the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

speak

my bully game is weak

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Scott hadn't spoken or made a sound in seven years.

He kept to himself, silently doing his work at school and turning it in while the rest of the students babbled on and on and on about stuff he didn't care about. That was probably the reason he had such good grades.

But still, it didn't stop the bullying. If anything, it might have made it worse.

"Hey, look. It's the freak."

"I heard he doesn't talk because he ripped out his own vocal chords. Who does that?"

"He has no friends. He's just a loner."

Scott didn't fight back. Sure, he heard the whispers as he passed in the hallway and the snickers of his classmates, but he didn't bother to say anything back to them. He'd rather let them laugh than try to stop it. Trying to stop it would require speaking, and quite frankly, Scott didn't like speaking. He hated his voice. He hated himself.

When he started fourth grade, a new kid came in town. That kid instantly became popular, but unfortunately for Scott, he hated him. The kid turned all of Scott's friends against him, and they bullied the poor boy relentlessly. He stopped talking in fifth grade when they began bullying him for his voice.

Mitch was curious about the mysterious blond that he had had all of his classes with for the past six years. Instead of laughing at him, Mitch had taken to watching him as he did his work, wondering what was going on in that head of his.

They hadn't had any kind of interaction at all until one day, Mitch happened across a few boys beating Scott up. And yet, even though he was being kicked and punched and slapped, not a sound escaped his lips.

Mitch's eyes immediately widened as they fell upon the scene and he rushed forward to stop them, not even caring that he was much, much smaller than they were. "Hey! What are you doing?" Mitch set his books down and pulled the boys' arms as best he could, somehow managing to at least get them away from the poor boy. "Why do you care? It's just the freak," one of the boys said loudly, but Mitch moved stubbornly in front of the blond. "You're going to kill him."

"That would be better for everyone, wouldn't it?"

"No, you jerk! I'm sure he's a wonderful person. You haven't even gotten to know him!"

"He doesn't f*cking talk."

"There are other ways of communication," Mitch snapped. "Now leave him alone." The other boy opened his mouth to say something, but his companion tugged him away before he could.

Mitch immediately turned around and rushed to Scott's side, now extremely worried. "Are you okay?" Scott just nodded and gingerly picked himself up off the floor, wincing with every movement. Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by Scott gathering up his books and getting up. Mitch frowned and got up with him, reaching out to carefully take his arm — Scott had begun to walk past him, as though going to class. "You can't go to class like that, you're all bloody..." Scott just shook his head and broke himself free of Mitch's grasp, trying to continue on his way, but Mitch stopped him again. "We're in the same class, at least let me walk you." Scott didn't do anything to stop him, so Mitch picked up his books and followed him.

Inside, Scott was panicking. It had been forever since he'd had any social reaction with anyone — his parents simply ignored him. He was terrified it was all an act and he'd be left lying broken and bruised yet again. In class, Mitch had seemed nice enough. He didn't laugh with the rest of the students, but Scott still couldn't trust him. They all left eventually. Scott would either end up alone or dead.