Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 2

So there I was, laughter ringing around my ears. But then there was one laughter that was louder and more cynical than the others, and it came from right behind me. I turned around and it was no other than Bala Subramaniam, my 7 foot arch enemy.

Bala Subramaniam is a boy who has been making my life hell the last 4 years. He was a dim-witted rugby player who found my interest in chess and poetry disgusting for whatever reason, and bullied me constantly. I looked up at the man mountain defiantly, daring him to make a move. It is a foolish man who tries to provoke a wounded animal, but Bala Subramaniam was a foolish man.

We locked eyes for the longest time , and then it hit me. He must have done it. He must be responsible for what happened. I looked back at Raquel and I noticed the letter was lying next to her on the floor. I immediately ran towards her but before I could grab it someone shoved me to the ground. Then suddenly I was surrounded by boys who started to kick me as I lay screaming on the ground. They must have thought I was trying to hurt Raquel .

The blows rained down and I let out a cry of pain each time they hit , but I kept crawling towards Raquel. I could feel bones snapping in my body and my eyes started to swell shut from the blows to my face. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally managed to reach Raquel, she was but an arm's length away. I stretched out and grabbed the letter with my bloodied hand. And then everything faded to black..

(To be continued)