Zeke had never received such a beating before in his life.
This was years ago, and yet the flashing images of the event that took place that day replayed themselves on a loop as clearly as a memory of yesterday. So vividly horrific with every detail, they can never be erased from his mind.
At the time, it had been about a month since young Zeke moved in with his uncle following his family tragedy. During this period, he was distant towards everyone and quietly kept to himself. But through it all, he was also brutally bullied. Everyone had already known that Zeke's uncle was a mad scientist, and they used that to their advantage. One day, a group of much taller and bigger boys, four of his schoolmates who were just a couple grades older, stopped Zeke on his way home from school.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Gutter Boy!" one of them said.
The bullies stepped forward, blocking Zeke's path. Before he realized it, they had surrounded him, preventing him from any escape.
"���I just want to go home…" Zeke unintentionally whispered under his breath.
"Huh?! What was that, Gutter Boy?!" another bully asked in a loud voice, having heard the little boy who wished he hadn't.
Zeke didn't respond, though. He did not want to repeat what he had said for he knew it would make him sound weak, especially at the perspective of these bigger kids.
"Hey!! I asked ya a question! Answer me!!"
That's when the bullies started shoving poor little Zeke by his shoulders and arms. They laughed as if this was the most fun they've had in years. Zeke was no more than their plaything to toy around with and make themselves feel better by making him feel worse.
He closed his eyes, hoping this would all be over soon, but the bullies started getting other ideas for their human boy toy. One of them suddenly grabbed Zeke by his arms, gripping tightly at the muscle and flesh, while another opened up the boy's backpack and began scavenging around in there. Planning on taking whatever money or valuables he had on him, the bullies were disappointed to as close to nothing as sixty-two cents in one pocket.
"Jeez! Is this really all you have?!"
"Well I ain't gonna accept this!"
Zeke struggled and tried to make a break for it, but it was futile.
"Where do ya think ya'r goin'?!"
"Gotta teach you a lesson now! So just hold still!"
All the bullies gathered in closer, barely giving Zeke any room to breathe. Then one of them knocked him so hard that he fell to the ground face first. Only a second later was when they all started kicking the boy mercilessly and repeatedly. They showed no signs of getting tired, even after several minutes of their feet smashing into Zeke's torso and head. He used his hands and arms to cover his face that was now bleeding from the nose and left cheek upon his collision with the paved sidewalk.
The bullies kept up their cacophony of laughter as this was the best enjoyment they could get all day. They weren't going to stop. They were never going to stop. Not until every shred of hope was drained out of this loser.
"What's going on over here?!"
All of a sudden, a masculine voice rose from one side and disrupted the bullies from their fun. They figured they'd get caught eventually, but there was something wrong with it this time.
As they stared in their direction, Zeke finally worked up the courage to peek through his hands and see who was bold and imprudent enough to stop his bullies dead in their tracks while they're right on top of him. Of course, he was expecting a grownup to have arrived on the scene. But it was nothing like that.
A teenage boy, probably nowhere near manly hood but still also in high school, was standing his ground just a few feet in distance away from the younger boys.
'Why? Why is it just a kid still?!' Zeke thought inside his own mind, 'Why couldn't it have been an adult? Adults are much scarier! Why can't anything just go right?!'
"Good God! What have you guys done?!" the teen asked out loud once he caught a glimpse of Zeke's battered and broken condition.
"What's it to you?!" one of the bullies snapped back, but somehow also sounded nervous.
"Yeah, this ain't none of ya'r business!"
The teen then took a step forward, "You better back off of him right now! What in the hell makes you think you can just beat the living daylights out of a defenseless kid, anyway?!"
He demanded for an answer, but he got none. For the bullies who were a good deal younger than him and only in elementary school were no way looking to pick a fight with some high schooler. They stayed silent and frozen. But when the teen stepped towards them again, they got the message loud and clear, with their tails between their legs and going on turbo speed as they ran away in the opposite direction.
