Freaks.

The dark haired boy lit up a match, his eyes glistening at the sight of the dancing flame. A smile spread onto his face as he knelt down onto the battered grass of the little garden at the back of his house. He watched the ants as they ran on the dry earth, and a cruel spark appeared in his brown eyes as he lowered the match to the ground, right on an ant. 

"Jamie! Come help Mam to set the table!" the voice of his older brother called. 

The boy huffed sulkily, shaking the match to unlight it, and threw the blackened piece of wood to the ground, leaving the burnt ants to their agony, starting to walk back towards the house, when he caught a glimpse of a silhouette, behind the bushes that separated the neighbouring house. 
There was a boy, a few years older than Jamie, taller too, lanky, a mop of dark hair on his head. His dark blue eyes were zoomed with the thick glasses he wore, and his slightly open mouth revealed his set of braces. 

Jamie stood there looking at him for a second, and the boy did the same, before Jamie, suddenly freaked out, ran towards his house the quickest his little 9-years-old legs allowed him to.

--

"So, Richie, I need money to buy my lunch today but I forgot it at home... What about you give YOUR money to me?" Dafydd grinned, his firm hands flatening Jamie on the brick wall of Coedylan Comprehensive. 

Jamie swallowed his saliva, his eyes wide open and terrified.

"I-I don't have any money, I eat in the canteen, you know it..." he squeaked.

Dafydd laughed, along with the other bullies, as the plump-cheeked boy tried to free himself from the forceful grip. 

"I know you have money, Richie. Give me it!"

Jamie whimpered, shaking his head.

"No! I don't have any! Please let me go, I need to go in class! And stop calling me Richie!" he stuttered, feeling the tears coming.

"Oooh, Richie doesn't want to miss class does he?"

Jamie felt a tear roll on his cheek.

"Pussy!"

A fist hit him in the stomach, and he squeaked in pain before collapsing to the ground, in a puddle. He heard them all laugh and go as he got up, looking at his ruined uniform, sniffling. 
He grabbed his bag, and made his way to his class shakily. If that was Year 7, what would be the rest?

--

"HEY FREAK!"

A pellet hit Jamie right in the head, going to stick in his now longish black hair. Jamie rose his eyes from his drawing, and pulled out the earphones of his ears, stopping the walkwan. 

"What?" he asked exasperatedly. 

"Still listening to your weirdo music?" Phil snickered.

Jamie rolled his eyes. 

"Let's say that yes" he muttered, plugging back the earphones and allowing Black Sabbath back in his ears.

Suddenly, his drawing was ripped away. 

" 'EY!" he screamed, trying to grab back the notebook, earning a kick in the shin that made him yelp in pain.

"So what is the mosher drawing..."

Jamie got up from the ground and leapt on the guy that had his notebook. 

"Give it back!"

Phil pushed Jamie away as the other boy grinned, and turned the notebook towards the others. 

"Look at what he drew!" he chuckled. 

Between two girls in Victorian dresses stood the sketchy drawing of two naked young men embracing each other.

"I've always known you were a fag!" Phil laughed, walking towards the terrified, short teenager that was cowering against the wall. 

"I'm not g-gay! Just because I drew that doesn't mean I'm gay!" he stuttered.

His calls were magistrally ignored. His walkman was ripped away and thrown in a tree, and Jamie closed his eyes as hits fell onto him once more. 

--

"Richard, you should do something about it."

"I can't. They're too many. They'll always get to me." Jamie sobbed into his pillow, his little frame cuddled up on itself. 

He felt a pression on his bed that indicated that his mother had sat near him. A soft caress was lay on his calf, brushing on his voluminous bruise. He cringed.

"Ow."

"Sorry, Jamie..." 

His mother's tender hands ran through his hair. He sniffled, wishing he had a girlfriend to do that. But no one would look two times at him, would they?

"Jamie, you're an amazing boy, they just are too dumb to see it." His father's soothing voice said from the door. 

"I'm just an ugly fuck that can't defend himself." Jamie sobbed. 

"Jamie... For them to see how good you are, maybe you should realise just how good you are. No? Look, you can draw better than any 14 years old boy around. You play the piano, you know a lot of bands, you're an interesting person!"

