"Do You Know What's Worth Fighting For?"

The one thing I hated about my seat by the door in most of my classes was having to see the continuous bullying in the halls. Sure, the teachers say that they know about all the abuse at the school, but then how come they can't seem to see the beatings that occur right in front of their classroom doors? It was like they were blind to what was right in front of their faces. I pointed out the bullying to my teachers, but before they could open the door, the bully was already gone and the victim was left leaning against the wall for support trying to gather their books and wiping blood from their nose or lip.

The teacher would call from the hall for me to help and I would end up taking the poor kid to the nurse's office for some ice. "Why don't you say something to a teacher?" I would always ask them. Some of them would just look at me and look back down. Most just replied with the same sentence. "I've tried, but it doesn't help." Then they would look down and whisper “you wouldn't understand." But I did understand; I understood more than they thought I did.

When I entered my freshman year of high school, I was the weak, lanky kid that sat in the back of the room and kept straight As through the year. I didn't talk much, and it seemed like that was what made me a target. My tormentor was a broad shouldered jock with a short temper. He thought it was funny to tease me until I screamed in his face or use me as a practice dummy for boxing. I told the principal about him, and the principal suspended him for as long as he could, which was only a few days. When he came back, he got harder on me and ended up breaking my arm after pushing me down a flight of stairs during passing period. After that, I just decided to ignore him, and after a few more black eyes and bloody noses, he finally got bored and left me alone. Now that I stood as a bystander, it was much harder because I already knew what was going through the victim's mind after the first punch. It was the thought of how much longer can I take this before I break?

 

Some are strong, but others just don't know how to live with the abuse. It was only November and the number of suicide attempts was high but only one was successful, but even that was too much. And as I sat there watching beating number two of that day out the window by the class door, my mind wandered off from the teacher's lecture and I thought about something that had never come to mind before. Why did I just sit here? Why didn't I stop this myself? Sure, one person can't stop a problem that's present all around the world, but maybe I can start something and maybe others will follow. It only takes one little detail to change the world; maybe I can be that detail.

I looked back out the window; the beating was still in effect. I stood up. The old wooden chair creaked as I pushed it back, catching the attention of my peers and teacher. My teacher paused in her lesson and looked at me; I was too busy looking out the window. "Alex, what's wrong?" I looked at her and then looked back at the window. The tormentor was gone, but the victim was still there. "There's another one." She looked out the window and put her hand over her mouth to cover her shocked gasp. She ran to the door and opened it swiftly. It hit the wall with an echoing slam. I waited in the doorway counting down the seconds until I would have to take the kid to the nurse. Four... three... two... one. And just like clockwork she turned to me. She opened her mouth to ask, but I beat her to it. "I'll take him to the nurse." She closed her mouth and nodded, helping the boy to his feet. "Come on," I said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I helped him down the hall to the nurse's office.

This kid was new; I hadn't seen him before. He was only freshman from what I could tell by his height and face. He kept looking up at me while we walked, then he finally talked. "Thanks for the help, it's nice to know that not everybody here is going to try and kill me." He tried to let out a small, comedic chuckle but then he winced in regret.

"No problem. You're new here aren't you?"

He nodded. "I just moved here from out of the state. I had to move because my parents were tired of me constantly coming home with a split lip or bruises. Now I think about it, it wouldn't have mattered either way."

I frowned. "Well you don't have to think of it that way. You just need to try and find a way around all the bullies. Try and find ways to avoid them altogether, that's what I did."

He looked up at me. "And it worked?"

"Eventually. It might take a while before they start getting bored, but it worked for me.

He nodded. "Well I can try."

We stood in the nurse's office while she was taking care of a student with an upset stomach. The boy turned to me. "My name's Michael by the way." He put his hand out.

I shook his hand. "Alex."

He smiled as much as he could with his split lip. "It was nice meeting you Alex. And thanks for the advice. I just hope I didn't cause you any trouble."

"It was no trouble at all, and if you ever need any help or just want to talk, you can find me in the back of the library." He nodded.

I walked back to class after the nurse helped him over to a cot and called his dad. My teacher thanked me when I entered the room; I just nodded in reply. Sitting back down, it seemed as if the scribbled faces on my notes were trying to tell me something. As if they were whispering silent messages to me. "How does it feel?" They asked. "How does it feel to help out all those like you?" I replied to their questions. "It feels pretty good." It was as if I wanted to do it again, more than I normally do. As if I wanted to find myself back in the hands of my enemies in order to save dozens of others that were on the brink of just giving up. I smiled.

