warnings: violence
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concept writing based on early versions of one of my books (not on Wattpad)

~*~

I shove one of the boys forcefully, but it is instantly and abundantly clear in this moment which of us is stronger, as he, the recipient, remains upright, stumbling from what looks like more of shock from my retaliation rather than the actual impact. I, on the other hand, spin flimsily around, putting me in a uniquely terrifying position. Not only is my back now to everyone, but my eyes are locked directly with those of a group of teachers. For the split second that I maintain eye contact, I can see even from afar that they are indifferent. There is no concern or even interest in their expressions, as if they are only bothering to look this because they know they're supposed to. Which I believe is exactly right.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins suddenly transforms, changing from an icy panic to a flaming rage. Consumed by fury at the sight of their bystanding, I take a step forward and scream so loud that even their def ears must hear it, "DO SOMETHING!" I want to believe that I now have their attention, but there's no time to find out.

Someone yanks the flag around my neck, and that terrifying thought crosses my mind yet again: they will choke me with this flag. The "fight" instinct takes over and turns me around on a dime, bending and lifting my arm as I turn so that my elbow will hit whoever pulled the flag. It does, square in the chest. The boy, a different one than before, falls and hits the ground. I nearly fall as well, horrified that I hit him so hard. Horrified that this is what I've come to.

But the boy is not scared like I am. His fall is so graceful you'd think it was rehearsed. He lands in the grass, and as he hits the ground he curls so that he rolls back and then straight forward onto his feet. In a second, he is back up. While watching his stunning recovery, I see out of the corner of my eye the rest of the battlefield. Maya is on my right, her fists are clenched. She is not merely retaliating anymore, she's charging. Sage and Charlie are beside each other, working solely as defense and in no position to change their strategy. Jane is behind Sage and Charlie, cowering in fear. A part of me wishes she would toughen up and defend herself, but the overwhelming majority of my panicked thoughts remind me that she is perhaps the smartest one here. Her fear warns mine that retreat is necessary.

With anger rising and a moment approaching which I do not wish to approach, I scream again, "FALL BACK!" Why I'm using militant commands, I don't know, and I don't have time to evaluate. Without question, everyone in my group turns and runs back to the starting blocks. I'm running faster than I knew I could, and I realize we are all running this fast. It seems now that we all understand the nature of this situation.

Or perhaps not all. I look behind me to see if our attackers are following, and for some reason I don't care to discover, they aren't. As I turn back, I see in a blur the teachers. They are all still watching with a bored stare, they have not moved an inch in the past few moments since I cried out to them. I now feel, more so than ever before, that we are truly alone.