Jamie shrugged. He just wanted it to end already.

--

"Look at that goth fag..."

Jamie closed his eyes for a second, exhaling. 
In. Out. In. Out. 

He slid his eyelids open, looning at the drawing he had done. It was a picture of a girl at the school, a beautiful girl. Diana. He turned the page of the sketchbook, uncapping his ballpen, and he started scrawling methodically, nodding to the rhythm of the music. The Ponty park was a good place to be left alone usually, since there were more people from Hawthorn High School than from Coedylan. 
But still, there were dicks everywhere. He was 15, he knew how to deal with them now. 

Near him on the grass, sat an older teenager, scrawny, dark-haired, with glasses, fiddling about with a bass. Jamie had the weird impression of having seen him somewhere. 
A group of thugs were walking towards his spot. Jamie unconsciously cringed, fear building in his belly. But the thugs weren't walking towards him. One of them had a bottle of water in his hand, and they were heading towards the bass-playing boy. The teenager was so absorbed by his playing he didn't notice the guys coming up to him. The group walked next to him, and the one that had the bottle, tipped it over the bassist's head, the water it contained falling onto the boy. 

Jamie cringed again as the group cackled, watching the teenager try to comprehend what had just happened, his mouth opened, his eyes squeezed closed to keep the water out, his hair, face and jersey soaked. 

"Having a shower, Stuart?" 

'Stuart' blinked, astonished, drying his glasses with a sweep of his sleeve. The others laughed louder. Stuart seemed to finally understand what had happened, and stood up violently, rushing to the guy with the bottle. 

"You fucking!"

He was pushed off, falling on his back in the grass. Within the time he sat up, one of the bullies had grabbed the beige bass. Stuart gasped. 

"No! Give her back!"

They continued to cackle.

"Her? It's your girlfriend, Stuart?" the one that had the instrument in his hands sniggered. "No wonder why, how could you find a REAL girlfriend looking like that!"

Stuart seemed to take the hit without a reaction, staring at the bass.

"Give. Her. Back. Now." he hissed.

"But I don't want to! I need wood for the chimney tonight, maybe your... Girlfriend could help me?" he said, looking at the bass with a grin.

"N-no..." Stuart suddenly seemed to sink. "No please don't do that..." he said in a trembling voice.

The boy rose the bass above his head with a grin. Jamie gasped, and Stuart screamed.

"NOOO! I'll do anything you want but please don't break her! Please!" he yelped. 

The bully sniggered again, and lowered the bass, before throwing it to Stuart, who caught the heavy instrument with a sigh.
He slipped the bass back into its case hurriedly. 

"Anything, you say?" the bully smirked. 

Stuart gulped. 

"Just leave me alone." he said softly, and Jamie was struck with pity, pressing his sketchbook on his chest. 

"Aww... Poor Stuart baby is upset, ain't he?"

Stuart cringed and squeezed his bass against his chest. Jamie hid behind his sketchbook, pitying the boy. 

"Now that's what you're going to do" the bully grinned, before lowering his voice. Jamie still heard, though. "You see that long-haired fag with the eyeliner there?" Jamie stiffened up. "Go and..." The guy's voice faded in a whisper.

Jamie swallowed, and stumbled to his feet, heaving himself up from the ground. Stuart walked towards him, looking terrified. 
Jamie grabbed his bag, his back pressed to the tree on which he had previously been leaning on.
Stuart planted himself in front of Jamie, and bit his lip, his eyes full of tears.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, and leant in, pressing his lips to Jamie's. 

The short teenager tried to escape the kiss first. 
A guy was kissing him, ugh ugh ugh. Then he realised he couldn't pull away, and whimpered, trying to kick the poor Stuart away. Someone started to take photos, and Jamie felt Stuart start to move his lips timidly. Jamie let him do, though. It wasn't that bad.
Then Stuart pulled away, swallowed, and ran out of the park under the mocking sniggers. 
The lead bully threw the empty plastic bottle at Jamie and it hit him in the head as they walked away. 

Jamie exhaled, and picked up his bag.

It never ends.