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Book online «Keep Fighting, Tracci Fisher [books to read for self improvement .txt] 📗». Author Tracci Fisher



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"Really?"

 

She just nodded. "I was bullied a lot last year. I wasn't physically bullied, but there is a scar in my mind from what these girls said to me. They made me feel like I was nothing."

 

I should have known that she was a victim in some way. "I'm sorry." I said. I felt sorry for her. "But you know that they were wrong, right? You're not nothing, you're you."

 

She nodded. "I know."

 

One of the adults on the porch called out for the kids to come inside. Emily stood up.

 

"I have to go. It was nice meeting you Alex," she walked up towards the porch before turning back, "and thank you for saying what you said."

 

She turned back and started walking back to the porch. All the kids were now gathering up their jackets and wagons and climbing the steep incline up the hill. Some of the parents were helping them up. I stood up and was about to leave when I heard Emily call out to me.

 

"Be careful walking around here. I've seen Jason and some other bad kids around the area when it gets dark." She called.

 

I told her I would try to be careful and that I wouldn't stay out that late. She looked reassured as she went inside. I walked back to the side and started for the park again.

 

The reason I was heading for the park was the cause of an old habit. When I was still a victim my freshman year, I used to walk to the park at night and watch the reflection of the moon against the small duck pond in the patch of woods behind the playground. The only way there was a dirt path only a couple feet across. Not that I was finding myself back in the grip of past experience through new scars, I guess my mind just began to drift back to the duck pond. I wondered how much it had changed over the years.

 

The sun was almost out of sight, but the colors still remained. The park was just a silhouette against the purple sky. The only other creature at the park beside me was a middle-aged woman walking a pampered little purebred, but she was just getting up to leave. I kept my hands in my pockets and zipped up my hoodie against the sudden wind trying to sneak up through the half-naked trees. I searched for the invisible path through the maze of towering oaks. The path was marked by the imprint of a leaf that had become stuck in the mud path before it dried up. I followed the path through the woods to the pond. The water in the pond was clear and reflected the colors of the sky above.

There were a couple of ducklings chasing each other across the pond. Their mother was sitting on the edge watching them carefully. There was a wooden bench on the side of the pond closest to the mother duck. I was careful not to scare her as I sat down. The bench creaked under me, and I froze and looked at the mother duck. She turned and looked at me, but then just looked back at her ducklings. I sat there watching the ducklings with her. One of the ducklings was smaller than the other. The bigger one was chasing him around and trying to nip at him. The mother swam out to them when the bigger duckling started playing rough. I checked the time on my phone. It was almost eight. I stood up before thinking about the mother duck, but she didn't fly away. Instead, she just looked at me as if she wondered if something was wrong. As I walked away, I saw her turn back to her ducklings again.

 

The sun was gone and the stars were out. The park was empty. I made my way to the sidewalk and stare at my shadow on the concrete. It would grow and shrink with every car that passed me by. The wind whistled through the bare branches of the small, neatly trimmed trees equally distributed down the edge of the road.

I was about to turn down my street when I heard someone running towards me. I turned just in time to see a boy run past me. He sounded like he was almost out of breath, but he didn't stop. It was almost like he thought he was going to die if he did. I didn't see his face before he passed. I watched him run out of site. I was curious of why he was running. That's when I heard someone else behind me. "Out of the way!" he yelled. I turned to see that the runner was Jason. He looked determined. I was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I wanted to move out of the way, but my feet were stuck in place. Instead of going around me, Jason forcefully pushed me off the sidewalk and into the ditch.

My hand hit the rocks at the bottom of the ditch. I carefully stood up and examined my wounds. My hands were covered in scratches, and there was a gash in my arm by my elbow. My clothes were caked in dirt and mud. I wiped off the dirt and climbed out of the ditch.

Now I knew why that boy was running, or at least what he was running from. I started to race after them, but I stopped. I promised my mom and Rachel that I wouldn't get myself back into trouble. But I also promised myself that I wasn't going to let another kid become a victim. I argued with myself. Was I going to be safe and just go home and call the police, or was I going to stop being just a bystander and do something. That's when I thought about something that made me sick to my stomach. Jason had nothing out here that would keep him from killing this boy. He was expelled after the incident at lunch and his parents had pretty much disowned him, at least that's what I heard from my dad. It was decided. I started running again and kept an eye on my surroundings for something that would help me find them.

