It wasn’t a secret that I aced every studies in school except of course, maths. I’m hated for it. They make me sit alone in every single part of the school. I was friendless and I honestly didn’t mind, maybe even enjoy it sometimes. Some bullied me, some let me be, a few acknowledged me without beating me up.

And so, when I dashed out of that class and to second period, fate couldn’t help but have some old grudge against me and sync the new kid’s schedule with mine. Of course he chose the seat beside me, again. He bugged me the whole class and thankfully after those two periods, I’m finally free from the continuous word vomit from him.

Lunch eventually came around and like every day, the bullying started. “Yo bitch! Why don’t you do us a favor and get the fuck out of this school?”

I ducked my head and said nothing.

“How about you shut up and get a life?!” An annoyingly familiar voice shouted. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t meant for me.

I kept my head down even though a set of footsteps fell in step beside me. “Why are you defending me? Shut up!” I hissed quietly at him, still not picking my head up. As if to answer my question slash demand, a voice cut in, grabbing my arm, manicured nails digging into the skin of my forearm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing by clinging to him?!”

I stayed silent, maybe she mistook it as me being completely petrified, if yes then good but the sting from having her nails dig into my arm is just building up my annoyance.

“Are you ignoring me, bitch?!”

Oh goody, she didn’t think I was scared. This time I tried to make a small short whimper to try and avoid any further problems. I’ve had enough problems to keep myself busy for a life time. I gagged at myself for even attempting to make myself look weak; such a disgrace.

Slap.

“That’ll teach you a lesson.”

I felt heat warming up my left cheek and it took everything in me to reign in my conscience and without my acknowledgement, my fingers curled up on their own accord and my hands trembled as I tried to hold in the urge to beat the living shit out of her.

“That’s enough, Maddison!”

Shut up, dude. Just shut up.

He didn’t get the message and kept going. “That was over the line! You can’t go around slapping people!” He’s making a scene. My inner self taunted in a sing song voice. Not blind, bro. I ain’t blind.

As Maddison turned to look at him, I took that chance and scurried out of there. As I ran, I could hear Maddison’s screams probably because the new kid said something she didn’t like.

“No! You do not defend her! She’s the outcast! She doesn’t belong and she deserved whatever is thrown at her!”

I shook my head as the last sentence tried to slither in my thoughts. That’s not happening here, anywhere but here. I kept running until I reached the backyard of the school. Sitting down on the beat up bench, I set my face in my hands and rubbed my face a few times. The last statement hit a nail but I refuse to show any further weakness than what was necessary.

I started drifting to those times where I would argue with the hot-headed guy every morning on who deserves more waffle than the other. I guess the stubborn trait runs in the family. Unconsciously, a small, weak smile crept onto my face and I felt my eyes water as reality came crashing in once more, ruining the beautiful memory like it always does. I would never be able to make those memories or relive it in anyway ever again. Not when the guy I made those memories with has already been called upon by God himself. I missed his smile, his laugh and the way he’d tease me when I’d spend too much time on my phone.

“What was she talking about when she said that you deserved everything that was thrown your way?”

I sighed when I heard his voice and as usual, kept my head down, letting my hair cover my face like a curtain. It helped separate me and the cruelty of the outside world. Why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?

“Nothing, she’s just-” I cut myself off, not knowing what to say. Drowning in hate? Or was it grief? Out to get me because I’m the reason her ex died in a car crash? It’s true though, Maddison used to be a sweet girl; she dated my brother and was close to me. Until that faithless night occurred and she lost all of those traits, engulfed by her own grief and loss. She blames me and I can’t even hate her for it. Even I hate myself, why would she show any other emotion towards me? There are a lot of words that you could use to describe Maddison but once you know the true reason why she grew so heartless, nothing seemed to be suiting.

“She’s just..”

“Nothing, forget it.”

He looked at me funny but let it drop. “So... You seemed awfully alone.” He stated.

“Yeah, you don’t get many friends when you’re hated by the queen bee around here; that is probably why you should leave me to sulk. Walk along, minggle with the popular people. Don’t give me that look. I know they’ve offered you things by now.”

I could only assume that he was stunned into silence at how fast the conversation took that turn since I didn’t bring my head up the whole time. “Well, I’d say it was nice talking to you but then I’d be lying.”

I stood up, holding my breath until I am out of earshot before releasing it. I was tempted to look back but whacked myself mentally. Why would you want to look? You don’t deserve the attention. I squashed every tiny plants of hope that blossomed and made my way back to the building with my usual cold eyes.

That little girl was gone and in her place, I was born. The twinkle of mischief that people would usually find when they look into my eyes have diminished the moment I got a glimpse of the broken body of my beloved brother that night.

His head was bleeding, probably split open. I remembered seeing his right leg being in an odd angle and his arm had a nasty gash, my best guess was from the shards of glass but I couldn’t be sure, I remembered watching his limp form was placed gently on a stretcher and a mask was placed on his mouth through glassy eyes. I remember how cold the night had felt, how the goose bumps had crawled onto every part of my body and how that chill ran down my spine, as if my conscience knew that he wasn’t going to make it, no matter how much I didn’t want to believe it.

Last but not least, I remembered the only thought that circled my mind. He’s on that stretcher because of me. I murdered my brother. It should’ve been me, the person that should have been on that stretcher, unconscious. Instead my brother had to suffer that fate. Bryant didn’t deserve it.

I sucked in a breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves and the thoughts that was racing in my head. When I was sure, that I was nowhere close to breaking down, I braced myself for what was to come once I stepped foot into the building.