Here, have a sad story!
No-one understands what we go through. Everyday we force ourselves to get up. Everyday we drag ourselves to school. Everyday we pretend nothing is wrong and ignore the emptiness inside.
But it's all an act.
My name is Lalna, I live in an orphanage as my parents abandoned me when I was just 4 years old. Everyday I enjure the bullying, the punching and kicking, the pushing and shoving. But the physical pain isn't the worst part, no, the worst part is the words... always the words.
It was a cold, rainy day and I was walking back home from school late, because of a detention. I say home, really I mean the orphanage; the key to my misery. Through the gloom, I noticed a group of kids laughing and joking. As I got closer I realised that there was a small boy in the middle of the group, blood dripping down his face, mixing with the rain... or were they tears? I heard them call him names and the sound of fist on cold, damaged skin. "you orphan scum! Your parents never loved you!" One of the kids laughed. I sprinted over, "Hey!" I shouted at them, "Get the fuck away from him!" The kids smirked at me, advancing like a pack of wolves before the tallest of the group said, " Come on, we're wasting our time here." And with that, he walked off, his friends following closely, like mindless lemmings. "Are you ok?" I asked the boy, he sniffled before answering, "Yeah... thanks for helping me." I smiled. I recognised the boy now, his name was Benji, and he was in the year below, although sometimes we were in the same class. Benji also lived in the same orphanage as me but since he lived at the other side I barely saw him. I escorted him back to the orphanage seeing as he was limping and then want to my room without having dinner.
The orphanage was bad enough, with the older kids stealing the younger's food and money, but at school it was worse, at school was were the bullying started. And for some, it was where the bullying ended too. That day we had a class with the younger year, which meant I would be in the same class as Benji. But I couldn't sit next to him. A boy in my year who went by the name of Sjin, forced Benji into the seat next to him. I didn't listen to the teacher, instead I watched as Sjin spouted nasty comments at Benji, knowing I couldn't do anything about it. My attention was brought back to the lesson when the teacher mentioned "Sticks and stones may break my bones... who can finish it for me?" Sjin stood up, smiling he said, "Sticks and stones may break my bones ,but words will never hurt me." I shook my head, it was wrong, so wrong. The teacher smiled and Sjin sat down, triumphant, accidentally on purpose crushing Benji's arm under his, "remember that, Benji."He hissed, "Remember that if you get upset by words then you're a fucking coward. You're a worthless little bitch and no-one's ever loved you; and no-one ever will." Benji looked as though he might break down. Gulping back tears, Benji asked the teacher if he could go to the toilet. The teacher sighed but said yes.
By the end of the lesson I was worried sick. Benji hadn't come back. I ran to the toilets as soon as the bell went. The door was stuck tight, like something was blocking it but I busted the door down and ran in. "Oh my god." I whispered. The once white floor was stained with blood. Blood that collected around a body, Benji's. I knelt by him, blood splattering my clothes. The trembling boy gasped in pain at the knife in his chest and his whole body shook. "Stay with me Benji." I begged, "Please!" His eyelids fluttered, "I-i'm sorry, L-lalna... I'm so sorry."
"NO! Benji. It's ok! We can get you to hospital, you'll be fine!" The dying boy smiled, "Show them, Lalna. Show them that sticks and stones may break our bones, but words hurt more than you could ever imagine." His eyes closed and the shaking stopped.
"I will, Benj, don't worry, I WILL."
I came into school the next day with a mission. And I was determined. First lesson, I was ready. "So class, what was the saying we learnt yesterday?" The teacher asked. Sjin stood up, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never heart me."
"That's wrong." The class gasped as I stood up, "Do you really think broken bones hurt more than the words? Because if you do then you're wrong. It's the words that kill, the broken bones just help. A fellow student died yesterday, and it wasn't because of the physical pain. No, it was because of the words. So just remember this next time you go to say a nasty comment to someone, that your words killed an innocent boy, who certainly didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve to die. Stick and stones may break our bones, but words hurt more than you could ever imagine."
Aaaargh! The feels!
There seriously aren't enough fics with Benji in them... or strippin for that matter.
Hope you enjoy and you didn't cry to much!