Honestly I didn't know what I was expecting.

"Don't go shooting up the school tomorrow, Conner, alright!"

I got punched again. Left gasping for air and cornered into another punch to the gut. It was painful, really painful. I couldn't do anything though, five against one really put in perspective how weak you actually were.

"Come on Tony, you know he ain't gonna do anything! he's too fucking pussy!"

I got a note the other day. Clawing my way out math class I found myself a daunting message in my locker.

A love letter.

I didn't really think at the time, I didn't think logically. I mean, who was blushing over ugly ass me? I was a nobody, had nothing going on for me, No friends and literally no social life to actually make friends.

But I didn't care, life was getting good. Tony and his friends had seemingly forgotten about me. They hadn't jumped me in over a week, and my grades were starting to pick up.

And mom was getting better.

So I made my way up those steps, up onto the school roof. My heart pumping, adrenaline flooding my brain and my hormone driven feelings in chaos.

Only, instead of meeting the cute girl of my wet dreams. I got a fist to the face.

Shit, was it a damn shocker. Bumped me back into the reality I fucking dreaded.

I was born into the life of a Nobody.

I would become a Nobody.

And I will always be a Nobody.

Pretty simple, and I didn't want to believe it. So for the first time since the wicked beatings, since the look of disdain I saw in their eyes. I cried.

__________

That was humiliating

I was laying flat on my back, bruised and fucking pissed. Tony and his underlings left a few minutes ago. I still couldn't move though, my leg was pretty fucked. I'm pretty sure they broke a bone this time.

And I won't be able to say shit.....

(A/n: Important details will be explained later on. Sorry I'm kind of a bad writer, please bair with me! 😅)

Fuck! I can't believe I fell for it

The cringe was real, like a Love letter? A damn, fucking, Love Letter!

How? How did I not see it? I mean, the bitch used a sharpie and didn't even bother to use proper grammar.

"Plz meet me at the skool roof tops 💋"

Dont blame me. I thought she was just quirky or something!

__________

Getting up was like running a 10 mile marathon. It was painful and slow and trying to stand straight just led to me falling over in pain and repeating the snail-pace process all over again.

I really did almost cry halfway through. That left leg of mine was bruised beyond the point to whitch you couldn't see my normal, tanned olive skin.

It did feel broken.

Sharp pain shooting up my shin every time I moved, antagonizing my brain. I urged on, leeching onto the rail down the stairs, practically crawling to my locker and heading out the school gates with a stolen walking cane from the med bay. Something no-one would ask for or notice was missing.

My slow struggle for freedom was indeed slow. So by the time I had made it a few steps away from school, the street lights had lit and the sky had become dark.

I sighed, I had to make my way home quick. Mom would be worried or at least could be..... I only had a little money left so I would need to find myself a job again.

But how would I find a decent paying job in this city? Actully how the fuck would I even find a job? Hartherd is practically infamous for being all slums.

"This is just great....."

...

...

...

* B O O M *

The fuck was that!?

An explosion resonated just a few blocks away from me. An old house (or at least what resembled a house) was blazing and sparking with fire.

"Shit.." I mumbled.

No-one seemed to take the short journey from their houses to figure out what was going on. It didn't surprise me, most of these people learnt that looking for trouble causes them trouble.

The burning house, now that I looked closer at it, looked more like a pile of wood. Held together with rusted nails. It was again, normal for Hartherd residents to live In shacks like that.

The shack was a standard box and looked to be abandon, there was a giant hole at the front for crying out loud! So I turned to leave. No need to put myself in danger for no reason.

"S-someone! please help! my stuff is burning!"

Come on!

I looked back to the burning Shack to see a weird old man dressed in a... Loin cloth?

He was prancing around the shack, which I wish he didn't cause I could see...somethings....

He looked distressed though.....

My phone was broken from my earlier scuffle with Tony and it looked like no-one else in the area wanted to help. I'm no hero, with my dirty mind I'm probably the farthest from one. But something annoying inside me kept telling me, pestering me, to go help...

"Fuck it!"

I huddled over to the burning shack of wood. Thoughts bashing and wishing around my head. I sighed, maybe this was a bad idea, actually, scratch that, this was a dumb idea.

The fuck am I gonna do? Limp with his shit to safety?

Well it too late now the guy already saw me and god damn, weirdo was a complete understatement.

He was old, wearing nothing but a stained grey loin cloth, I could see his skinny, uncomfortably wrinkled body flap around. His head was all hair, litteraly. A frizzed afro and an unkept half-a-meter long beard spraying about with 2 blue eyes shining through....weird.

The fuck did I get myself into....

"Oh thank goodness, my saviour! Please! Help me get my stuff from the fire"

The guy sounded posh. Like a stereotypical English detective. Whitch completely contradicted the soon to be black hobo in front of me.

After a moment of hesitation I looked towards the burning Shack. Like I saw it had a big opening at the front, smoke pouring out.

I huddled forward and took a peek inside. It was pretty much empty, apart from the trash and fire there was almost nothing in there.

Until I spotted, right in the corner, a small pile of boxes that just so happened to be at the very strongest of the flames. Miraculously they weren't caught-a-flame.

"Look....old man, is the stuff in there really worth the trouble?" I started. I didn't want to leave this guy with nothing. Living life in the slums was hard enough, living with nothing was harder.

The old man looked at me with teary blue eyes. Giving me a look I'm way to familiar with...

"My grand-daughters photos....that...and my wallet, are really all I have in there.."

I sighed, chuckling at what I was about to do.

Hopefully I have burn ointment at home.