Zeke was shocked to say the least. This was certainly the game changing point that would force him to reconsider his opinions on superiority and fear.
As the bleeding boy watched until his bullies were out of sight, he never expected for the hand of the teen to reach out to him in assist.
"Are you alright, kid? Looks like you took quite the beating there," the teen said, showing genuine concern for Zeke's well-being, which was unbeknownst to Zeke at the time.
Zeke hesitated to take his hand, merely staring at the kind gesture that he could not seem to recognize.
It could have been several minutes before the teen asked, "Do you need a hand to stand up?"
Young Zeke remained silent. He pondered as to what ulterior motives this teen could probably have for helping him. Was he somehow in cahoots with his uncle? Maybe paid to spy on him to make sure he wasn't plotting against the man. It certainly wasn't out of the question, at least not in Zeke's naïvely overactive, bewildered mind.
"Hello?! Earth to you, kid! Can you hear me?!" the teen started to wonder out loud in worry, "Can you understand me? Jesus, did those little punks give you a concussion?! I think I'd better call an ambulance!"
Once he heard that, Zeke snapped out of his tranced state and slowly rose to his feet. If there was anything that he knew would tick off his uncle, it's the possibility he cannot work in the laboratory for whatever reason.
"No, no, no! Don't do that! I'm okay!"
"Are you sure? You look really hurt to me."
"I can patch myself up when I get back to my house. It's just a few cuts and bruises."
"But you're still bleeding. What if—"
"No buts, please!"
The two of them stared at each other for a while that felt like an eternity. Zeke expressed desperation and was trying to halt the efforts of receiving help for his injuries that would most definitely result in him getting hurt worse. If only this teen knew.
After a few more moments of due consideration, the teen sighed loudly, "Alright, alright, if it's that important, I won't pry. But you really shouldn't let those other kids get away with what they've done to you. I mean, have they done this before? Do your parents even know?"
'If they knew, they'd have to still be alive first…' Zeke thought inside his own mind.
"I've told them before." Zeke lied.
"Well, I hope they can get a good grip on the situation. Family has to look out for each other, after all, and not let their own get hurt. I guess if that's that then—huh?"
The teen turned away to leave, but Zeke grabbed onto his sleeve, drawn in by what he had said.
"What's up?"
"It's just, what you just said…about family can't let each other get hurt."
"Oh, that's—"
"Does that apply for all family?"
"Sure it does."
"So like, what if a member of that said family is the one hurting his own kind?"
"Wait, what are you trying to say?!"
Uh-oh. Zeke only realized he got caught up in the moment, pulled into the topic of nurturing family, and he told something he shouldn't have. His eyes wide open upon comprehending it, it was already too late to take back his words.
Surely enough, the teen turned back to face the young boy and knelt down to meet his eye level. Trying to make himself as assuring and nonthreatening as possible, seeing as Zeke eventually tried to get away from him, the teen just smiled.
"Hey, listen, we may have just met, but will you promise to take my advice with you wherever you go?" he asked.
Zeke hesitated, but figuring that it would help him get out of there faster, he complied with a head nod.
"Okay then. Never forget that while there can be many bad people in this world, there are just as many good people to make up for it. It's called balance. I'm not saying you have to deal with things the way they are, but can you at least try to make a change about it? Because no one should have to suffer abuse—I mean, what the bad people might dish out at you. Understand?"
Though only a child of seven years, Zeke could grasp exactly what this teen was trying to say. The teen tried to keep it subtle, but Zeke needed no sugar coating on anything. Honestly, he hated the sweet stuff at this point in his life.
In the end, Zeke reluctantly agreed, taking it in as another command like from his uncle.
"Good. I gotta go now, but maybe I'll see you around," the teen rose back to his feet and waved his hand at Zeke as he went back to walking along the city sidewalks.
Zeke watched him until he was out of sight. Wanting to take the strangely kind teen's words to heart, Zeke turned back around with the slight creak of a smile pushing across his lips as he resumed heading for his house.
What did this mean for his future? He could only wait and see.