"Oh, drat! Allistor's going to kill me when he realizes? I'm lost, in a park I thought I knew all my life! I was looking for his football anyways, so I'm doubly dead." The boy murmured as he trampled his way through the small but dense woods in his local park.
He was Arthur Kirkland, aged 8 years but with a constant maturity of an eleven year old. Arthur was currently in the summer transition between the second and third grades. He hated the breaks though, because it meant that he had to be in sticky situations like the one he was in now.
Arthur had been sent out by his older brothers to go and retrieve the large, red Manchester United football out of the woods when they themselves had put it there and knew where to find out. His brothers were mean like that to him; making him do things they could definitely do themselves. Now, here he was, lost in the woods.
"I bloody hate all of them!" Arthur exclaimed, even though it was untrue. He hacked through some bushes viciously before continuing." They're so stupid and depend on me when they're in high school! I hate it!"
Suddenly, he tripped on a branch in the ground and fell flat on the back of his head, almost twisting his ankle. "OW!" he shrieked in pain as he made contact with the ground, which had many sharp and painful things.
He struggled to get up once he landed, and he could definitely tell that he was bleeding in a few places. Mainly his legs and arms though, so there would more than likely be scars. Funfunfun.
As he felt his person to know of any further injuries, he whimpered. The fall had been quite painful for him. He felt plenty of scrapes on his chest and back as well. This must have been pretty serious.
When he looked up, he noticed a rustle in the bushes in front of him. He immediately went forward to the bushes, but with extreme caution. You never know if there might be a molester creeping or maybe Francis Bonnefoy peeping these days. His scratched hands prevented him from further investigating the area without hurting himself even more.
"Who's in the bushes? I promise I won't hurt you, unless you're a creeper who deserves to be hit. So come out!" Arthur said harshly, stepping back from the bush.
It took a few moments, but eventually another boy stepped out of the bushes. Oh. Not him. Arthur quickly thought with great disgust.
"H-hey Arthur. I wasn't creeping on you or anything! I was just c-collecting tree samples for Boy Scouts!" the boy hurriedly protested.
This boy was Alfred F. Jones, the so-called Hero of the while second grade. He had transferred from another school in the county and immeadiately became popular among the students, except for Arthur and a few others. Even the teachers liked him! It wasn't fair in Arthur's viewpoint, or so he thought.
Arthur hated Alfred a whole lot, and had thus far avoided nearly all contact with him. He had hoped to never see him again, but he must have jinxed himself up somehow, because here he was.
"Bloody Boy Scouts my arse." Arthur growled, turning away, there appeared to be a slowly bleeding spot on the back of his head where he landed earlier.
Alfred gasped when he caught sight of the bleeding spot, and rushed over to Arthur. "Arthur! You need to go to the hospital, your head is bleeding!" he exclaimed in panic.
"No, it's not! You bloody lair!" Arthur spat, turning back to glare at Alfred.
"I'm really completely serious, though! I wouldn't lie about your head bleeding out on the back, now would I?"
Arthur considered the thought for a short moment. He never did remember Alfred lying to him in the past year, so there must be some truth in what he said…So that meant he really was bleeding…Out of the back of his head. Bloody great.
"Well, if I'm really bleeding my brains out, do you know the way to the park?" Arthur groaned, beginning to panic inside.
"Follow me!" Alfred cried out, grabbing Arthur's hand and leading him quickly out of the mini-woods.
Arthur felt an odd sensation the moment Alfred had placed his hand in his. He didn't like the fluttering feeling in his tummy, it made him feel sick.
"Alfred, can you let me go? I can walk by myself, you git!"
"No can do, Arthur! You're bleeding! You might go unconscious or something and that would make things worse! I don't want you to die!"
Arthur's mouth dropped in shock as he continued following Alfred through the woods.
No one had ever told him they wanted him to live. Not once in his life. He always remembered being bullied throughout his years, weather it be by his brothers or his classmates. And there was always a problem about his odd attraction to the fae and unicorns.
When he looked up again, he could now see the familiar surroundings of the park, but that was the last thing he saw before blacking out…..
~TIMESKIP~
Arthur struggled to open his eyes, the lights were so bright above him. Where was he exactly?
"Golly Mom! Arthur's finally waking up!" a voice exclaimed in excitement.
"Huh? Where…Am I?" Arthur moaned, trying to focus on the golden blobs he could barely see in front of him.
"You're in the hospital, Artie! You passed out practically the moment we got out of the woods, so my mom had to help get you to the hospital!"
Arthur slowly sat up in his cot, and cleared his eyes enough to see Alfred and a young woman sitting in chairs on the other side of the room.
"W-what happened with my big brothers? Why aren't they here?" He quickly questioned.
"Arthur dear….They declined visiting you. So they won't be in here anytime soon." Alfred's Mom said calmly.
Arthur's jaw dropped, and he felt his hands curl into his hospital blanket. "But…T-that's not fair! T-they're my brothers! They're supposed to love me and support me through my best and my worst!" he yelled out in his previously pent up frustration. "Why can't anybody love me?!"
Before Arthur could do much more, Alfred ran over to him and hastily took his hand, clamping it into his. "Artie, calm down, geez!" Alfred hissed into his ear, making him pause in his struggle. "You know that I'm here for you, Arthur! Don't ever forget that, 'kay? Just 'cause I'm the teacher's pet and all that doesn't mean that I don't care about you and won't help you, okay? I'm done now."
When Alfred crept back over to his now concerned mother, Arthur rubbed the palm of his hand where Alfred's warm hands had previously been.
Where they now friends?
End.