High school sucks.

And that's a lot coming from me. Nerdy Naomi, the most unpopular, bullied girl in Darwell High. But I had to keep my promise (unlike some people I know) to my parents of me going back to school the next week.

Yes, I know. I have a death wish. But I've skipped school for two weeks straight, that's one thing. As as a certified nerd, I am unable to go one day without school. Imagine all of the things I missed: homework, classwork, pop quizzes, tests, and projects. I miss all of that except the inhabitants of school, both the teachers and students, mostly the students.

The week went by faster than I thought it would be, unlike my other weeks of school years before. Most of the time, I'm too busy aching over my bruises or crying in the bathroom stall I hide in, that the week went so slow the weekend seems like years away. But maybe the weekend went by because my mind was somewhere else, not crying over my bloody bruises, stolen homework and creative insults. I swear, they're getting good at the name calling.

So as bruises appeared on my arms, homework lost in my backpack, and insulting names appeared in my head, my thoughts wandered through my mind. Though the questions were still left unanswered, another thing came up to my mind. I have always known that the guys were a gang, but it never really crossed my mind what they did. Who knows what they did as a gang. Fighting, killing, guns, drugs, illegal trading, the black market, loan sharking, robberies, and so many other things I don't want to think of. In the Contract of Starbucks, I wasn't allowed to be part of much less know anything of that life, the bad life, the gang life. I understand that, it's dangerous, I can go to jail, get killed, or even worse... refused to be accepted to any colleges.

But even if I do understand it, I still deserve to know some things. Even if I'm safe from that life, that doesn't mean the guys are. They're living in the gang life, no, they are the gang life. Every second they're out in the open on the streets, they can be hurt or even killed by other gangs. Especially, the Lost Boys. I know now that the gang that outnumbered them must have been the Lost Boys. The Lost Boys outnumbered them by three, maybe even more people. I'm worried that they'll use that advantage to get the guys hurt or killed sooner or later. It's a bit ironic given I'm still worried about them even after what they did, well, didn't do for me.

To be honest, I don't care about that anymore. I mean, I'm still a bit hesitant now if my life depends on them, which it is. But now that we've made that promise with each other, it's linking us, it holds us together. We can't break it for one little mistake. And I actually miss them. I can't believe it either. If someone were to tell me any of this would happen. If someone told me I would befriend a gang of three unbelievably hilarious, dorky idiots who promised to protect me but didn't and I still forgive them, I would have laughed. But now that it has happened already, I'm not laughing.

I have always been the independent girl who had to look out for herself and only herself. After being on my own for so many years, eleven to be more exact, I don't just throw my trust at anyone who offers. Even I'm still hesitant with the guys. But besides that, I would have never thought I would actually... need them. Who would have known that the bullied nerd girl would actually need the three bad boys?

But even if I actually confessed that I missed them, no, need them. It won't change anything. They haven't been here all week. And I doubt that even if they do come back, they would care about me at all. They'd probably pretend they don't know me, that I'm invisible to them, that I don't exist. If they do, I won't blame them. Our social statuses are so far apart that you can see it a mile away.

So the whole week, I was forced to survive school by myself. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time for five days straight. And each day that went by got me thinking not only what would happen tomorrow, but after that, the next week, the next month. But I try not to let the future get to me, right now I'm in the present, and I'll have to survive now and worry about tomorrow later.

This is how my week went.

Monday

At first everything seemed alright. Everything seemed pretty normal. People tried to trip me, shoved me, insulted me, the usual day of school. But it wasn't until I went to my locker did I get surprise waiting for me.

It wasn't Raymond or his goons, waiting for me with a fist. It wasn't Valentine's Day with chocolates in a box which ended up being chocolate laxatives. I had to learn that the hard way. No, it wasn't any of that. I actually smelled it before I saw it.

Of course, I stupidly thought it was probably the school's mystery lunch or someone's lunch. But it wasn't until I slowly opened my locker did the smell became stronger tenfold and I saw the source. The source that was in my locker with all my stuff and books, stinking up the whole thing.