The bell rang. Throwing my torn notebook and pens into my backpack and pushing in my right earbud, I stood up from my desk and pushed in my chair. I was just about to walk through the door when my teacher called to me.

"Alex, can I talk to you for a minute?"

I didn't care if I was late to lunch, so I nodded and walked over to her. She looked like something was troubling her.

"I've noticed that lately you haven't been focusing on your work, and you haven't taken many notes. Is something wrong?"

She was one of those teachers that could tell when you were lying, but still hated to hear bad news. I might as well just tell her what was on my mind.

"I just don't understand."

She tilted her head to the side. "What don't you understand Alex?"

I looked out into the hallway and saw a janitor washing a spot of blood off the wall. That set me off. My hands turned into tight fists. I just wanted to scream. How could it not be obvious?! I mean, every day I spend at the least eight minutes in this class alone just helping some poor kid to the nurses office. The nurses don't even ask for my name anymore. Am I just invisible in your class until some kid gets his lights punched out?

 

I wanted to say so much to her, but I had to control myself. Deep breaths; in and out. I unclenched my hands and looked back at her.

"It's just that- I just don't understand how nobody notices these kids just like that kid Michael going through this shit every day. And it makes me wonder what their parents think when their kid comes home from school all beat up." I said.

I picked up my backpack. "How can they call this a bully-free school?"

The teacher stood there unresponsive like she was still thinking of something to say.

I looked up at the clock. "Can I go now?" I asked.

She looked up from her thoughts. "Oh." She nodded. I walked through the door and down the hall to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria to me was just a sea of faces from the preppy girls and jocks to the geeks and victims. But I didn't sit with any of them; I chose the most solitary seat in the room with the best view of everything. Who needed friends to sit with when the whole cafeteria was like several reality TV shows going on at once. It also proved as a way to look out for trouble with the infamous bullies. I opened my backpack and pulled out a brown paper bag. Inside was a Tupperware container of leftover pasta salad from the night before.

Everything was going by without any problems when the radar went off. I looked up to see Jason, the kid that was beating up Michael last hour. His eyes met mine; those eyes were full of hate. He pointed my way and started towards my table. All eyes were on me. Jason grew closer, and I could tell that this encounter wasn't going to be pleasant in the least.

"You," he shouted, "who the hell do you think you are?!"

I backed into the wall behind me. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He pinned me against the wall and held me up by my collar. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. I saw you helping that loser earlier, and I know that you've been helping out a few other losers lately. Who do you think you are freaking Jesus?!"

I stood my ground. "I was just helping those kids out. They don't deserve to be afraid of going to school every day thinking that they're going to get beat up."

He threw me against the table spilling everything on it. "The hell they don't. They chose to mess with the wrong kid and got what they deserve just like you're gonna get right now." He threw me to the ground and started kicking me. I just laid there because I knew that if I were to swing at him, I would get suspended too. I was fighting the urge to get up and hit him; I just kept telling myself he's not worth it.

 

I felt the security guard pull Jason off of me. "Knock it off!" He shouted. I had my eyes closed the whole time, and when I opened them up, I saw that I was surrounded by all the faces of the cafeteria.

The security guard put out his hand to help me up. "Are you okay kid?" He asked. On the inside I was saying no. I was covered in bruises, my arm was bleeding, and I allover felt like I had been hit by a bus, but I just tried to fake a smile through the pain and nodded yes.

They guided me limping to the nurse’s office. "You know we're going to have to call your parents right?"

"Yeah, I know." I limped to a cot and waited for the nurse to come over. When she saw me, she froze.

"Alex, what happened?"

"Ah nothing, I just got threatened by some bully, the usual." I laid back on the cot.

"You haven't been on the receiving end for a long time. How did this happen?"

"This kid just got mad at me because he saw me helping out all these bullying victims. He was just warning me to back off, that's all." I said.

She handed me an ice pack for my side. "Well to me it looks like he gave you more than a warning. But you know that I think it's pretty sweet of you to be helping these kids out, and it’s pretty brave of you to put yourself in danger like this."

"It's just like old times."

"That's not a good thing."

I chuckled as I wiped the blood off my elbow and lip. It had been two years since my parents had to pick me up in the nurse's office because of bullying, so they were pretty surprised when the school called them both at work.

I was lying on the cot resting when I heard the sound of squeaky sneakers coming through the door. I slowly sat up and opened my eyes and sure enough, it was my older sister, Rachel, standing in the nurse's office.

"Hi Rachel." I said.

