In certain circumstances, people do things they normally wouldn't do. If faced with a life-threatening situation the course of action they would take would ultimately define their remaining life. Whether that be life-threatening or not. The psyche to do something in these situations is usually associated with a moral conscience to do what is considered 'right'. Understandably, this is not present in all cases since many serial killers probably don't have the fairest ideas of society's moral righteousness.
Unfortunately, the life-changing situation is now what I currently find myself facing as I face my attackers. To my 'surprise', I recognise the voices, as being members of my school's football team. I'm sure this is an isolated incident, but my attackers know me and this puts me in a state of fear which I find hard to control. The question, I'm sure you're wondering, is why they're attacking me. I'm not entirely sure, since I think alcohol is affecting their mental state, but it may have something to do with my recently publicised sexuality. This in no way had been planned by me. I definitely didn't want more derogatory slurs thrown my way. Except my wishes are ultimately ignored when it comes to school gossip when to my utter shock, the whole school knew within the day. Derogatory and demeaning words have been spoken untoward me since I joined my school in year 7 and being almost 18 now, I'm quite sick of them to be honest.
The recent events have only fuelled what they before only speculated and tensions have peaked, albeit undeniably isolated, to the incident I currently face myself in. the three guys, all masked, I don't know individually, but all are members of my schools football team. But also, one of them is also a member of the rugby team and would, to most people, be considered as quite brute-like. Most of my fear is the result of his presence and the damage he could instil.
"You don't deserve a happy life. You should rot in hell you disgusting shit!" Thug number 1 snarled. By this time, I'm trapped against the wall with the thugs surrounding me when thug number 2 pins me against the brick interface. Rather hard and bruise-inducing…
"You make me sick" thug number 2 spat, forcing his face closer to mine, "if you thought you could just get away with being what you are, then you were wrong. I'm surprised no one else has done what we've taken the initiative to do".
By this point, I am so fucking scared for my life that I cannot bring myself to argue about 'choices', and cant the following insults because of the blood rushing through my head. The bloodthirsty nature of these 'hormonal young men' apparently reaches breaking point because the thug-brute starts delivering blows to various places along my body (not excluding my head), to which I promptly lose consciousness.
It seems I never did act on my life-changing situation.