I was starting to think that I would be too late. This thought made me feel sicker. That's when I saw two sets of fresh footprints through the dirt and down a small hill to a water fountain. I couldn't see anybody in the dark, but I could hear whimpers in the dark under one of the trees. I ran down the hill, almost tripping over a root sticking out of the ground. I started seeing the silhouettes against a tree. I ran closer. The whimpering and heavy breathing became louder. My heart was racing. I kept thinking, what am I doing? I could see Jason and the boy clearly now. The boy had curled up into a ball and Jason was standing over him kicking him in the ribs. The boy saw me and mouthed the words "help me".

 

I yelled at Jason. "Let him go Jason!"

 

Jason stopped momentarily and turned to me. He started laughing. "Wait your turn." He cackled.

 

Do something, I yelled at myself, don't just stand there! I grabbed the back of Jason's shirt and pulled him down.

 

"I said leave him alone!" I yelled.

 

He stood back up and looked me straight in the eye. He looked angry but then grinned as he reached for something in his back pocket. He pulled out a pocketknife and smile.

 

"And I told you to wait your turn."

He flipped open the knife and turned it around in his hand. I couldn't take my eyes off the blade as it gleamed in the low light. He was laughing. My heart was beating loud in my ears like a drum beat.

Jason backed away from the boy and started toward me. I started backing away and up the hill. I didn't take my eyes off him.

"You picked the wrong person to mess with Walker. There's nothing stopping me from stabbing your ass right now." He cackled.

I was thinking about how I could get him away from the boy. I backed away a bit more. He matched my movements.

"I know, you probably will," I tried to grin through my fear, "but you'll have to catch me first."

His smile turned sour as I started to run up the hill. Half way up the hill I turned to see if he was still behind me. He was. I started to smile. It worked! I turned back again to see how far he was. I didn't see the root infront of me and I tripped.

I fell against my shoulder on the ground. I turned so that I was on my back just in time to see Jason about to jump on me. I put my feet up and kicked him down before the knife in his hand could make contact with my skin. He fell to the ground. I stood up and held my shoulder.

I started running down the sidewalk away from my street. Jason's footsteps sounded almost like an echo of mine. I could hear heavy breathing but soon realized that the breathing was my own. I darted across the street and down the sidewalk along a row of cookie-cutter houses. My chest was starting to burn and I could feel my energy being drained. Jason was getting closer as I started losing speed. He was going to catch me any moment now. I looked back and saw the knife gleaming with every street light.

Jason was right behind me. I could feel him trying to grab hold of the back of my shirt. Chills went up my spine. I pushed myself to run faster, but he had already taken hold of the back of my collar. He pulled forcefully on the collar, sending me to the ground. I hit my head against the concrete. Jason stood staring down at me with a menacing grin spreading across his face.

"Time to finish what I started." He cackled.

He drew his leg back and brought it forcefully against my side. The sharp pain in my side rippled through my body. I cried out through my teeth. I rolled to one side, but Jason pushed me back. He started kicking me again with less intensity, but it still felt unbearable. After a minute he stopped. I was coughing; it hurt to breath. He started walking slowly to my other side. He was laughing.

"I'm surprised you're lasting this long. I had just started on that little loser back there and he already looked like he was gonna croak right there," he pointed back towards the hill, "and yet, you're still concious."

He pulled back his leg like the hammer on a revolver. "Let's see if you survive round two."

His leg swung down towards me like a pendulum. I rolled off the sidewalk and into the road. The momentum behind Jason's leg when it missed brought him the ground. It was just like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football.

I stood up swiftly and ran down the street, holding my throbbing side. I couldn't run very fast, and Jason was already gaining speed. I told myself not to look back. I was limping along as fast as I could. Jason's footsteps sounded close but I didn't know how close.

"Walker!" He yelled, almost in my ear.

I made the mistake of turning towards him. He was only feet away. He swung at my face and his fist made contact with my left cheek. I put my hand to my cheek and turned to him again. I put up my arms in defense. I looked through the space between my arms just in time to see him swing the blade. I ducked in time, but I lost my balance and fell to the ground. He started running towards me, still swinging the knife. I had to keep jumping back to avoid him. My foot caught the curb and I

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