"I like your hair," She says nonchalantly, obviously not meaning a word of it. But you, you care, so you're proud, proud for the rest of the day, telling everyone how she complimented you, she liked your hair, she, the cool one.
They make you, or they break you. It's as simple as that.
"Nerd." His friends scoffed loudly. He pushed the guy with glasses
over once more and stepped on his ankle.
"You should never had been able to walk in the first place." His friends scoffed even more loudly. The gang walked away, laughing. But the guy didn't care. It happened to him everyday. The bell rang and he limped to his first class.
"Oi! Geek! Over 'ere!" He didn't turn around. That simple action
cause the dude to come up to him and smash him into his locker.
"You. Don't. Ignore. Me. You understand?" The dude pushed him harder into the locker. If only the guy could stand up to him. He had to. He needed to prove the dude wrong.
The guy didn't care. It happened to him everyday.
But deep inside, known only to his subconcious,
He was bleeding. Not the simple bleeding which you could stop with some
pressure, this was intense. His leg bled, bled, and bled some more. He couldn't
take it any more.
But who was he to care? He shouldn'tve, it happened to him everyday. Why wasn't he used to it?
It was then he realised why.
Because it was wrong.
It had to stop.
"Look who's here." The dude's too familiar voice crept over his shoulder into his eardrum. "When will you stop coming here? When will you learn your lesson?" The dude pushed him violently and the guy fell over onto his back.
"Our territory. You got that?" He didn't. Everywhere he went, it was always their territory. He wanted to stand up for himself. Make justice.
So he nodded.
He didn't go to school. He stayed at home, telling his mother who was heading
out the door to work he didn't feel very well. It was true, he didn't, because
today was the day he was finally going to put his plan into action. Gathering up
his needed equipment, he headed out the door, ten minutes after his mother. As
he stepped out onto the street, he thought sadly, that the last sound he was
going to hear wasn't the one he had planned. He had planned to hear him being
presented the Nobel Prize for Literature, applause, whispers in his ear from the
people he loved.
The car horn made a long, loud, hoot.
They either make you or break you. It's as simple as that.
It's tough, isn't it?