She looked my way. "You look like crap." I could tell that she had been sleeping when school called.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I asked.

She came over and sat down on the cot. She sighed. "Dad is in the office talking to the principal and that other kid's parents, and if I know Mom, she probably just pulled into the parking lot. She sounded pretty worried over the phone so beware."

I laid back down and shut my eyes again. "Great."

"You know," she said, "I was a bit worried too. The last time that something like this happened you were brought to the emergency room."

"There's nothing to worry about. It was just a one-time thing."

"That's what you said last time."

I really wished that she would stop worrying about me and worry about something more important like her school work. I wished that everybody would stop worrying about me. Right now, my mom was probably racing through the halls to get here, my dad was probably yelling at my principal or Jason's parents, and my English teacher was probably writing a note to my counselor. All of this because I stood up for a bunch of kids that are too afraid to. To be honest, I wasn't worried at all about what might happen to me. I didn't care as long as people like Michael were safe to get an education.

I heard the sound of fast high heels heading my way. "Hi, I'm here to pick up my son, Alex." In came my mother in her usual business suit and dress pants.

"He's right over there." The nurse said. She pointed towards the cot.

"Oh my god! Alex what happened?" She ran over to my as quick as any women could in high heels. She kneeled down in front of me and grabbed my face looking at all the bruises.

"I just got hit by some kid, that's all."

"You look like you've been run over by a truck." She looked around the room. "Where's your father?" She asked.

"I saw him in the main office talking to the principal," Rachel said, "he looked furious."

My mom stood up and sighed. "I should go over there and calm him down before the security has to drag him out."

She walked through the door, but she turned around as if forgetting something. "Rachel," Rachel looked at her, "can you take Alex home?" Rachel nodded. "Thanks."

She walked back out into the hallway. The nurse walked over with another ice pack. "You two can leave. Your mom signed you out."

I took the ice and stood up. "Thanks Rose."

She smiled, "No problem Alex."

Rachel and I walked down the hall with our hands in our pockets. "I could go for a nap." I said.

Rachel yawned. "Same here." We laughed.

The security guards were standing in the lobby. They looked at me. "Hope you feel better kid." One of them said.

"Yeah, that beat down looked pretty ugly." The other stated.

"Thanks guys.” I said as we walked through the main door.

Rachel and I said nothing to each other the whole ride home. She was probably thinking to herself the whole time that I was going to get myself killed by doing this again. It wasn't like I wanted to get mugged during lunch. That doesn't mean that I'm going to stop helping these kids just because I know there's a chance that I'll wake up in the hospital again. Rachel was the one that took me to the nurse unconscious after being thrown down the stairs. She worries about me more than she'll admit. I could tell that she was mad at me because I didn't worry about my own well-being as much as I should. It's not as scary the second time around, especially when you have other problems on your mind.

Rachel took the keys out of the ignition and unbuckled her seat belt. I unbuckled mine and opened the door. Rachel came around to help me, but I ushered her aside and stood up cautiously. She grabbed my backpack and threw it over her shoulder before locking the car. I waited for her to unlock the front door and leaned against the railing on the porch. She opened the door and stepped inside. I followed behind her.

The house seemed so quiet and empty; even the air was still. Rachel dropped my backpack by the bottom of the stairs and sat down on the couch. She sighed, "why must you be the good guy? You always ending getting yourself hurt."

I laid down on the sofa next to her. "I just don't like seeing people in pain. It's a curse."

She didn't say anything after that. I stayed there for a bit and stared at the ceiling fan. I could hear Rachel snoring lightly. That's when I decided to head upstairs to my own room. I was feeling pretty sore, so I took a couple Motrin before climbing up the stairs.

My room was an icebox. It felt nice. I laid down on top of my sheets and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of yelling downstairs. It was still light outside. According to my clock, I had been asleep for at least an hour. I stood up and opened my bedroom door. My parents were screaming at each other.

"If he doesn't go to school, he'll fall behind." My dad yelled.

My mom screamed back at him. "But if he does go to school, he'll get hurt. He might get himself killed."

I made my way down the stairs and ran over to where they stood in the kitchen. "You're both wrong," I intruded, "if I stay home, my teachers can just email my assignments. And if I go to school, I won't get hurt because Jason won't be there. It will work out either way, so can you two please stop fighting about it."

They both looked at me. My dad turned to my mom. "He's right."

They both turned to me. "We're sorry we started fighting about something unimportant like that." My mom apologized.

My dad added in, "and we're sorry if we woke you up."

