The Courtyard

It felt as if a woodpecker was hammering a hole into my heart as I observed the scene in front of me unfold. It was like watching a silent movie, since I was close enough to see what was happening, but too far away to hear it. I watched as the bigger boy pushed the smaller boy to the ground, laughing as if it was the funniest thing he had ever done; as if causing the other kid pain was the only way to get something out of life. From across the courtyard, I could see the bigger kid stomp on something that must have been of great importance to the other. Straining my eyes, I could also make out the faint glistening of tears that were threatening to fall over the second boys wired rimmed glasses, in turn, only deepening the already bottomless hole in my chest.

Since high-school started, I had been a self-proclaimed nonconformist. Now, in this very moment, I can finally see how hypocritical I am. A true nonconformist would stand up for the second boy, no matter what anyone else thought. But I’m too afraid to be the next victim. Instead, I turn around and pretend that nothing is wrong, just like everyone else.