It was a rotten fish.

What a great way to start the week.

Tuesday

The next day seemed just like the first. It was the usual kicks, punches, and insults, though they were slightly harder this time. I thought maybe they'll cut me some slack today after the rotten fish locker. I can't believe I actually thought of something so stupid.

But I actually survived into second period this time before any prank came at me, unlike yesterday when I opened my locker that morning. I was walking into third period, English with Ms. Dawson. I was ready for the English test even though I learned there was one just yesterday when I could've known it two weeks ago and been ready. But I don't need to worry, I'm a nerd, remember?

Well I was almost late to class. After second period, calculus, since I was asking Mr. Roberts for some extra credit project for the stuff I missed. He honestly didn't care and just told me to be creative, so I told him I'll be writing an five page essay about the intermediate value theorem, a topic we wouldn't go to until next semester. He yawned and told me to get to class, please.

So I was opening the door to class, which was slightly open. I pushed it open and something poured onto me. At that something was blue. Blue paint. There was a bucket of blue paint on the door ledge, just waiting for someone to open the door and pour blue paint on. The bucket crashed onto my head, my head being in the bucket. It caused me to fall backwards onto the floor. The whole class, even Mr. Roberts laughed. I slowly stood up and walked away.

I looked like a Smurf.

Wednesday

The blue paint still hasn't gotten off after all the showers I took. I started to get why cats don't like water. My hair has traces of blue in it as if I had blue highlights and they were slowly fading. My face got most of the blue out, but parts of my arms, hands and neck are still blue. After the blue paint incident, I decided just to leave and go home directly. I told the staff member in the main office, and she let me go without another word.

I walked home getting many stares from other people. When I arrived home, I went up to my shower for the mission of trying to wash the Smurf out of me. But after all of the hours and water wasted, I still gave my parents a near heart attack when they came home. I had to explain that I was helping out painting a banner when someone accidentally knocked a bucket of blue paint on me. Thankfully, they believed it and laughed at how much of a Smurf I looked like. To make me feel better, we watched Smurfs after dinner.

Anyway, I went back to school the next day. This time I survived until lunch. The first four periods went by fine. I turned in the homework, classwork and tests I missed the last two weeks, I have officially caught up now. Now I can go back to being ahead of everyone by reading ahead of the lessons. The blue was still on me, so the whole time I was teased by being called a Smurf, Sully from Monsters Inc., Raven and Beast from X-Men, part of the Blue Man Group, and eating too many blue waffles. The insults just kept on coming, but I let them slide, they won't make me feel blue.

Well after fourth period I immediately went to the cafeteria. Usually I would bring packed lunch from home and eat in the bathroom (unsanitary but safe) or I would ask one of the lunch ladies from behind the cafeteria to get me something, they're nice and I usually give them extra for it. But I wasn't able to do either. I forgot to make myself lunch because I was too busy washing the blue away and the lunch lady who usually gets me the food was off on Wednesdays.

So I was forced to go into treacherous waters, the uncharted sea filled with dangerous and lethal monsters. No, not high school, though I can see the likeness. But now that I think of it, yes, I'm talking about it. Then I mean the Bermuda Triangle of this scary ocean called the cafeteria. I was close, very close. I went as close as getting into the cafeteria safely and being half way in the cafeteria line to get my food. I wore a hood over my head, looked at the ground, just tried to be invisible. Most of the time when I do this, it works.

Just not this time.

Two pairs of strong arms grabbed my shoulder from behind. I was about to yell out a yelp, maybe one of the lunch ladies would do something, but though I seriously doubt they would. But a hand clamped over my mouth so I couldn't scream. The whole cafeteria was watching the scene. Kids were whispering and laughing, some even taking a video of it. Even the lunch ladies serving the food paused working to watch (see, they wouldn't do anything) what was happening. Raymond's goons of the football team were dragging me out of the cafeteria. My screams were muted under the hand, I struggled, punched, and kicked, but it didn't work. As soon as I left the cafeteria, everyone went back to what they were doing.