"That's okay. Everybody's just stressed out, that's all." I said.

"Everybody except you." Rachel walked out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel. I didn't say anything back. I just grabbed a can of soup and made myself some dinner.

I decided to stay home the rest of the week so that my mom could go to work without worrying about me getting in a fight again. My teachers emailed my work to me so that I wouldn't fall behind. I spent my days working on assignments and watching reruns on TV.

I was surprised one day when there was a knock on the front door. I opened the door and saw Michael standing on my front porch.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm still a little sore. How about you?"

His split lip was healing up, but he looked tired. "About the same. Everybody at school heard about what happened. There are videos all over the internet. I met some other kids that said that you helped them out too, we all think of you as our savior."

"I'm really just some kid, that's all."

"You're more than that to us. You defended us when no one else would, and we thank you for that."

I didn't think of myself as a hero, but these kids did. I knew I couldn't let them down now. Michael and I talked a little bit more. He told me about how he found out about my past and how when the others found out, they finally knew that I did understand what they were going through. When he finally left, I was left alone to think about my status as a hero. It was new. I had never been more than a loner before. This sudden fame felt kind of weird. I let the thought sink in a bit while I watched more reruns.

 

After sitting on the same couch watching the same reruns for hours, I felt pretty useless. I had no homework to finish, the house was clean, and Rachel was up in her room snoring. The house was too quiet.

I quietly stood up from the couch, knowing that even if she was snoring, Rachel was a very light sleeper, and grabbed a pen and paper. Went outside for some fresh air. I'll be back before eight. I left the note on the coffee table in the living room and grabbed my gray hoodie. I used the back door so that the alarm wouldn't wake Sleeping Beauty upstairs. I put on my shoes outside as a precaution and walked through the backyard to the old gate. I would have jumped over the gate, like usual, but I was still sore. I opened the surprisingly quiet gate and walked through our neighbor's yard. She was sitting in her rocking chair on her back porch. She just smiled and waved at me as a passed through.

Once on the sidewalk, I started walking towards the memorial park down by the middle school. The sky was already an array of colors as the day faded. It was almost seven. My dad was probably starting his car and heading home. My mom on the other hand had already called saying that she was going to work some overtime and wouldn't be home before nine. She didn't like working late, but she knew she had to make up for the work she missed earlier this week.

There was a huge hill right before getting to the park. These little kids were riding down the hill on wagons and skateboards. Their parents and older siblings were watching from their front porches and the bottom of the hill in the case of needed medical attention. I sat on the side of the hill and watched them. One of the girls watching from a porch came up to me.

 

"Aren't you that kid that got beat up earlier this week?" She said.

 

I nodded. She sat down for a minute. She put out her hand and I shook it.

 

"My name is Emily." There was a yellowing bruise on her inner arm. "I'm Alex," I said.

 

"You know, you're kind of famous at school still. We all think that you're kind of a hero." She said smiling.

 

"I heard." I replied. She pushed her hair out of her face with her hand. I looked at the bruise again. She saw me look. "Don't worry, this was just an accident. I tripped up the stairs at home." She said reassuringly. I felt better knowing that. We both sat there watching the kids riding down the hill again. One of the boys rolled down the hill and was giggling all the way down.

 

"You know," she said, "I think you are a hero."

 

I looked at her. "Really?"

 

She just nodded. "I was bullied a lot last year. I wasn't physically bullied, but there is a scar in my mind from what these girls said to me. They made me feel like I was nothing."

 

I should have known that she was a victim in some way. "I'm sorry." I said. I felt sorry for her. "But you know that they were wrong, right? You're not nothing, you're you."

 

She nodded. "I know."

 

One of the adults on the porch called out for the kids to come inside. Emily stood up.

 

"I have to go. It was nice meeting you Alex," she walked up towards the porch before turning back, "and thank you for saying what you said."

 

She turned back and started walking back to the porch. All the kids were now gathering up their jackets and wagons and climbing the steep incline up the hill. Some of the parents were helping them up. I stood up and was about to leave when I heard Emily call out to me.

 

"Be careful walking around here. I've seen Jason and some other bad kids around the area when it gets dark." She called.

 

I told her I would try to be careful and that I wouldn't stay out that late. She looked reassured as she went inside. I walked back to the side and started for the park again.

 

The reason I was heading for the park was the cause of an old habit. When I was still a victim my freshman year, I used to walk to the park at night and watch the reflection of the moon against the small duck pond in the patch of woods behind the playground. The only way there was a dirt path only a couple feet across. Not that I was finding myself back in the grip of past experience through new scars, I guess my mind just began to drift back to the duck pond. I wondered how much it had changed over the years.

