Prompt

Instruments, Goosebumps & Flowers.

•°☆°•

Like an alert siren, my green eyes flashed through the empty corridor at school. My pace was fastidious as I kept sending quick glances over my shoulder for any unanticipated approach.

So far, so good.

At least that is what I thought. Pulled roughly by my arms, they forced me in the direction of my minefield of offenders.

“I see you took a different route, ey?” The menacing stare that he cast to me, did not match the perfect image he normally took on. His words slipped out with a pile of distaste as his goons held on tighter to my arms, like chains locking up an innocent person for a crime he did not commit.

“Well obviously, since I know where you are waiting for me. Do you honestly think it is wise to go that route?”

I knew that my words would no doubt have a bad effect on what would happen to me, that it did. My rhetorical sarcasm was a speedy reply, as was the sharp pain inflicted on my left side, by Greg, just a pawn in it all, following the lead of a future tyrant.

“Stop trying to be smart. A smart mouth is a smart target for a fist like mine, don’t you think boys?”

Needless to say they agreed, I would have shook my head but just like that, pound after pound, hit for hit, ache for ache. Defenceless in my conscious state and unable to even resist as I was beaten to the pulp.

“Next time you try another route, you will be punished worse than this Mendoza, I have eyes everywhere.”

Blood slipped from my chapped lips, due to the force it has encountered.

I sank down against the cold wall that had offered me no protection, my vision clouded as glimpses of their backs faded.

I did not know what else to do. I have tried my best to avoid them like a fugitive running away from the law, used different routes, stayed in a crowd of people, but somehow they always used it against me. What was the point?

When I told my only friend, he said that I was delusional, he could not see how the golden boy of the school was interested in bullying ‘someone like me’, or how he would even know that I existed.

In terms of ‘someone like me’, he probably meant, the loner that was invisible to almost everyone, the insecure chubby boy that was not attractive, and the boy that was always in the shadows of shyness.

A melody, I knew so well, made it's way to my ears. I could feel the goosebumps forming on my skin.

She was playing on the piano once again.

Whenever she played, one would be mesmerized at how she conveyed her entire being into the song. Every note was struck with purpose and had the power to uplight one's soul, or break it.

Whenever I heard her playing, it felt as if though I escaped my reality and just for that moment, I had no recollection of worries or anguish.

However, once the song stopped, there was silence once more, which brought me back to reality.

The floor stared back at me in animated sincerity.

But then a couple of minutes later pink pumps made their appearance in front of me. This forced my green eyes to open wider and glance up to see that the owner was, no doubt a girl.

Her hair was raven black, styled into two french braids, adorned with flowers in them. Her brown eyes looked earnest as she stretched out her hand of sympathy. I could tell that she was trying to hide the fact that she had witnessed the obscure scene play out.

I came to the conclusion that she was the one who gave me a ray of hope.

Therefore, after no contemplation, I held onto the help she offered and then she spoke for the first time, after silence ceased to exist.

“Don’t worry Kayden, this too shall pass.”