Kik Me, I'm Irish

Oops.

"Why?" Sean whispered, a line of blood trickling down from a cut near the back of his head. "Why is it me that you prefer to hurt?"

It was the question he had never asked Mark before, mainly because he knew that what he got in return would be more pain, but at this point, Sean didn't care.

"Hmm?" Mark questioned, having not played attention, his friends already having left.

"Why?...why do always choose to hurt...me? Before anyone else in the school?"

"Oh, right!" Mark laughed. "Well, its just so easy. I mean, you have no friends in the school, no one will stick up for you, you don't fight back...why not?"

Sean struggled into a sitting position, leaning against the lockers behind him. Avoiding any eye contact with Mark, some small part of him still hoping absurdly that if he didn't look Mark in the eye, Mark wouldn't notice him.

Yeah, Sean had no such luck.

Mark grinned at Sean, a glint in his eye that drove all the people in love with him at school mad, though Sean knew that that look just meant trouble, usually for him, though Mark changed his favourite victim every month or so.

Lucky Sean, he was the favourite almost all the time. And boy, did Sean feel honoured.