. cutting ties with all the lies .
A fight.
A green sweatshirt worn in hopes of reminding others of a promise not to be broken.
A snide remark; the day-to-day harassing of a nerd, a brain, a "weirdo."
A wave of tiny tears, like the morning rain you can barely feel but know is there, falling onto pale cheeks.
A whimper of pain.
A growl; the warning from a soul dared to be reckoned with and with the bronze to defend himself.
"Back off."
"What the hell's your problem?"
"Back off, Jordan."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Leave Brian alone, Jordan."
A stunned silence.
A screech of the chair as another boy stood up and made his way over to the confrontation.
"What the fuck are you doing, shit face?"
A wall, a barrier, a little redheaded nurse in the background treating the fallen soldiers wounds.
A clap, clap, clap, started by a figure in black.
A small "Thank you," whimpered at the end of it all.
A cocky grin and a "What are friends for?"
. and i do not think anyone knows what the hell they're doing here .
Written to the song "Jumper" by Third Eye Blind.