Will sits on the curb, nursing a black eye and a bleeding lip. He daps at the dribble of blood rolling down his chin with the frayed sleeve of his plaid shirt. He can still hear the jeers of his attackers, echoing down the street. He curls a little in on himself. They're still close. He hopes they don't return because he's not ready to run home yet. There would be no comfort there, and he feels it would be worse at this point to be chided for ruining his shirt and drawing attention to himself rather than be comforted about what the bigger boys had done to him.
It's not like his parents shouldn't expect it. About once a week, the bigger boys would draw him into woods by the playground and taunt him. They liked to say that his father was a drunkard and his mother was nothing but an idiot because she'd been too dumb to see what a loser his father was. Will had heard it all before from adults and children alike. His dad may have been the town drunk and his mother may not have finished high school, but Will hated that no one ever thought to judge him for his own merits. He was a Straight A student and a fair athlete. He never once got in trouble from drinking down at the lake like some kids he could mention. He never got in trouble at all. He should have been the teacher's pet, but unfortunately, things didn't work like that. Everyone marked him as a useless loser who had useless loser parent. The boys picked on him because he was an easy target just like the parents picked on his whole family. He only wished his parents could understand. He only wished they were aware enough of what was going on around them to be humiliated, angry, or something about what people said about them. But no. His father's brain was always too numbed for him to care and his mother was so oblivious to everything that she even thought the people of town liked her. They thought the fights were his fault. They didn't see them as an inevitability that he had no way to stop.
Will groans as he rises to his feet. The school yard's deserted now except for a few girls swinging on the playground. They look his way when he moves and then giggle amongst themselves. He winces from more than just the pain as he heads over to the path that leads toward home.
He wishes that someone—anyone really—could understand. Why did no one see things like he did? He knew Jenny's father beat her and that Billy cut himself after his parents died in that crash. Will tried to be understanding when they lashed out at him. He tried not to fight back too hard. Still, though, why couldn't anyone see the pain he was in? He can't be the only one in the universe who truly looks at people. At least, he certainly hopes he's not.
As he walks down the path, he sees a rustle in the bushes up ahead. He stops, hoping it's not another ambush. Without the sound of his footsteps, however, he can hear a slight whining. Cautiously, he approaches the bushes and kneels down. He takes a deep breath and pulls back some of the leaves.
Underneath the bush, Will finds a small black dog. It has floppy ears with curly hair and a fluffy tail that's curled underneath it. At first, it cowers at the sight of him, but then, Will sticks out a hand and the doggy leans forward to sniff it. The dog takes a quick glance up at Will's face, and seemingly reassured, it begins licking his hand. Will smiles and reaches out to pet it. The dog's tail uncurls from under its body and it begins to wag. Suddenly, the dog leaps into Will's lap and begins licking at his face. Will falls back to the ground, laughing, and the dog is overjoyed because suddenly it can crawl all over him and give him plenty of thankful kisses.
After Will is thoroughly dampened by dog licks, he sits back up and holds the dog close to his chest. Through his thin shirt, he can feel the quick breathing of the dog and maybe even the butterfly-like thump of its heart. He closes his eyes and the dog begins licking his hand again. Will's smile widens. It's been a long time since he's smiled so much. Actually, it's been a long time since he's been so close to another creature without things ending in pain and tears. Will has been around dogs before but never has one been so overjoyed to see him and never once has any dog immediately felt so much like it is his.
And this dog just feels to Will like it belongs to him. When he dreamed of having a dog, like most children do, he always thought it would be a Golden Retriever or a Lab. This dog wasn't either of those and yet he couldn't help but feel that it was right for his to be its owner and it to be his pet. It was like they were looking for each other, and now that they found each other, it would be wrong for them to part.
Will slowly takes the dog off his lap and stands to his feet.
"Are you ready to go home, doggy?" He asks. The dog wags its tail harder and Will takes that as a yes. Together, they walk off down the path, and for the first time in months, Will is standing tall and taking one glance over his shoulder.