At first I thought they were going to beat me up like last time. But they usually did that when they're pissed, and I didn't do anything to piss them off. Then I thought they would lock me in the janitor's closet. I was stuck in there for hours, my fists hurt from banging the door and my voice lost from screaming for help. It wasn't until the janitor opened the door was I finally let out. They were never going to open the closet, the were planning to leave me for who knows how long. But I doubt they'd do that either, I was headed outside the school.

I noticed that Raymond wasn't with them. I asked them where he was, but they told me to shut up. One of them slung me over their shoulder like a sack and continued walking. I heard them whisper to each other, asking the other why Raymond wasn't here, where he is. I guess they don't know either. We reached the front doors of the school, they casually opened it like it was a normal thing to do. Then they walked down the steps and headed around the school, to the back. I could once again smell it before I saw it. The smell of trash, and lots of it.

They were heading to the dumpsters. The dumpster that held all of the trash of the school. From badly graded school work to the lunch's mystery meat of the day for the past weeks. The garbage trucks don't come until Friday, so the dumpster will be filled with disgusting trash since last Friday. My eyes widened when I realized what they were going to do. I haven't been thrown into the dumpster since middle school. I thought they were past that already. But then again, I guess they're going classic on me with the fish in the locker and becoming a Smurf.

One of them opened the dumpster lid, then quickly backed away from the stench. Everyone, including me, automatically put their hands over their noses, trying to shield away from the odor. It was a mixture of rotten meat, sour milk, and so many other things. The one who was carrying me took me off his shoulder. Then his friend grabbed my legs while he held my arms. They began to swing me towards the dumpster. I wanted to beg them for mercy, but I knew it would be useless. Instead, I just hoped they wouldn't miss unlike the bullies from middle school who weren't as strong as they looked and accidentally hit me against the dumpster instead of in it. They let go and I flew into the air before I landed inside the dumpster, the impact closing the lid behind me. All of them cheered at the goal, the score, the target.

I groaned from inside the dumpster. The odor knocking me out for a moment, having my head spin. It was dark, damp, and smelly. A dangerous combination. I did my best to stand up, only I stepped on something gooey that made a loud squish. I lifted my hands over my head and tried to lift the lid of the dumpster. But I couldn't, it was as if there was a huge weight holding down the lid. It didn't take a genius to know that they must have put a trashcan or something on the lid so I couldn't get out. This wasn't the first time that happened to me and it won't be the last. I heard laughter and high fives before they're footsteps walked away, now I was alone.

It was then I heard a small squeak.

Scratch that.

I'm not exactly alone.

Thursday

Since I went back to school the next day meant I survived yesterday. I was in the dumpster for quite sometime. I don't know how long though, for some reason there were no clocks in there. I had a roommate the hours I spent in there, we were sure to halve the small apartment. We weren't at good terms, it didn't work out, so I ended up moving out. I didn't like the quality of the place and the rent anyway. One of the lunch ladies was the one who let me out. I didn't blame her when she screamed as soon as she opened the lid as I popped out like a Jack-in-the-box. I clambered out of the dumpster and took off running.

I came home at around six o'clock, only a few minutes before my parents arrived. As soon as I came home, I raced into the shower and took a shower. But even after the amount of shampoo, soap and endless scrubbing, they still noticed a distinct smell of rotten fruit and day old meatloaf. I told them that it was probably their imagination, even though they kept on sniffing me and giving me suspicious looks. Though I knew the rest of the week I'll be smelling my new perfume, à la dumpster.

I went back to school once again the next day. Now this time, I survived all of my classes into sixth period, P.E. I know, I'm just as surprised. But this week's record isn't all that compared to what happened. I once again had to catch up to the last two classes I missed after the dumpster incident. The whole day, I had to ignore the looks, insults, and laughs of the faint smell of à la dumpster on me. I was so used to the smell, I didn't care about them. Not like I already do. I was pushed, punched and kicked, only they were slightly softer since they didn't want my smell to caught onto them.

