Fake

Chapter 4

He fell down onto the dirt that was still a bit wet from the rain 3 days ago. He looked up, his eyes filled with fear.

"Niᐧlamesiwa." They'd say.

He heard them laugh as if taking joy in his pain. He looked at the looming figures above him.

"Melwi, melwi, melwi, kanawa pame wa we ki lawena-n aya we wa wemiʔši." One said a large grin plastered on their face, "Apwete-wi akw wekwiʔsemaᐧwa kiᐧšaᐧčyemeᐧwa weto."

He gulped, backing away only for him to bump into something or more like someone. He hesitantly looked up to see another smirking down at him.

"Tuktel niye iyaya?" They said, tilting their head to the side.

He started to shake, his bottom lip trembling.  He just wanted to be left alone, why was he the one they ended up picking on for their personal joy? Then again he rather himself suffer through pain rather than someone else go through their beatings.

They laughed as they saw him tremble, "Niye waske sni." One said in a taunting tone.

He looked down, finding the dirt to be more interesting than anything.

'Maybe I am-'

He shook his head.

No, he wasn't weak. He was strong just like Shimá said he was.

He slowly stood up only to feel a painful pressure against his stomach. He was instantly knocked to the ground as he skirted across the dirt, stopping a few feet away from them, the air knocked out of him. He held his stomach, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

Looking up, he saw three figures looming over him with grins full of malice. He then felt another blow, this time on his chest. He gasped for air trying to take in oxygen.

They laughed as he started to breathe heavily from the impact. He made the mistake of unwrapping his arms from his stomach because he felt another kick on his stomach making him cry out.

Tears started streaming down his cheeks and wouldn't stop. Tears fell to the ground, seeping into the dirt leaving nothing in its trail as the dirt was already wet.

"Niye ceye ca ota." One of them snarled.

They were right. He does cry a lot. He can't even take a hit. Suddenly he was lifted off of the ground, his legs dangling from his body.

"Unkis shi ognaya kici niye naho." Another said. They then threw him on the dirt, him landing on his side. 

He whimpered curling himself into a ball hoping they would stop and leave him alone, that it was only a nightmare, but he knew he was hoping for too much.

"Wasake sni." They said and kicked him again and again, lifting him off the ground throwing punches until he was bleeding.

All he could do was cry.

Punch after punch. Kick after kick and all he could do was cry, letting the tears freely fall down his cheeks as his body ached.

They were right. He was weak. He wasn't as strong as she said he was.

And he never will be.

He was back on the dirt, his face bloody and bruised. He was sure his body had cuts and bruises. They didn't do anything when he was on the ground, but he knew they weren't done yet. Why would they be? They liked seeing him in pain and will go to an extent to make sure of it.