 

The sun was almost out of sight, but the colors still remained. The park was just a silhouette against the purple sky. The only other creature at the park beside me was a middle-aged woman walking a pampered little purebred, but she was just getting up to leave. I kept my hands in my pockets and zipped up my hoodie against the sudden wind trying to sneak up through the half-naked trees. I searched for the invisible path through the maze of towering oaks. The path was marked by the imprint of a leaf that had become stuck in the mud path before it dried up. I followed the path through the woods to the pond. The water in the pond was clear and reflected the colors of the sky above.

There were a couple of ducklings chasing each other across the pond. Their mother was sitting on the edge watching them carefully. There was a wooden bench on the side of the pond closest to the mother duck. I was careful not to scare her as I sat down. The bench creaked under me, and I froze and looked at the mother duck. She turned and looked at me, but then just looked back at her ducklings. I sat there watching the ducklings with her. One of the ducklings was smaller than the other. The bigger one was chasing him around and trying to nip at him. The mother swam out to them when the bigger duckling started playing rough. I checked the time on my phone. It was almost eight. I stood up before thinking about the mother duck, but she didn't fly away. Instead, she just looked at me as if she wondered if something was wrong. As I walked away, I saw her turn back to her ducklings again.

 

The sun was gone and the stars were out. The park was empty. I made my way to the sidewalk and stare at my shadow on the concrete. It would grow and shrink with every car that passed me by. The wind whistled through the bare branches of the small, neatly trimmed trees equally distributed down the edge of the road.

I was about to turn down my street when I heard someone running towards me. I turned just in time to see a boy run past me. He sounded like he was almost out of breath, but he didn't stop. It was almost like he thought he was going to die if he did. I didn't see his face before he passed. I watched him run out of site. I was curious of why he was running. That's when I heard someone else behind me. "Out of the way!" he yelled. I turned to see that the runner was Jason. He looked determined. I was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I wanted to move out of the way, but my feet were stuck in place. Instead of going around me, Jason forcefully pushed me off the sidewalk and into the ditch.

My hand hit the rocks at the bottom of the ditch. I carefully stood up and examined my wounds. My hands were covered in scratches, and there was a gash in my arm by my elbow. My clothes were caked in dirt and mud. I wiped off the dirt and climbed out of the ditch.

Now I knew why that boy was running, or at least what he was running from. I started to race after them, but I stopped. I promised my mom and Rachel that I wouldn't get myself back into trouble. But I also promised myself that I wasn't going to let another kid become a victim. I argued with myself. Was I going to be safe and just go home and call the police, or was I going to stop being just a bystander and do something. That's when I thought about something that made me sick to my stomach. Jason had nothing out here that would keep him from killing this boy. He was expelled after the incident at lunch and his parents had pretty much disowned him, at least that's what I heard from my dad. It was decided. I started running again and kept an eye on my surroundings for something that would help me find them.

I was starting to think that I would be too late. This thought made me feel sicker. That's when I saw two sets of fresh footprints through the dirt and down a small hill to a water fountain. I couldn't see anybody in the dark, but I could hear whimpers in the dark under one of the trees. I ran down the hill, almost tripping over a root sticking out of the ground. I started seeing the silhouettes against a tree. I ran closer. The whimpering and heavy breathing became louder. My heart was racing. I kept thinking, what am I doing? I could see Jason and the boy clearly now. The boy had curled up into a ball and Jason was standing over him kicking him in the ribs. The boy saw me and mouthed the words "help me".

 

I yelled at Jason. "Let him go Jason!"

 

Jason stopped momentarily and turned to me. He started laughing. "Wait your turn." He cackled.

 

Do something, I yelled at myself, don't just stand there! I grabbed the back of Jason's shirt and pulled him down.

 

"I said leave him alone!" I yelled.

 

He stood back up and looked me straight in the eye. He looked angry but then grinned as he reached for something in his back pocket. He pulled out a pocketknife and smile.

 

"And I told you to wait your turn."

He flipped open the knife and turned it around in his hand. I couldn't take my eyes off the blade as it gleamed in the low light. He was laughing. My heart was beating loud in my ears like a drum beat.

Jason backed away from the boy and started toward me. I started backing away and up the hill. I didn't take my eyes off him.

"You picked the wrong person to mess with Walker. There's nothing stopping me from stabbing your ass right now." He cackled.

