I was running. Twigs snapped underfoot. Briar bushes snagged the loose threads fraying the bottom of my sweater. I cursed again at angry roots and heavy stones that hid, ready to trip me on my dash up the path. Mud streaked my muck covered shorts, worsening the already dusty brown shade. It had been a long, long while since they've been clean anyway. I never had time to spare a thought for cleanliness. Beats of crackling leaves and panting breaths sounded not too far behind me, and I could hear their volume increasing far too quickly for my taste.

I ducked behind a large, rough trunk to my left, taking hold of a low hanging limb to jump and swing myself up off the ground. Thin soles scrambled to find purchase, slipping once, twice before giving me enough leverage to hold still within the cover of the leaves. The scratchy bark shoved splinters into the gashes on my palms, but what's a little pain every now and then? The real concern was the steadily slow bending of the branch under my weight. I probably didn't have much more mass than those fat squirrels I saw lounging above. Trees could be terribly unfair sometimes.

Four rather enraged faces appeared around the path, all of which were panting and red, from either fury or exertion I have no idea.

"Come out, you coward!" one shouted, glaring around as if the trees had personally offended him. Oh, or maybe that was me. I had called his sister a fat cow like twenty minutes ago and then proceeded to punch her in the face. Repeatedly. I have no regrets.

She and her ratty groupies had been after me for ages ever since I wandered here a couple of months ago. From the first moment they caught me dumpster diving for a new pair of shoes behind their school, I became the subject of their torment.

For the most part I could ignore them. They were far below my attention after all. However, It was their eyes more than anything else. I could see their judgement, their scorn, their pity at the pathetic wretch of the town. At first they feigned kindness. Half-eaten sandwiches were thrown my way, always followed by muffled giggles. Nickels found their way rolling into my path. It was charity, they said one time after pushing a greying blue, cast-off jacket into my arms. "Do us all a favor and get rid of those stripes." Screw that, stripes are awesome. It became very obvious very quickly that it was all a game to them.

Despite it all, I could handle their derision for quite a while. My tolerance was impeccable in the face of idiocy, and I knew quite well by then I had no other choice in the matter, but around three hours ago I had snapped. All I wanted was a meal and some peace and quiet. But they had dared to interrupt me...again.

I had gotten lucky today when some fat guy big enough to have his own gravitational field left his lunch behind to answer his chiming cell. Obviously it was mine now. I had ducked under the table right as he looked away, made the grab and sprinted off to enjoy my win. A full stomach, what a wonderful concept. Maybe I could save some of it for dinner tomorrow too, or I could eat it piece by p—bump. I hadn't anticipated plowing into her and her friends.

While I had managed to maintain my balance, my plunder unfortunately fell to the ground. It had been raining terribly the past couple of days, but the clouds decided to break for this afternoon. Thick mud seeped from the grass and globbed into scattered puddles all over the sidewalk, and the food was absolutely ruined.

Then she had to open her incessant mouth. Thinking back, I could not recall all that she said. She had given me that same look as everyone else. How pitiful, it always said taking me in fully and telling me without words that nobody cared.

In an act far too brash and brutish for my taste, I acted without thought. It had been too much. Rearing back my fist, I staggered toward her and smashed it right into her face. She fell back with a gurgling screech. I always had loved that rush. I likely shouted somethings as well, but the feeling of snapping bone and the terrible pain in my own hand was absolutely delicious. I wanted more.

The delayed sound of her friends' gasps joining the chaos snapped me out of my revelry in an instant. When I looked down at her—really looked—I paused for just a moment. It wasn't often I came to physical blows, so seeing the sharp potency of the pain I inflicted threw me ever so slightly. Something in my stomach tightened and my head felt a bit heavy.

I shook it off the ridiculous sensation. She deserved it I told myself. All matter of fluids dripped down her face, blood, snot and tears. How disgusting. It wasn't my fault she was so mean to me first.

One thing I had failed to account for was her older brother's presence in the park as well. Within three seconds of my return to my senses, I had come to the realization that several sprinting figures were on their way over, and I ran.

I was smart enough to see my odds against a crowd of older boys and made my way up into the mountains. The townspeople rarely ventured up this way. Hopefully here, within the tree cover and unfamiliar terrain, they will just walk right past me and return home empty handed.

I ducked behind a conveniently bushy bush.

"Yo! I think I see something over there!"

Yellow stripe was really not a good pattern for camouflage. Apparently plants seemed to hate me just as much as people did because a branch of ivy decided right then was a good time to twine around my foot and not let go. I retched my leg hard enough to feel a cruel tug and hear a pop like a snapped rubber band. They say adrenaline did amazing things to a person, and I could believe it. I barely even felt a twinge at clawed sharply at the natural binding. I was off again before their leader catch a solid grip on my arm.

The chase, however, was not going nearly as well as it had been previously. The mountain was getting steeper, the gravel looser, and I was losing my steam. They must have known this too because like a pack of hounds my faltering pace only sped them on faster. Sooner than I would like, they caught up, cornering me against an outcropping of rocks in front of a steep drop. It looked like I was in for a beating, nothing new there. After getting their anger out, they would probably just leave me here to either lick my wounds or die alone. People were predictable that way.