It was a running day for P.E. It was the usual running a bunch of laps around the field under an unfair amount of minutes. The athletic kids obviously ace the running days and get good grades. Lazy kids who don't like to sweat usual walk or jog a bit for a low grade and a screaming lecture from Ms. Ramos. And lucky kids who are injured or any other fake or real excuse they can come with it will get to make to write an five-page essay about whatever sport she chooses to make up for the running day. So actually, the lucky kids who don't get to run aren't exactly lucky at all.

I was usually one of the few people who aces the running day. After running away from bullies, running after the bus and other things, I worked on my running, breathing control and stamina. I can run circles around even the most athletic of kids in this school. Though I'd probably have to put that running to use and run away from them. After the running day, I got another A as a grade and a glare from Ms. Ramos and other people who were probably wondering how could a nerd be as or more athletic as them, I left to the locker room. Only as soon as I left the locker room with my regular clothes, I was grabbed from behind and dragged away again.

It was Raymond's friends again, and some other kids from my P.E period. Two kids who I happen to know quite well, David Sanchez and Marco Simpson, the same two who Declan and I versed and beat in soccer, were the ones who were carrying me to my doom. David still looked pissed from what happened that game and the bruises from the punches Declan gave him were still there. They carried me to the front of the school. I saw what I was heading it before we arrived because it was the tallest thing in the school.

The school's flagpole.

The school's flagpole held the American flag along with the state's flag. If you've probably guessed it, you're right. I'm going to get hung up on the flagpole. This once again is a classic bulling prank, I haven't gotten hung up since middle school, this only happened to me twice, one of them unsuccessful because my pants ripped and I dropped onto the ground from a safe height before I could have gotten pulled up any higher. I looked down at my pants, hoping they would hold up as long as I wish they would.

School hasn't ended yet, so only the P.E kids were there. But I could see the curious P.E teachers watching what was happening from afar. And the classroom windows at the front of the school wre wide open with kids looking from inside. David and Marco dropped me on the ground. But before I could run away, they grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the flagpole. Everyone was beginning to chant, 'Hang her up, hang her up, hang her up,' again and again. I didn't bother struggling, my body was limp and useless. No one was going to help me, and I couldn't do anything, so I just let it happen.

One of the kids came to the pole with a key, unlocking the lock that held the rope in place. Either they stole the key or someone gladly gave it to them not knowing what it will do or knowing what it will do. They were sure to give me a wedgie, I winced in pain as this happened. The wedgie showed my purple underwear for everyone to see, having them all burst into laughter. My cheeks turned warm as this happened. Then they hooked it not at the belt loop, knowing it won't hold that well, but at the back of the pants along with my underwear. I felt a slight tug that was a slight test that it was secure. Soon a bunch of strong, athletic kids in the football team and in P.E grabbed hold of the other line and pulled. With each pull, I was hoisted off the ground and went up higher and higher.

Soon, I was all the way to the top of the flagpole. The U.S. and state's flag were on the ground while I hung up for the world to see. I made the mistake at looking down and I nearly fainted. It' not thatI'm scared of heights, just scared of falling from a height. I held back some bile, taking my time to get used to the view. Kids were all staring up at me, which is a nice change for once instead of me looking up to them. There were flashes of light and phones were pointed at me, having me know that they were taking pictures and videos of this.

I'll disappoint them by not screaming, pleading, or even crying. I'll have them get bored of me since all I'll do is just hang there like a flag on a windless day. I looked at the view spread out to me. I could see the city skyline with the bright blue day. It was thrilling and beautiful, the view but not the experience. The school bell rang, telling everyone that school is out and to get our of the building. A bigger crowd formed below me, kids were taking videos, taking pictures, laughing, chanting, calling me names. But I let the wind carry their voices away, muting the noise. Hours went by and they slowly went away, having homework to do, friends to hang out, parents waiting for them. Soon enough, I was all alone once more.

