May 5,1997

Dear Devi,

It has been a few days since my last letter. No, wait. I lied. Its been two minutes. Two FUCKING minutes. I have so much I want to say to you, but everything I think of saying to you, sends tingles through my body. I can't tell if they're good tingles. Maybe they're bad. But they're the exact same tingles I used to get when I talked to you. I miss our talks, Devi. I miss you. I still remember the first day I met you...

The day was calm. The wind blew slightly, my hair swayed with it. My hands were deep in my pockets now. Each step I took on the sidewalk echoed through the neighborhood. Bringing nearby children to run inside. I was lonely. As were you.
Strange glances were replacing friendly conversations. No one bothered to say 'Hello'. No one. I overheard a pair of elderly ladies talking about me.

"Did you see that boys hair?"
"What is he wearing?"
"Do you think his mother knows what he looks like?"

My mother is dead. And you're lucky you're not. I remember thinking.

A group of people who looked like me were across the street. They stared me down. Their eyes were burning holes through my head. One of the girls whispered to another. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Those lucky bastards, I couldn't hear them. I dug my fingernails into my skin. Hoping to resist the urge of ripping their skulls apart. I walked on. But they wouldn't leave me be. They walked along with me. I didn't hurry. I didn't want to show them I was weak. I'm not weak. Not like them.

They crossed the street. The six.. or maybe it was seven.. of them crossed, dodging cars. They were behind me now. Their boots hitting the ground sounded like an army of people. Ready to shoot anyone. They weren't very close. Yet I could feel their hot breath on the back of my neck. I closed my hands into fists now. I wasn't afraid to take them. I wasn't afraid to kill all of them. I was in front of a book store now. I didn't know there was a bookstore here. I didn't know anyone could read in this town.

I stopped. Hoping that they would just walk by. I didn't feel like killing anyone. Was that possible? I just washed my coat. I didn't want 'faggot' blood on me. Note to self: Look up definition of faggot. (I get called that a lot.) The guys circled around me. The girls watched from a distance. Giggling to themself. The guys were bigger than me. More muscular. Taller. Uglier. Heh. Heh. I'm funny. I looked up at them with big eyes and asked,

"Can I help you?"
They didn't respond. Maybe they were retarded.

"I saw.. you.. Yous was staring at meh girl."
His voice was deep, he spoke slow. I just stared at him. His hair was dyed black. From the look of his roots, he used to be blonde. He was large. More to love I suppose. His tight pants gave me nightmares. His shirt wasn't doing him any good either.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. You see, I was just going for a walk--"

"SHUDDUP. I knows what I's saw. Are yous calling mes stupid?"

Kind of.

I gave out a loud sigh. He must of not liked the way I exhaled. Next thing I knew his fist met my face. And what a blow it was. I reached for my pocket knife. But his friends held my wrists back. They pushed me against the glass window of the bookstore. I struggled. I was never outnumbered. I kicked up my legs. It didn't do any good. His fist just kept meeting my face. Then my stomach, then lower. I tasted blood in my mouth. Oh how they would pay. If I could just reach into pocket... Another blow to the face. I felt liquid slither down my face. My lip was stinging. My left eye was shut tight. As hard as I tried it wouldn't open. Through my other eye I saw the other side of the street. Strangers looked over at me. Met my eye contact. And walked on. What has this world come to?

I heard police sirens. They were wailing. Echoing. But the guys weren't stopping. The car pulled up in front of us.

"Son, you know you could be arrested for this right? Come on Monkey butt."

"DAD!"

"Get in the car, Son."
He stopped hitting me, his friends grips loosened, and they let go. I dropped to the floor. The bookstore's door swung open. I could barely see. My only eye stung, it was hard keeping it open. I felt a hand grab my arm. I flinched under the contact. A hand smoothed back my hair. Blood pushed through the gash in my lip. A figure walked towards me.

"I guess next time, you'll know better than to mess with my boy."
His voice was high pitched.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT! YOU'RE GORILLA OF A SON ATTACKED HIM!"
It was a womans voice. It ringed in my ear. I looked over towards her, my vision still blurry. I could make out black hair.

"I'd shut your mouth if I was you, young lady."

"Don't talk to her like that."
I mumbled.

"What was that son?"

I cleared my voice.

"Don't talk... to her... like... that."
He leaned over, his face was inches from mine.

"Whatever pansy boy. Next time, I'll just let my son kill you."
He turned to walk away, I grabbed his wrist and spun him around. I pulled him down to me and whispered in his ear,

"If you touch her, I'll kill you so hard, you'll die to death."

Not the best comeback. But he walked away frightened.

She smoothed my hair back once more, and grabbed my leg.

"You're going to be ok. I'll take care of you. Don't worry."

I shook my head, and then came darkness.

A/N: This is my second JTHM story. This one has been in progress for a couple of days. I have to update my other one still. Please review!