Unendlichkeit

“Hey loser,” Bernard mocked, kicking Bill in the shin. “Look, there ain’t any screaming fangirls around to stop me.”

Bill looked around. The bully was right. There was no one in this hallway except for him and Bernard. Bill used this old hallway a lot to make shortcuts to classes, he’d thought no one else knew about it. It let him be alone if only for a few moments.

“Go away,” Bill muttered softly, not looking up at the hefty boy two years older and about two hundred pounds heavier than him.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you little fag,” Bernard slapped the back of his neck and Bill let out a squealing sound.

“I-I’m not…” his voice cracked as he tried to stop the tears that threatened to pour down his face.

The boy stood in front of him, blocking his way. Bill held his books up to his chest, afraid he was going to hit him square in the stomach.

Bernard pouted. “I can break you in half, you little-” the bully picked him up by his shirt collar. Bill dropped his books and closed his eyes, afraid he was gonna get punched in the face.

A sudden streak of bravery came over him and before he could get punched, Bill muttered, “Well at least I don’t touch myself at night.” He instantly regretted it. Oh, the things he heard from Tom.

Bernard’s face went deep red. “I’m gonna beat the shit out of you for saying that!”

He landed a few hard punches on his face and then threw him across the hallway. His small body landed slouched against a set of old lockers.

Bill could barely breathe, but he opened his eyes slowly and looked up at the heavy boy, who was coming right at him.

A few tears streamed down his face and he felt a foot being kicked into his ribs, seven times in all.

“Stop, please!” Bill wailed, blood streaming out of his mouth.

“Oh I’m not done yet,” a blow came to his stomach and Bill felt his stomach lurch and he threw up on the white-tiled floor.

“And now I’m gonna rip that thing off your face,” Bernard leaned over Bill’s broken body and put a fat hand on his face.

He was intending to pull of the piercing of his eyebrow.

Bill was too weak to do anything. He tried to scream, but only a squeal came out.

Then the bully pulled strong on the piercing. Bill screamed-he didn’t want his skin ripped off.

“No one’s gonna save you,” he tugged again.

“Tom!” Bill screamed as loud as he could. He thought it was just his imagination, but he thought he heard footsteps in the distance.

“Not even your brother can save you,” Bernard smirked and then started singing in a baby voice, “Ich muss durch den Monsun, hinter die Welt, ans Ende der Zeit, bis kein Regen mehr fällt, gegen den Sturm…”

Slow, warm tears fell down Bill’s face. He just wanted to die, right there. He didn’t care anymore.

But those footsteps, they were real.

“Oh shit,” Bernard muttered and got off of Bill’s body.

Bill let out a sob, so weak and broken, but heard those footsteps come closer and closer.

“Oh mein Gott,” a voice muttered. It wasn’t one he recognized.

He slowly opened his eyes, his blurry vision showing him a tall boy with white-blonde hair. Bill was never seen the boy before.

“Please help me,” Bill muttered.

The body nodded, his face twisted up in worry, and he bent down and picked up Bill’s broken and bleeding body easily, for Bill didn’t weigh much at all of course.

“You’re gonna be okay Bill,” the boy said as Bill continued to cry. He had an accent, possibly French, Bill thought.

“How do you know me?” Bill muttered.

“Everyone knows you, of course. It’s kind of hard not to know the name of the biggest star in Germany.”

Bill smiled weakly. He thought fame was supposed to be nice. No more hurt, no more pain.

“Who are you,” Bill opened his eyes faintly again.

“I’m Andreas. I’m gonna take you to the hospital, okay.”

Bill nodded slowly, feeling a stream of blood pour down from his forehead.

He was so weak, and his stomach was in knots. He had a headache and he hadn’t eaten in days. With that beating and that torture all he wanted to do was die…