I was thinking about how I could get him away from the boy. I backed away a bit more. He matched my movements.

"I know, you probably will," I tried to grin through my fear, "but you'll have to catch me first."

His smile turned sour as I started to run up the hill. Half way up the hill I turned to see if he was still behind me. He was. I started to smile. It worked! I turned back again to see how far he was. I didn't see the root infront of me and I tripped.

I fell against my shoulder on the ground. I turned so that I was on my back just in time to see Jason about to jump on me. I put my feet up and kicked him down before the knife in his hand could make contact with my skin. He fell to the ground. I stood up and held my shoulder.

I started running down the sidewalk away from my street. Jason's footsteps sounded almost like an echo of mine. I could hear heavy breathing but soon realized that the breathing was my own. I darted across the street and down the sidewalk along a row of cookie-cutter houses. My chest was starting to burn and I could feel my energy being drained. Jason was getting closer as I started losing speed. He was going to catch me any moment now. I looked back and saw the knife gleaming with every street light.

Jason was right behind me. I could feel him trying to grab hold of the back of my shirt. Chills went up my spine. I pushed myself to run faster, but he had already taken hold of the back of my collar. He pulled forcefully on the collar, sending me to the ground. I hit my head against the concrete. Jason stood staring down at me with a menacing grin spreading across his face.

"Time to finish what I started." He cackled.

He drew his leg back and brought it forcefully against my side. The sharp pain in my side rippled through my body. I cried out through my teeth. I rolled to one side, but Jason pushed me back. He started kicking me again with less intensity, but it still felt unbearable. After a minute he stopped. I was coughing; it hurt to breath. He started walking slowly to my other side. He was laughing.

"I'm surprised you're lasting this long. I had just started on that little loser back there and he already looked like he was gonna croak right there," he pointed back towards the hill, "and yet, you're still concious."

He pulled back his leg like the hammer on a revolver. "Let's see if you survive round two."

His leg swung down towards me like a pendulum. I rolled off the sidewalk and into the road. The momentum behind Jason's leg when it missed brought him the ground. It was just like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football.

I stood up swiftly and ran down the street, holding my throbbing side. I couldn't run very fast, and Jason was already gaining speed. I told myself not to look back. I was limping along as fast as I could. Jason's footsteps sounded close but I didn't know how close.

"Walker!" He yelled, almost in my ear.

I made the mistake of turning towards him. He was only feet away. He swung at my face and his fist made contact with my left cheek. I put my hand to my cheek and turned to him again. I put up my arms in defense. I looked through the space between my arms just in time to see him swing the blade. I ducked in time, but I lost my balance and fell to the ground. He started running towards me, still swinging the knife. I had to keep jumping back to avoid him. My foot caught the curb and I fell backwards.

Jason stood over me still swinging the knife. The knife was getting closer to my face. I put my hand up to protect my face. My hand started to sting as the blade cut across my palm. Jason stopped and turned the blade around watching the blood drip from the sharp tip. I put my hand down and watched the red overtake my palm.

Jason was so distracted by the blood that I was able to tiptoe a couple feet away before his focus turned back me. I was his limping prey and he was the predator preparing for a final, fatal pounce. He lounged at me, but his hands only found the air. I was running down the sidewalk again with him panting behind me. My hand was bleeding profusely, so held it up against my shoulder to try and stop the blood loss. 

I was losing speed again. Seeing that I was near my neighbors house, I cut through her front yard and ducked behind the bushes against the house nextdoor. My breathing was loud and heavy; I put my uninjured hand across my mouth to muffle the noise. I crouched down against the brick exterior of the house. Jason's monstrous shadow against my neighbors house made me flinch. He was slowing to a halt right in front of the house. I started through the yard towards me. I stopped breathing and sat as still as stone to increase my invisibilty. He stood near the bush tightening his hand around the knife. He looked around and then stared toward my house. He whispered "coward" under his breath. The word stung like my hand.

"Did you hear me Walker?! You're a damn coward, and you have always been a coward!" He screamed. "Why don't you finish what you started here?! Why don't you come over here and stand up as you did back there?! I'm heading back to that kid and I'm gonna tell him that his so-called savior turned out to be nothing more than huge coward!"

He stood there watching my house. I saw someone peek through the curtains on my back window. It looked like Rachel. Jason saw the curtain move.

"I see you Walker!" He shouted, "I see you, you damn coward!" He put emphasis on coward.

I hated that word so much.

Rachel closed the curtains. The bedroom light turned on in my neighbors house. Jason turned and ran back down the street.

