I woke up coughing my lungs out the next morning. Every single cough made my beaten-up body tremble in pain. My wish of not being in pain didn’t come true, no matter how many times I’d cried it out loud during the night.

I ate an apple on my way to school, trying to ignore how sick I was. I had to stop for a moment and lean against a tree when I started coughing and kept going when it calmed down. I couldn’t stop. I feared that if I stopped, it would be the end of me.

I was that close to giving up for good.

Half an hour later, when I walked through the silent schoolyard, I felt like I had just accomplished something great just by making it there. I hid behind the bushes near the back entrance to wait for the first period to start. I had almost an hour to waste, but it was better for me to arrive early than be seen by my bullies.

How pathetic was that?

I opened my bag and grabbed my black notebook. I glanced at the first page, the one with the word, stupid, written all over it before opening the next blank page.

“Pathetic,” I muttered out loud.

It was pathetic how I had to hide from others all the time. I was pathetic for not standing up for myself. I was pathetic for getting so shaken up by a stupid prank. I was pathetic when I cried, and when I wished for things that would never happen. I was pathetic at school, pathetic at home, and too pathetic to kill myself. Even my cuts were pathetic. Sometimes they didn’t even bleed.

No one would love someone as pathetic as me.

I had written the word ‘pathetic’ a few dozen times on the second page. I kept staring at the words, savoring them, memorizing each curve of each letter, so I’d never forget how pathetic I was.

Then I closed the book and put it back in my bag, letting out a deep sigh while I closed it. It was a mistake. I started coughing again, and soon I got dizzy since I couldn’t get enough air into my burning lungs. I tried to be quiet, fearing I was giving out my hiding place, but it was too late already. When the fit finally ended, and I was able to breathe, I heard a voice from the other side of the thick bushes.

“So this is where you’re hiding.”

My heart froze. I froze. Even my mind froze when I recognized that voice.

It was Deon. Of all people, it was he who had heard me.

“Come out,” he spoke with a neutral voice.

It was clear he was talking to me, so there was no point in staying in my hiding place anymore. Deon would drag me out if I didn’t come out on my own. So, I crawled under the branches, and as soon as he saw me, he grabbed me by my hood and pulled me up on my feet.

“That’s a pretty nasty cough you have,” he said with a smirk.

He didn’t release me, not even when I found my balance. I wanted to ask what he wanted from me, but when I looked up at him, I lost my voice. He was truly intimidating, and the look in his eyes was menacing.

“That sucks for you – I wouldn’t have noticed you lurking there if you weren’t sick,” he continued.

“I k-know,” I stuttered.

“Say what?” Deon asked, his hold on me growing tighter.

I lost my voice again. If he knew how many times I’d seen him taking girls to his favorite hiding place at the back of the school, he’d get really mad at me. He’d passed by my hiding place countless times before, and this was the first time I got caught. I thought I could use that information as my leverage, but I didn’t have the guts to blackmail him.

Deon squinted his eyes and pulled me closer to his face. I whimpered in fear without being able to keep my voice down, and that seemed to satisfy him. He took a step back and quickly looked around, making sure no one was watching.

Then, without a word, he started dragging me towards the back entrance, but he didn’t take me inside. Instead, he continued towards the corner at the other end, making me really scared. There was nothing behind that corner, except the tall iron fence surrounding the place, making it a dead end. That was the place where Deon took his girls – where no one could see them.

And he was definitely not taking me there so he could make out with me. No, it was going to be much more painful for me.

He pulled me around the corner and tossed me against the wall. I gasped in pain and he laughed at my reaction.

“That wasn’t even hard,” he said.

I couldn’t help it. I’d been tossed, kicked and hit so many times in the past couple of days that it felt like all my bones were nothing but dust anymore.

“Please…” I whimpered in pain. “Don’t hurt me.”

He chuckled lightly and lifted his hand. First, I thought he was going to hit me, but he just poked me in the stomach. I let out a sharp breath out of surprise, but when he poked me again, hitting my rib, it hurt so much I wanted to cry.

Deon snorted at my reaction but stopped poking me. He took a better grip on me while he pulled my shirts up, revealing the bruises I had.

“So, you’re a punching bag,” he noted and continued, “That looks painful.”

“Leave me alone,” I whispered.

“What was that?” he asked, leaning closer to me.

“L-Leave…” was all I managed to say, and he chuckled at my futile attempt.

“Don’t be rude,” he said and let go of my shirts.

I tugged them back down while keeping my eyes on the ground. I was embarrassed that he saw me like that.

