up from the gently swaying swing and made his way over to a group of young boys who were planning their next "attack" on a group of girls by the balance beam.

"Okay, so Luis, you go left, Rafael, you go right. Charlie, André, Daniel and I will circle them and make sure they can't escape! We'll beat the girls at their own game!" One of them was shouting, punching his fist in the air.

"Yeah!!" The other boys exclaimed, their faces excited for the chase.

Just as they were about to start off, Lance tapped the leader in his shoulder.

"What do you want?" The boy snapped.

Lance smiled at the group. "That game looks fun. Can I play with you?"

There was a pause. And then a snort. "Ha!" The leader scoffed. "You? You wouldn't be able to follow my directions because you're too dumb and weird. Why would we let you play with us? You'd scare the girls away!"

"Yeah, you'd scare the girls away," the boys repeated mindlessly.

With that, they left him, standing in the rocks that covered the playground area, his hand still outstretched in their direction.

Their words replayed in his head and he let out a startled cry as his head throbbed. His small and slightly chubby hand flew up to it, cradling it until the headache passed.

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes as he thought to himself, Why won't they let me play with them? I'm not dumb! I'm not! There has to be someone who will let me play with them. He looked up from in between his hands, his ocean-colored eyes finding a group of little girls sitting under the slide. They look nice. Maybe I can have some luck with them.

One girl was holding a hand up to her forehead dramatically as she said, "What can a princess do? I'm stuck up in this tower with no one else to rescue me! There aren't any noble princes in sight - "

"Um. . . ." Lance bent down beside her, giving her what he thought was his most charming smile. "If you let me play, I could be your prince."

She drew back, scooting as far away from him as she could. "Eeew, no!" she complained, her voice dripping with disgust. "You can't be my prince! Princes are supposed to be handsome, not ugly like you!" She glared at him. "Get away from me! You're ruining our game with your ugliness!"

When he didn't move, she tugged one of her friends' sleeves and pulled her out from under the slide, the rest of her group following suit and once again leaving Lance by himself.

The headache returned even worse than it had been before as he considered what the little girl had said. I'm not ugly! Am I? I'm not! I'm not ugly or stupid, right? I can't be! Someone in this playground will need me, they have to! He quit wiped the corner of his eyes clear of the tears that had been forming in them. I just need to find them.

. . . .

Time passed, and he had visited every clique and group in the playground, but none of them had needed nor wanted his company, each rejection accompanied by an insult and a growth in the headache's fierceness. By the end, it was so bad that he was barely able to walk, and every step sent a wave of pain through him.

Eventually, he just gave up and sunk to his knees in the hard rocks, which soaked up his tears. Why does no one want me?! This repeated over and over in his head. Why am I always alone?!

He hugged himself, trying to suppress his sobs because he felt each one like a dagger through his skull.

No one stopped to help him.

The pain grew and grew at the same pace as his many self-doubts, and, with an anguished scream, his head split apart, bloodying the rocks around him.

His classmates just stepped around his body, neither noticing nor caring about what they had done to him.

After all, he had been nothing to them, so why should they?