Might as well try a preemptive strike, some verbal sparring in before they hit back. "Hey big brother, how's your sister? I may have messed with her face a bit, but it's not like she'll look much worse than she normally does right?" Wrong thing to say.

They closed in on me with fists and kicks and a whole lot of pain. It was hard to see anything, but I promised myself I would remember their faces. Every hit I would return one day; every insult they would regret till their dying breaths.

I didn't want to think that it was my fault. That I should have just kept my head down and my eyes closed. It's what I had always done before. I ignored the whispers though and refocused on the fight.

Even in the haze of punches, shouts, and scratches, any dummy could tell who had the upper hand. I fought on regardless. As one tried to grab my right sleeve, I ducked to the left, swerving around him to drive my shoulder into the gut of another. I barked and bit like a mad dog. Hits were exchanged, bruises were painted, and somehow they were held at bay. For a little while at least.

In the heat of the moment, I did not notice one of the larger boys slip out of the fray to come up behind me. Catching one are behind my back he managed to pin me temporarily. The awkwardness of the angle pulled at my muscle, threatening to dislocate the shoulder altogether.

"What are you gonna do now, you little shit?" the largest one taunted. Of course, he had to be the one whose sister messed with me first. Looming over me by a foot and likely several years, he stood foremost in front of his little band. Woodsy brown hair, close set eyes, an averagely strait nose, and gangly limbs just recently stretched into their teen phase, the boy was one of a million. He was normal with his crew of buddies, decent middle-class parents and an annoying kid sister whom he sometimes looked after as any good big brother would. A carefree small town Joe.

I probably hated him more than I did the girl.

He stepped toward me slowly, rubbing at a fresh bruise on his upper left shoulder, until he could bend down inches from my nose. Confident in his victory—as he should be, I had fought hard but was going nowhere in this position—he began to drawl on about I didn't care what. It had something to do with dragging me back to town, apologies, and police stations. Was there something about lawsuits in there?

My mind was focused elsewhere like how I could get out of this little meeting, hopefully throwing one more punch in before I left. I writhed the fingers in his hold, hoping that a good gouge would loosen his grip. The task, aside from encouraging a stronger grip on my arm, proved fruitless.

Since subtle wasn't working, I began to thrash. Anger gave greater fury to my jerks as I hissed abusive threats at every one of them there. They reeled back instinctively from my craze, looking between each other in uncertainty. Was I crazy? Did something snap in my already hacked up brain. I could read these thoughts in their expressions, but even their released grip didn't stop my frenzy.

Now I was too pissed to even see strait. They tried to trap me, force me to do as they commanded. Because they were stronger, more numerous, I had to obey. I refused! People like them never did anything to help me, so how could their selfish, little minds think I would comply with anything they wanted?

I dashed forward across the loose gravel of the terrain, having forgotten my original goal of escape. I latched onto the sleeve of the one who had been speaking and flexed my arm in preparation for a hit when one of his friends tore me off and slammed me away with a harsh slam to my chest.

The defensive burst had been enough to send me rolling along the ground to the edge of some deep chasm in the ground. No one had noticed it there in the heat of the fight. Held still by wary caution, the boys did not approach me as I glared at them through heavy bangs. I was just about to stand and relaunch my attack when an unsteady tremor from below jolted me. The haze of violence tinting my eyes scattered just in time for me to look down and see the ground crumble underfoot. Gravity took command, pulling the rock and dirt as well as me down into the previously unseen hole.

Unlike the pebbles that hurdled deep down into the sucking depths, I had the chance to flail about. Desperately clutching for any hope I could find, a thick root protruding from the wall snagged my wrist and jolted me to a stop.

I could still see the rim of the hole barely a yard or two above my head. There was no way I could reach that alone. My heart sank. I would have to call for help from those dummies. Undoubtedly they saw me fall, so they should still have been nearby. But…

A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. I hurt them pretty badly just a minute ago. That was ridiculous though. Surely they wouldn't wish me dead for a couple of scrapes and bruises. They could shake that off. Well, maybe not the girl's broken nose.

It was human nature to forgive and help even enemies out, right? I saw it once on a TV I watched peeping secretly from a window. The good guy was fighting an evil man who had done terrible things—worse than anything I'd ever done for sure—but when something went wrong and the man was about to die a horrible death, the good guy came and saved his life anyway. "We're the same, you and I. Humans make mistakes, but no one deserves to die like that," he had said. Although that villain was a moron who refused help out of pride and died for it. I would gladly take their hands if it meant getting out of this hole.

The boys and I, we were the same too, right? Human kindness, human decency, humanity itself would have them come, look over the hole and help me climb out. I yelled up to them and felt the branch creak under my weight. They sure were taking a while. A rope would do if they couldn't reach me themselves. Just a small hand, I was so close to the top.

There! I heard whispers! They hadn't left yet, and they were talking about me! I felt cold. The branched creaked again, a sharper note hanging in the air. The whispers pittered out, fading into the distance with the sound of quiet, quieter, then silent footsteps.

Something shattered, then I fell.