Deon didn’t say a word in the next few moments. I knew he was looking at me, and when I lifted my eyes to see him, he had a calculating look on his face.

“You know, you still owe me one for saving your ass,” he said eventually.

“W-What do you w-want?” I stuttered, looking back down again.

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he said and put his arm around my shoulders. “In the meantime, I think that you and I should be friends,” he continued, and my heart skipped a beat out of fear.

Deon started leading me back towards the entrance. His arm never left my shoulder, and I knew in my heart that I was in deep shit this time. And I was scared to death. He forced me to walk right next to him when we stepped inside the school. I was just a jittery mess; I kept stumbling on my own feet, and every time he made any sudden movements, I flinched in fear.

“That would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking annoying,” Deon grunted after I jumped away from him just because he was brushing his long hair away from his face.

I couldn’t help it. I had no idea what he was going to do with me, but I knew it wasn’t anything good or friendly. I felt like I was a sheep, willingly walking towards the slaughterhouse. I was so afraid that when we finally reached our class, and Deon forced me to sit next to him at the back of the room, I was almost crying.

“Now–” Deon turned to look at me, and I flinched, holding my bag against my chest. “Can you just fucking chill? I swear, if you shit your pants…”

I shook my head vigorously. “I… I… I… w-won’t…” I stuttered, but my panicking mind didn’t come up with the words to speak.

Deon looked at me like I was out of my mind. He had no idea I really was losing my sanity because of him.

“Whatever,” he muttered and turned to look at the teacher.

I couldn’t see anything around me. I didn’t even know what class we were at. All I could do was sit in my seat, pressing my bag tightly against my stomach. I couldn’t even breathe when I was sitting so close to Deon.

“Mr. Williams, where are your books?” Our teacher, who turned out to be Mrs. Ellis, asked with an annoyed voice.

I turned to look at her slowly. Everyone in the class was staring at me and Deon, and I could see the question in their eyes. They were wondering why Deon was sitting next to me. Then I saw Sean, and he looked angry as hell. He had a black eye and a busted lip, and my first instinct was to look at Deon. His face was fine, but he had a few bruises around his knuckles.

“Mr. Williams!” Mrs. Ellis shouted, and I snapped my head back in her direction. “If you don’t have your books, then don’t bother showing up in my class!”

“I… I…” I stammered and hurried to open my bag.

I could hear the silent snickering all around me, and I blushed in embarrassment.

“Do you have your books?” Mrs. Ellis asked angrily.

“Y-Yes, I h-have…” I mumbled, but I was too nervous to remember what class she was teaching. I wanted to start crying, and I almost did when I remembered the things she had said about me. “I ha-have them here s-somewhere…”

“Here they are,” Deon said and grabbed my tattered English books from my bag, showed them to her, and then slammed them on my desk. “We’re fine now,” he continued.

Mrs. Ellis glared at us for a moment and then turned around without saying a word. I peered at Deon. He wasn’t paying attention to me. What he just did was the kindest thing anyone had done for me in a long, long time.

“Mr. Williams!” Mrs. Ellis shrieked, freezing my heart all over. “This is the last warning I’m giving you! If you have your books, then OPEN THEM!”

Her face turned dark-red when she yelled the last part at the top of her lungs. I hurried to obey her, hoping she wouldn’t kick me out. The other students were laughing at me without even trying to hide it anymore. I kept my eyes at the book. I didn’t want anyone to see my tears.

I was so tired of it all. Quitting school wouldn’t solve anything. I knew it at that moment. Maybe I should just hang myself – I already had the rope. My life would never get any better, no matter what I did. Mrs. Ellis had just reminded me of that. Even the adults hated my guts.

“Page sixty-seven.”

I flinched at the sound of Deon’s whisper, and I peered at him from the corner of my eye.

“Just open it,” he hissed at me without looking in my direction.

“Mr. Williams!” I jumped when Mrs. Ellis screamed my name again. “Did you hear what I said? I swear to God, if you can’t tell me what page we’re on–”

“Sixty-seven,” I said without hesitation. “We’re on page sixty-seven,” I repeated, hoping Deon hadn’t lied to me.

 Mrs. Ellis wrinkled her nose in disgust, but then turned her back on me once again. I let out a relieved sigh and opened the right page.

“That makes it two,” Deon whispered, but when I turned to look at him, he was staring at his book.

“What?” I muttered so quietly even I had a hard time hearing myself.

“I’ve saved your ass twice now,” he said under his breath.

I stared at him. He was so focused on his textbook that I started to believe I’d just imagined his words. I wanted to ask why he had helped me. What did he want from me, anyway?

Was he just messing with my head?