The sky was getting dark. I saw building window lights turning off and some still on. I saw cars fly down the streets of the city. I saw people walking home or to other places, though they could see me. I stopped looking down, and looked up instead. The sky was beautiful. The sun was slowly setting behind the skyscraper building. The clouds were strewn across the sky, about to vanish in the sky. And the sky was turning rosy pink with a mixture of orange, red and purple. Even though I was in a bad situation at the moment, in the end it was a bit worth it. I would have never seen the setting sun in this point of view.

My eyes began to droop. I couldn't believe it myself that I could actually fall asleep in this situation. My pants could rip and I could fall to my death. I don't want to spend my last moments drooling in dreamland. But I did. And as I did, I didn't feel myself being lowered back safely on the ground. I didn't hear the car engine starting. And I didn't see the people who sneaked me into my bedroom and onto my bed.

I was too busy drooling in dreamland.

Friday

And now today is Friday. Today is the last day of the week. But I'm not thanking anyone it's Friday. No, I'm not exactly in the thanking situation. I surprised my parents by giving them a near heart attack when they found out that I actually was home, sleeping in my bedroom. Though I don't know how I got there in the first place. Either way, I'm thankful I'm in the comforts of my beg, instead of still hanging by my pants. Those pants are torn up now, they were a good pair of pants, but a trustful friend who hanged on until the end.

Once again I went back to the school that holds an army of kids who hate my guts. There was huge talk of the flagpole prank. They talked about their versions of the story, showed and sent videos of the whole thing, and even posted posters all over the school with a picture of me hung onto the flagpole. It was a bad shot, blurry and black and white. But you could tell from a mile away it was me. Who else was hung on a flagpole recently?

I survived the whole day of school this time. I went to all of my classes. I caught up to all of my schoolwork. And I endured the ready ammo of punches and insults as I walked to each of my classes the whole day. But it wasn't until after school did I finally got the last prank of the week. As soon as the bell rang, I raced out of school as fast as I can, which was pretty fast.

I didn't bother taking the bus with a bunch of kids who hated me. I just ran and ran, I ran so much it would have made Forrest Gump proud. All I wanted to do was run and run. And that was exactly what they wanted me to do. Raymond's friends were right on my tail when I heard their pounding feet behind me. That made me run even faster. I tried to outrun them, out maneuver them, trick them because I know the city streets. But they knew it too. I glanced from the corner of my eyes that they were running also running at streets beside me, they were planning to surround me.

But even after the miles I ran away, even after every minutes it took, I still couldn't get away. I ran into an alley, hoping I could lose them. Instead, it ended up being a dead end. I pathetically hit the chain link fence. I looked up, jumping as high as I could, my hands grabbing the chains and pulling my self up, but I knew I couldn't. The fence was too high, and there were barbed wires at the top, I couldn't do it even if I tried. I whipped around and saw them at the other end of the alley.

They were all Raymond's underlings from the football team, roughly 15 or 20 guys. Though it wasn't all them, only the few who could keep up with me and didn't have anything better to do. And the thing was, Raymond wasn't here again. But before I could ask them why, they all took a step forward, causing me to take one step back. They were like an army to me, an army of at least 20 to one person. I don't know if I should feel flattered or terrified.

I gathered up my courage and asked them where Raymond was. They told me to shut up. I asked them how their day was. They told me to shut up. I asked them if a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? They paused, thinking the question over, then told me to shut up.

Instead, they told me that what's going to happen. The beating I'm about to get. Everything down to the last detail. Every bruise I'll get. Every bone that'll be broken. Even the color I'll be after this. As they said this, they kept stepping towards me having me back up one step at a time. They glared at me with sadistic smiles. Soon I was backed up against the fence with no way to escape out of this. One of them kicked me behind my feet, causing me ti fall on my arse. I winced in pain as they all backed up a few steps, laughing and high-fiving each other.

It was then I realized how sick I was about this. No, I don't mean the beatings I get from uses bullies. I'm already sick of that, but that's not it. It's not them I'm sick of, it's me I'm sick of. I'm sick of how I let this happen. I'm sick of how I let them do all of this to me. Sure I ignore them, laugh it off and even retort something back. But I never, I have never fought back. I have never stand up for myself, never punch back. I mist let the pouches and insults come at me.