I stood back up when I knew he was down the street. My neighbor opened her curtains and looked at me. She looked frightened by my injuries and reached for her phone. I watched her dial 9-1-1. I heard a door open and someone calling my name. Rachel was standing in the doorway.

"What the hell is going on?!" She saw my bruises and covered her shocked expression with her hand.

I thought about the boy back by the trees and I bolted forward still holding my side. Rachel called after me.

"Where are you going Alex?!"

But I was already down the street. Knowing that Jason had a headstart, I started running as fast as I could after him. He was rounding the street corner when I got back on the sidewalk. I yelled his name, trying to get his attention. He glanced back my way, but he didn't stop. I rounded the corner after him. I saw something coming at me from the corner of my eye. Jason's fist made a connection with my temple. I felt myself falling to the ground; my ears were ringing and my head felt numb. I put my hand to my temple. My fingers were red when I pulled away. Jason appeared out of the shadow of the building. He was cackling  under his breath.

"I knew I could coax you out," he grinned, "you're too much of a martyr to let that weakling get clobbered."

He circled around me cracking his knuckles and planning his next move.

"That's your biggest flaw Alex, you're too nice. You think that maybe you can start a change in the world by protecting these geeks and losers. You're just standing in the way of the natural order."

I sat up and wiped the blood from my head. "You're wrong, Jason."

Jason knelt down with his face an inch away from mine. 

"I know I'm right. I know everything that goes on in the stupid little head of yours." He pushed his index finger hard  into the center of my forehead.

I pushed his finger away. "You were right about that, but that's not the whole plan." I stood up carefully; my legs still felt weak. "That was my first plan, but lately, I was thinking about how I was going to accomplish this task." I limped over to the building and leaned against the cool brick wall. I could tell that I had Jason's full attention now. "There's one positive outcome of being a martyr to a bunch of bullied kids."

"And what's that?" Jason cackled nervously.

"People look at you as a role model. They started to think 'hey, if he can stand up to those jerks then I can too,' and they feel more confident. But wait, that's not all. They start finding others like them and get together; that way they're never alone, which makes them less scared of guys like you."

Jason's face went red. He ran at me full force cursing my name. He tried punching me in the stomach, but I blocked his shot. He pushed me to the ground and kicked me in the side. I watched him pull his knife out of his back pocket and taunt me with it. "Why don't I give you a new scar on your face to match your hand." He cocked back his hand and tightened his grip on the blade. The glow of the street light behind me gleamed in the steel blade. 

I looked into Jason's eyes as I laid with my back pushed against the blacktop. All I saw was hatred. There was no sign of hesitation in his eye; no reason or hope for him to pause. I knew that if I didn't do something soon, I was a dead man. I shifted to the side and pushed Jason's arm out from under him. I rolled to the side as he fell to the ground. He hit the pavement face first. The knife fell from his hand and scraped against the ground.

I stood up quickly to get the upper hand. Jason rolled onto his side and put his hand to his nose. There was blood on the concrete. He sat up and wiped the blood  from his face. I looked down at the knife still gleaming from the street lights. Jason went to reach for the blade, but I kicked it away before he could grab it. The blade slid into the shadow of the brick building and was engulfed by the darkness. I stood over Jason; the tables had been turned. The power felt odd. Jason was just watching the path of the blade with blood running down his chin. He looked back up at me. His cursed through his teeth as he stood up. I stepped back by default, but then I took two steps forward, decreasing the distance between us.

Jason wiped the blood one more time, leaving a red stain on his jacket sleeve. "What now, mr. hero?"

I took another step forward. "I just want you to back off and leave these kids alone."

"And what are you going to do to enforce that, huh?" he cackled.

"I'll fight you. Let's make it an even fight and keep weapons out of it."

He laughed in my face. "How is a coward like you going to win in a fight against me?"

I took a couple steps to the right. Jason followed my moves and stayed facing me. The only way that I would make it out is if I  I distracted him. I decided I would try to take away his power. "I going to win either way."

He stopped laughing. His eye widened. "What do you mean that you'll win either way?"

I snickered. "If I were to beat you in a fight, then you lose and leave us alone. If you kill me, which going by the  fact that I pretty much ruined your life with that last fight you probably would, then you would go to jail because the police should be here soon and there are witnesses that saw your face. And if you were to run from the fight, you'll be a coward. It's that simple."

 He stopped for a minute and just stared at me. I saw him ball his hands into fists so tight until his knuckles were white. Well, atleast I tried. I squared up and prepared for the fight. I was waiting for him to speak, or throw the first punch. He just started laughing again.

