You Are Everything, But My Hero

Your words burned off my lips as I whimpered softy. Only to be slapped in the face by the back of your hand. I fell to the ground in pain, the led gloves you wore scaring my face. You knelt down in front of me caressing my swollen cheek.
“You’re so precious to me,” you smiled your corrupted little smile. I was almost too scared to move. I heard my name shadowing off in the distance. The little animals arrived in the shadows behind you. Then the wind blew the candles out and everything went dark.
“-ex! ALEX!” I awoke so suddenly that I fell from my chair. The students in my class stared at me as the teacher hovered above me tapping her foot,
“Mark, if you fall asleep once more in my class I will assign you thirty chapters of homework,” she said crossing her arms.
“Y-yes, sorry Mrs. Fromidore.” I scratched the back of my head as students snickered.
**BRRIIIIINNNGGGGG**
Class is over. “Thank god,” I thought rushing out the door only to run into the ‘bully of the school’. Damn. He glared at me as I backed up. He was big and had a lot of muscle, I was scrawny and even though I had a six pack he beat me up all the time. I flipped up my hood and apologized running passed him. One of his friends tripped me. CRASH!! I feel to the floor in pain my backpack slamming down hard on my back.
“Loser,” he chuckled kicking me in the gut once and walking away. His friends laughed behind him.
“Bastards,” I clutched my teeth together and punched the floor as I stood. Everyone was looking, but when I stood they all went back to their conversations. My eyes watered as I felt my once broken rib crack back out of place. It hadn't healed since the last time I almost got beaten to death and that kick didn't help at all. I limped down the stairs trying not to make it look obvious that I was in pain. I walked silently down the hall to the gymnasium where basketball practice was starting. I sat in the bleachers and opened my laptop and wrote away all my troubles… I had started a blog which was recommended by one of my online friends. I had only one friend that I hadn't met online, but he was in the hospital with a disease of some description. In my blog I wrote on the Bully, I wrote of the dream I had in class. Of my friend, of my teachers. I wrote of the game being played out in front of me and how it slightly resembled my own life. I wrote of my father who I had previously written of. I stopped when I reached the topic of my sister. She was the only one who ever paid attention to me; I cried my heart’s content when she passed away two summers ago. Her funereal was touching; they played the song that me and her used to listen to. She wrote it in her will to play it. Ever since then I've taken on her dream of being a musician. She was so close to; she played the guitar and was really good at it. She made up a band of her closest friends and they even started to go to gigs. The name of their band was a little shaky, they couldn't figure out a name. I told her that they should have named it Sleeping Soldiers, because it was the name of the first song she ever sang for me. In the end though the other members hated the name and went with something less depressing. I learned to play guitar and became really good at it. I told no one of what I planned to do except for my music teacher, who also happened to be my councilor, he told me to work hard every day. He used to help my sister out when she was having troubles, whether it was with the guitar or at school. His name is Jason Makoeding. He always tells me that I won’t ever excel passed my sister unless I practice every day. I want my sister to be proud; I want her to look down on me and smile. A basketball that came flying towards me snapped away my thoughts, I looked up when I heard someone yell. The ball looked to be four feet in front of me. I moved my head quickly to the side feeling the gust of wind from the ball whip past me. I heard it slam against the wall behind me and drop on my keyboard… which somehow managed to press the Submit bottom. Life today equals miserable.
“Hey! Sorry! My hand slipped!” A boy shouted, I blinked a little dazzled.
“Yeah, right. You were totally trying to hit him.” Another boy argued. I shut my laptop and placed it aside standing uncomfortably.
“Ohhhhhh, he’s pissed now. Better run Lukas!” yet another boy from the other side of the court yelled. I bent over, ouch. I guess I had forgotten that my rib was cracked. Tears brimmed the corners of my eyes, but I picked the ball up anyway. I moved the ball from one hand to the next examining its weight. I bounced it once of the seat and caught it firmly in my hands. I align my fingers to the stitches and shoot the ball toward the net. Swish, it goes in without a thought. The basketball member’s oh and awe as I simply smile at myself.
“Wow,” I hear ‘Lukas’ say in amazement. I picked up my laptop embarrassed and walked down the stairs. “Hey, wait. Tell me your name, you’re really good,” Lukas called happily. It wasn't like I was trying to get it in, it just goes in. Basketballs not really that much of a complex sport if you narrow it down. Just aim and shoot. It’s a lot like archery or firing a gun, two things I do very well.
My names “Markuson, call me Mark,” I smiled and walked out the door, right after the door shut a nerdy kid tripped me with his trombone. And again, ouch. A tear rolled down my cheek and I almost screamed in pain. It only reminded me that life wasn't over yet, and that tomorrow will be the same. Maybe I won’t go to the gymnasium anymore. I’m sure Jason will let me have the key to the roof. Maybe I just won’t go to school at all. I placed my hands in front of me for support only to feel shoes in the way. I looked up to see a guy with his hand extended and a smile on his lips.
“Hey,” he said pulling my arm up, “it doesn't look very comfortable down there.”
“Probably because it’s not,” I stood with his motion and put my arm across my stomach to help with my rib.
“If it’s not comfortable, then why are you on the ground?” he looked dazzled.
“…….” I hesitated, wondering why he was being so nice “I tripped.”
“Oh, well try to be a little more careful,” he smiled gently. “By the way, do you know where the science class is? I’m a bit lost.”
“I was going that way anyway, I’ll show you,” I tried to smile, but I couldn't find the energy.
“Oh really? Sweet thanks!” he smiled excitedly.
“Not a problem,” I glanced over at him. He walked relaxed and freely. I walked slumped over slightly, nervous and cautious. I don't know how I feel about this new found attention.