And I'm sick of it.

So I'm willing to change that.

This time I'm willing to stand up for myself. This time I will fight. This time I will go down fighting. I won't let them think its easy beating up the weak nerd. I'm won't let them think its easy making fun of the defenseless good girl. I'm not going down without a fight.

Their laughter stopped as they watched me slowly stand up from the ground. I straightened myself, meeting the one in front of me right in the eye. My fists clenched, my heart pounded, adrenaline was pumping into my veins. He grinned at this, giving me a mused look. He cracked his knuckles as he told his friends to back up, which they did.

I took one step forward and he did as well. Everyone was silent, no one dared to make a sound. The atmosphere dropped several degrees. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. I knew I wasn't going to win. I knew this whole thing was stupid and pointless. But at the same time it wasn't. I was going to finally stand up for myself. I don't need to look for adults who won't help. I don't need to look at my fellow classmate who would just laugh. And I don't need to at the Three Musketeers who won't always, maybe, never be there. Instead I have myself to comfort, I have myself to stand up for me. I have myself.

He smiled sadistically at me. I didn't know his name, but I didn't care. None of that matters. What matters is the punches that are thrown, the bruises that form, the blood that spills, the insults that are called out. Only that matters. His arm lowly raised up, a huge fist came to view.

He brought his fist back then it started to come towards me. Everything seemed to be in slow-mo, as if time was slowing down. The guys were cheering, he was smiling. I wasn't fit for fighting, I didn't know what to do. My mind was processing what to do. Do I block? Do I dodge? Do I scream? But I knew it was going to be too late. My eyes closed and I waited, but the punch never came.

I slowly opened my eyes. His fist was right there, right in front of me, only a few inches, maybe, centimeters away. By it was hold back by a hand. I backed up, blinking at this, then followed the hand that was connected to an arm that was connected to a person.

A person named Bennett.

He didn't meet my eye, as if he was avoiding my gaze. Instead his eyes were glaring at the guy who's fist was about to meet my face. Before he could react, Bennett brought the guy's fist back with a loud snap, making him yelp. He stumbled backwards, massaging his broken hand.

I opened my mouth to say something but the words couldn't, wouldn't come out. Suddenly I heard a rattle of chains behind me. I looked up and saw a hooded figure dropping onto the ground next to me, after jumping off the fence. The figure slowly stood up and took off the hood, showing dirty blonde hair.

A figure named Jordan.

He also didn't look at me. Instead his attention was at the army of guys in front of me. And even though they outnumbered us, they still trembled in fear, backing away from us, some even stumbling backwards onto the ground. They all turned to get out of the alley but one thing stood in their way.

And that one thing was name Declan.

His signature glare made all of them freeze. He cracked his knuckles that could be heard all the way from him. A low growl came from him as he bared his teeth at them.

I couldn't believe they're here. I can't believe that after what they did and after what I did, they still care enough to come here. I was dumbfounded, speechless, I didn't know what to do, what to say. But they didn't let me. Instead, Jordan ruffled my hair, giving me an assuring sad smile.

"We're sorry, Naomi for not being there." He whispered to me, his voice soft with shame and guilt. "We're so sorry."

I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything. But the words wouldn't come out. So I didn't do anything but watch as the three of them started walking toward them.

They surrounding them like predators circling around their prey. Raymond's friends were grouped together, wanting to be as far away from the three as possible. Whimpering, stumbling and begging. But the three of them would fake pounce, scaring them, making them flinch, making then beg for mercy. All three of them wore dark looks, fists clenched, growling and glaring. And before any of them, even me, knew what they were about to do...

They strike.

Well here is the next chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm posting this from my phone because I'm... grounded. So I wasn't able to correct grammar mistakes or bold this author's note. But I hope you forgive me for the late post and wait for the next one. Post you comments below and I'll be back with you soon.

RubixCube89201