"What's so funny?"

He put his hands up. "I have nothing to lose. My family already hates me. They wouldn't give two shits if I went to jail." He kept opening and closing his hands. "How bad could it be, right." Jason lunged forward at me with his right hand cocked back ready to go. I moved out of the way, barely missing his fist. Jason lost his footing in the lunge and tripped. I squared up again and waited for him to get up. He looked at me and I could see the anger in his eyes. He started running at me. I didn't have time to move out of the way and got tackled to the ground. I landed on a root and hurt my back. The pain made it hard to get up. When I tried to get to my feet, Jason kicked me in the ribs. As I laid there in pain, Jason cracked his knuckles. He sat on top of me, holding my arms under his knees. 

"Did you really think you had a chance?" He threw a punch that connected with my cheek. "You of all people should know that weaklings like you and all of your friends should just shut up and accept your fate. But for some stupid reason, you thought it would be a good idea to be brave."

As he talked, I wriggled my right hand free. I could tell he was getting ready to throw another punch. "It was worth a try." He cocked his hand back again and let it go. I saw it coming towards the left side of my face and moved my head to the right at the last moment. His fist conncected with the concrete to the left of my face. I could hear his knuckles cracking. Jason pulled his hand up and cradled it. He was distracted by the pain so I made my move. Quickly, I jerked to the left, knocking him down. He kept holding on to his hand, oblivious of what was happening. The tables were turned. I quickly sat on top of him, holding his good hand down. He looked up at me. His eyes were watering. His expression looked angry put His eyes just looked tired and defeated. I throw a couple punches and then a couple more. All the anger that had been building up in me was coming out. I kept throwing punches and lost count. I felt like I couldn't stop and then I was pulled off of him by Emily. She pulled me away and held onto me.

"It's over Alex, it's over." She said.

I could hear sirens in the distance. They were coming closer. I looked over to Jason. He was out cold on the concrete. I crawled over to him and checked his pulse; he was still breathing. His face was bloody and swelling. I checked my own face. There was a cut on my forehead and my cheek was swelling. My hand was still bleeding. I tore off a piece of my shirt and wrapped it around my hand. As the sirens got louder, I remembered the boy at the trees. I got to my feet, holding my side and started running back.

"Where are you going?" Emily cried out.

"There's another boy down the street. Stay here I'll be right back." I ran down the street and back to the trees. The boy was still there, leaning against a tree. I ran down to him. 

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'll be fine." I grabbed his him and pulled him to his feet carefully. He leaned against me for support. 

"Is it over?" He asked.

I nodded. "Jason won't be bothering you anymore."

I saw a small smile come across his face. "Thank you." When we arrived back by Emily, the ambulance was already taking Jason away and the police were asking Emily questions. They saw us coming. The police came forward and helped the boy into the other ambulance. I sat down on the curb with Emily. An officer came up and asked me what happened. I told him the truth. 

"I saw Jason bullying this kid and I intervened. Jason didn't like that and he came after me and I hit him."

"You're story seems to line up with her story. You should have been more careful."

"I know." The officer guided me into the back of the ambulance with the boy. Emily stayed with me the whole time. They stitched up my hand and my forehead and gave me some ice for my bruises. They told my that the boy only had some bruising and a broken rib, that he would be fine. Jason had broken his nose and hand and had to get stitches for the lacerations on his face. The officer who questioned me told me that they had found his knife and that he had been found guilty for battery.

My parents arrived as soon as they heard I was in the emergency room. They were a bit angry that I left the house, but they were relieved when they saw that I was okay. I promised them that I wouldn't get into any more fights. The doctors made me stay over night for observation. My parents gave Emily a ride home and my sister stayed with me. In the morning, I woke up to a room full of baloons and cards. They all said "thank you." One was from Steven, the boy from the night before. Another was from Michael and another was from Emily. The rest were from kids at my school. I recognized most of the names as people that I had helped to the nurse's office. Some of the cards were from parents and siblings. My sister was still sitting in the chair by my bed.

"They all think you're a hero. I think they're right." She smiled and then turned back to the book she was reading.

In the beginning, I just wanted to make a difference and, in the end, I was a hero to the bullied kids in my area. This was the change I wanted. Sure, I didn't make a worldwide impact but some of the smallest things can set off the biggest reactions.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.10.2012

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Widmung:
To the people who helped me through school when I was bullied and to anyone who has been bullied or is being bullied, just know that you're not alone.