For Phil {Completed}

Two

Hurry, hurry, hurry, before they get to you. They're right behind you, they know where you're going. It's too late to change directions, keep going. Almost the- shit. I stopped from my mad sprint to see a sign on the boys restroom saying "closed for cleaning". Fuck. It was lunch and I was trying to run into the bathroom so I could avoid the usual bullying during lunch, but it looked like that wouldn't happen today.

"Hey, fag, where do you think you're going? Trying to escape your daily lunch beating?" Oh no. No. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. They were coming around the corner, it was too late. I was dead.

"Good thing you were trying to skip lunch. You're fat, you don't need to eat. Fat fag, huh?" Before I knew it I was staring at three jocks blocking the hall and any hope of me escaping. With my back against the wall, I watched them step forward. Menacing looks and devilish smirks, they were right in front of me. I felt my breathing get more sporadic and less controlled.

"What's the matter? Too fucking stupid to talk? To fucking weak to defend yourself?" The jocks laughed as their leader glared at me, his smirk plastered on his face, as he pulled his fist back and took a hard blow to my face. I was down, curled up on the floor, trying to process everything. My vision was a bit blurry, I could barely breath, and my face hurt like hell. Then there was a sharp pain in my side. And another. And soon my whole body was aching from the unbearable pain of their feet making contact with my fragile body, unable to even cry out.

"Alright guys, let's go. Howell's had enough for now." They turned to go to lunch as I was left curled up on the floor, silent tears rolling down my bruised cheek. I tried to move, even a little, but any pain caused me to hiss and cry more, collapsing back onto the dirty tile of the school floor. My breathing was still uncontrolled, and I had tears silently pouring out of my eyes. I needed out of here. All I could feel was the pounding in my head and the immense pain coming from my sides. All I could see was the blur of the school hallway, the baigh walls mixing with the greyish white of the floors.

Breath, breath, I need to breath. But I can't. It felt like all the oxygen had been taken from me, and my lungs couldn't get enough. I was face down on the floor, having no strength to push myself up. It was then that I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and pull my fragile and limp body pull me up. I couldn't see who they were, or hear what they were saying. I felt dizzy. Too dizzy. My body was being shaken, my mind spinning, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier. Black. It was all I could see, all I could hear, all I could feel.

"...should be awake sometime soon. He was unconscious when he got here, but it wasn't too bad. He's got a lot of bruises on his sides and a black eye. All in all, he should be okay." It was a male voice speaking. A doctor? Yeah, it had to be a doctor. His voice was calm and I didn't mind hearing it, but I didn't like was he was saying. Black eye? Bruises? Great.

"Thank you," said a female voice. Oh, my mum. Yes, it was my mum. Why would she be here? I struggled to get my body to respond to my wish of opening my eyes, which took quite some difficulty. I was soon able to slowly work my eyes open, being immediately greeted with the brightest light I'd ever seen. It felt like heaven was descending on me, I swear I was going blind. I slowly and painfully turned my head to try to get away from the bright light, being met with a large machine with loads of buttons and wires, emitting the most annoying beeping sound I had ever heard. Looking over a bit, I saw my mum leaning against the wall furthest away from me. I was surprised she was here, she usually didn't care where I was or what I did.

"I don't want to be here, Daniel," there it is. "But since you're underage, you're unable to leave without an adult," she stated bluntly with a not-so-subtle eyeroll. I knew she didn't want to be here. She never wanted anything to do with me. Ever since I was born I was a constant disappointment for her. She had wanted a girl- a child to dress up and do girl things with. But instead she had a "faggot son," as she liked to call me, and a husband that walked out as soon as he saw his son kissing a boy.