A Short Story

I prayed silently in my mind, “Please don’t let him see me.” I was walking, heads down slowly along the pavement. He turned around, finger pointing at me and shouted in a very angry voice, “Hey, loser kid!” And I stopped. I should have run. I didn’t.

He has plenty of friends in school. I have none. He’s the head of the gang. I am the nerd kid. Everyone follows him. They picked on me. Every single day he’ll ask me for ‘pocket’ money. I barely made my morning break at school with what my parents gave me. Some days I didn't eat because I had to pay off that fat bully. Looking back, I wondered how I ever went throughout the year with him threatening to beat me every day.

It’s unfortunate that we were from the same class. That means he’s always around and I can’t get away. Being a bully means he had control over me. He made me finish his homework. I have no problem with that; after all it was easy for me, I am the smart one. During school all he did was joking around, talking about football and where to get the coolest and trendiest attire around town. People always laughed at his jokes and he does have a charming smile that could melt a girl’s heart. I didn’t have any friend, if you exclude the one sitting next to me in class. And I thought it was alright, as long as I’m still breathing and well.

We lived in the same neighbourhood and our parents barely knew each other. His house is the biggest one here. He always talked about his parents. To the countries they went and the exotic stuffs they bought for him. Though every time I walked by his house it’s always dark and quiet. Maybe they didn’t like bright lights, I thought.

When he walked towards me, I instinctively reached into my pocket, grabbing, or really just feeling the money my mom just gave me. He smirked and opened his palm. “Can you spare me today?” I suddenly blurted. I swear I didn’t know where that came from. His face reddened “JUST GIVE ME THE MONEY OR I”LL BEAT YOU TO PULP!” I heard some coins hitting the pavements when I shoved all the money I’ve been holding in my pocket but I didn’t turn around until I reached the front gate of the school, breathless.

Nothing happened for the rest of the day. He ignored me and I heard he planned to go out with his friends later tonight. Not that I really wanted to know but his voice filled through the whole class. We went to the same tuition around our neighbourhood. He rarely attends the class though. He preferred to linger around smoking and playing with his smartphone with his friends. It was just like any other night.

Except that I didn’t plan to get home early that night. My stomach played truant on me and I had to skip tuition. He’s at his usual spot alone going through his phone. I walked along the lamp posts that lead to my row of houses.  There are a few cats and dogs. Typical night really, except..

“GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME!” He screamed at the top of his lung. I instantly turned my head. There were three guys. All wore identical black t-shirts with jeans and each had red cloth around their wrists. Two were holding him.  The other one stands in front of him.  Holding his neck, tight.  I can see he’s struggling, he can’t breathe. The guy didn’t let go of his grip instead he laughs, like a maniac.

I was there. Watching silently the unravelling of the event. The thought of running away didn’t cross my mind. I was transfixed. I didn’t know why. He’s clearly in trouble. He definitely needed help. “Should I help him?”

I took my phone and quickly dialled in the local police number. Luckily I saved them and it connected straight to the station. I was standing in between lamp posts so the light didn’t fell directly on me. I guess that concealed me from their attention. Or that they don’t actually care even if anyone is watching.

The guy in front kicked him repeatedly. You can see his face lose breath faster than he can inhale. He gasped for air. The two guys holding him tighten their grip. I walked as fast as my trembling legs would let me. You should imagine being at my place. I wasn’t the bully. I’m not one with the biggest muscle. One look and you know I can’t harm anyone physically. But I went. Until to this day whenever I reflected back I still can’t be sure what made me walk towards him that night instead of the opposite.

They all turned towards me. Our eyes met. With him I mean. I can see the fear and the hopelessness in his eyes. You don’t usually see that kind of resigned look just by being beaten alone. Something tells me there could be more than meet the eyes. “What do you want kid?” The kicker asked in his high-pitched voice. His yellow-stained teeth couldn’t take the attention from his big scar on his forehead. This guy is no joke. My legs trembled.

“Hah, this is your friend?” His eyes looked straight into my eyes. I was hesitant. Actually I’m too scared to answer. “Well well, looks like he wants to help, eh?” “URGH!” Another kick went straight to his stomach. He slumped. His head looking down and I thought I saw blood trickling down his mouth. I summoned all the courage I had and screamed “Stop it!” I went straight to him.

He laughed while he side-stepped me and bring me to the ground, one-handed. Ugh, I shouldn’t have stayed. I shouldn’t have confronted them. And why the hell did I went for him? Seriously, I really am out of my character. What have I been thinking? Do I stand any chance against three guys? I can’t even protect my lunch money for God sake. And here I am kissing the ground, feeling numb on my lips, actually tried saving one who starved me just this morning.

The siren saved us that night. The guys managed to run away but were taken into custody the day after. They were from the local loan shark gang. Apparently all the kids from the tuition heard about the commotion and nobody went to help. He was badly injured and had to spend the night at the hospital. I went straight home. I didn’t tell my parents what I did. In fact, I was in a daze for a few days and didn’t attend school. I needed to recover. I thought about him. Hopefully his parents came and saw to him.

I was walking my usual path to the school. Humming some song I barely remember last night. It was a cool morning. The sun was blocked by the thick fog. I welcomed the respite from the heat. He was waiting for me. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised at the sight of him. I reluctantly grabbed the money in my pocket, “I don’t want your money” he said. “What?” I asked. He replied “I’m not here to take your money, keep it.” You can sort of sense that he’s not looking for trouble. He’s not wearing his usual angry look. The bruises from the event are still visible on his face. “What do you want then?” I finally asked.

We sat that morning on the moist grass, our gaze were looking beyond the green field in front of us. At first he told me the reason why those men came looking for him. They were after his parents. It wasn’t known (yet) that his parents went away to other countries to avoid these men. Eventually they got the details of their son and started harassing him. That was when he started to skip tuition.

The event went on throughout the morning. He told me with shoulder hunched down. It was like it’s holding a burden that no one can see. On his parents’ negligence and their problems with the loan sharks, the need to survive while the parents went away, and how he ended up turning into a bully. That morning he opened up to me. No I don’t know why he told me. Yes I did help him sort of with the men. I guess he needed someone he can trust. Maybe I gave him reason to trust me. It came pouring out. I listened silently, nodding here and there. I didn’t ask anything. I knew he needed to talk.

At the end of it he cried. He cried because he needed to, he cried because he’s sorry. Sorry for all the things he did to me. Sorry for the pain he caused. I stood there and did nothing. How would I know how to react then? I’m literally a 14 year old kid who still lives in my imaginary bubble oblivious to the harsh reality. I never had anyone shared their life story with me. And I never had to deal with anyone crying except my little baby nephew that occasionally came for a visit.

You see, the start of a friendship could come from anywhere. For me it started that foggy morning. We shared something beyond what we can explain that time. Over the years, while growing up together I would like to pin that down to trust and hope. We both trusted no one and we both hoped for something better. I realized things could turn drastically different if I walked away that night. I’m glad I didn’t. Turns out, it was a start of a wonderful and lifelong friendship.

-aki-

as written in 21/9/14

REFLECTION:

The story was written with simple and short sentences to gets across the message directly to the reader.  It creates more impact and forces the reader to speed up and less time to ponder instead continues reading. The main theme is friendship although it isn’t apparent until the last few paragraphs.

It was hard to start at first but after a few readings I get some inspirations on how to approach and create the ‘atmosphere’ I wanted to convey. I used a first person narrative and deliberately left out any names to further give the sense how ‘close’ the reader is with the story.