Want You Bad

Today was hell. People don’t get me, I know that. But fuck, I must’ve done something bad to get shit like I did today. I’m used to the names. People shouting freak, emotional wreck, nut-case, screw-loose. And this is before they notice the deep cuts across my arm. Then it just gets worse. Fucked-up, twisted, scum. They tell me I don’t belong in this world. I believe them.
She’s the only thing that keeps me here. Alexis. She watched.
She watched as they kicked my face in. As they beat me.
Her face was emotionless. She wasn’t enjoying it like the others. Yet there was no look of kindness, no look of care on her face. But the whole time, watching.
Pain shot up my ribs as Josh’s foot came crashing into them. I cried out. I looked at her, my eyes begging for help. But she stood back and watched.
With one kick in the face, my vision was blurred. I could no longer see the crowd that had gathered. But they kept hitting, kept kicking me, and the crowd kept cheering them on. But I was numb to it. I was beyond the point of feeling. The pain was nothing compared to the fact that I couldn’t see her anymore. She was no longer in my vision. I heard a loud sigh, and the beating stopped. The pain returned. It shot through my body. It was agony.
A warm liquid filled my mouth. I could taste it. Metallic. Blood. I spluttered, staining the gym floor deep red.
I tried to get up but I fell.
I fell to the floor.
I could see nothing, but I could hear them, their laughter.
It echoed.