You were finally saved when the Bad Touch Trio found you in a locker, beat up and barely conscious. Not knowing what to do, and feeling guilty at their teasing you when you were in so much pain, they took you to the nurses office.
The weather was a bit too sunny for your taste, not matching up with your less than amused disposition. You had checked out early from school today; not willing to face your classmates and not having the willpower to concentrate on classes.
'That was quite the beating...' You thought to yourself as you lightly brought a hand up to touch your blackened eye. The ice the nurse had given you helped bring the swelling down, so hopefully your mother wouldn't notice it; you didn't want to bother thinking up an excuse as to what happened at the moment.
Effort only brought headaches; and it started throbbing more when you tried to remember the order of incidents that had taken place earlier today...
The nurse had brought you back into the room she had treated you in, after the three boys had introduced themselves to you once more. You avoided the nurses gaze by gaining a sudden interest in your shoes; keeping your eyes on your shoes, you wandered over to the cot you had been lying in and took a seat at the edge; wanting to lie down, but feeling uncomfortable doing so when it was obvious that the nurse wanted to ask you a few questions.
"Sorry," Your eyes snapped up at the voice of Antonio murmuring an apology for the millionth time in the past few minutes. You hadn't realized that the trio had followed you into the room; you had been hoping that it would just be a conversation between the nurse and you; without having the pressure of peers being in the same room. Especially these peers, specifically.
You didn't bother replying, didn't bother telling him that he was fine. Their constant apologizing was starting to get a bit tiring; couldn't they see it wasn't their fault at all? They hadn't done anything; really, they didn't need to feel as guilty as to apologize every time a silence came up. And around you, silences came often. Their guilt was starting to get to you-
"What happened?" The voice of the nurse tore you away from your thoughts. She was sitting in a small black chair that seemed to have once belonged to a student's desk; holding a pad and paper to take notes on whatever she would ask you.
Jumping slightly you replied, "I-I'm not sure really. I can't remember." You mumbled the last part in a whisper; your gaze wandering around the room. Landing on the sad faces of the boys, you quickly looked away and made a mental note to keep your eyes on the ground.
The nurse eyed you warily, clearly not trusting your claim of not remembering what had happened. It wasn't surprising; many people would make up lies about who tormented them, so as to save themselves from future beatings. The nurse gave a sigh as she gently set a warm hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up into her face, full of concern about your well-being. With all the times you had visited the nurse, she was starting to get sick of your obvious lying each time. Not this time though, she wasn't going to let you get away with an 'I'm okay, really!' this time.
"_, don't lie to me this time. I know that you may have not been completely honest with me those other times, but I want this all to stop. You can't let others hurt you like this." Her eyes bore into yours with pure concern.
You resisted the urge to flinch away due to what she said. 'She knew?' you thought to yourself.
You had always seen yourself as a pretty decent liar, when the situation called for. Yes, there had been a few times when someone may have seen a bad bruise you acquired from home, or when you got bullied from the other children at school; and, yes, when the nurse had asked for an explanation, but you had lied so as to not bring more trouble and worry to yourself and others around you.
But you weren't lying this time.
"I'm not lying!" you suddenly cried out, eyebrows creasing in worry. "Honestly, everything is hazy from when I was pulled out of the locker!"
There was a sudden silence in the room as everyone processed what you had just said.
"You can't remember?" A voice other than the nurses asked, the voice laced with a hint of suspicion. You looked past the nurse to the source of the voice; at Antonio.
"I truly can't..." You replied with a whisper.
The nurse sighed lightly and politely asked, "Try please. Try remembering anything, I can't allow for this to happen again. We have to stop whoever does this, dear."
You sighed back and closed your eyes gently, racking your brain for the memories that seemed to have slipped from your mind. Flashes of the punches and blows to your body when the assailants had attacked you earlier; but for some reason, their faces, their voices... you couldn't quite pinpoint them.
A flash of red.
Nails... on a bat?
Glasses... no... sunglasses.
But the exact faces of your assaulters... you just couldn't remember who exactly had shoved you into the locker in your bruised state.
Looking up to face the nurse you said, "The only thing I can remember are small flashes of things, but I can't exactly remember what happened... all I can seem to remember was walking down the hallway and stumbling upon a group of people... I think..." you weren't quite sure about which of your memories were correct, and which ones you might be making up at the moment. A small frown tugged at your lips, "And the next thing I know, I was found in the locker..." You looked briefly at the trio, "And here I am now." You tried to grin lightly but the smile faded away. You weren't really in the mood of putting on a fake smile for this audience today.
The nurse brushed her hair back with the hand that held the pen while she slowly let a puff of air out. She could tell that you weren't lying, that wasn't what was bothering her. The fact that you couldn't remember anything was what was bothering her. What was wrong? A small account of amnesia?
"You might have gotten hit a bit hard on your head then, darling." She said quietly, "May have caused you to have forgot about what happened exactly. Just go home and get some well needed rest." She jotted something down on a piece of paper and handed it to you, "Give this to your mom; if you can't remember what happened, then you might need to see a doctor."
Your eyes skimmed over the paper, reading that it was just a quick note saying that "_ was hit on the head; she may be suffering from brain injuries, so she should see the doctor soon. Just in case."
"Thank you" You stiffly replied, standing up and walking to the exit as quickly as possible. You didn't want to stay in there if you didn't have to; too many people there with too many questions to ask you.
You thought you heard one of the trio say something, but you were out of there too hastily to have picked up what they had said.
When you felt you were a safe distance away from the office, you slowed down to a halt. Eyes shifting to the note again, you rolled your eyes. It's not like your mom was going to care about what it said anyways, she never did. The most she'd do was give you a pain killer; but that wasn't going to help. If you had brain damage, that couldn't exactly be healed with some aspirin.
Crumpling the note into a small ball, you threw it over your shoulder as you walked out of the school.
~End of Flashback~
And that was it. Afterwards, you had started to walk back home, because you decided that it would be better than facing your classmates back at school in your condition. You blinked at the sudden onslaught of memories from earlier.
Who hurt you like this? You could only wish you could remember who stuffed you in that confined space of a locker; surely you would get claustrophobia now from the time spent in there.
Your mind wandered to the three that had ended up being your savior. Wasn't it just ironic, that of all people, it had to be them? Surely, if it had been someone else they would have just left you there; but no, it just had to be the few people who could actually help that had found and saved you.
You raised your hand to settle against your heart, it has started fluttering at the thought of them, and you weren't naïve. Did you... like them?
No. No that just couldn't be possible. You should your head, trying to get that thought out of your head. There was no way they would return your feelings back; even as friends. A small smile flashed across your lips at the thought of having a friend.
It was a nice thought. Have one friend, nevertheless three, attractive, male friends. You chuckled; but it would never happen. And even if it could happen, you wouldn't let it happen. There were too many possibilities of the friendship ending in disaster.
If they found out... about you, about your depression, about your nonexistent wretched 'family' at home; they'd just leave you alone again. You just knew that would happen.
You didn't want to get hurt again. Didn't want to build up a friendship just for it to break back down.
But oddly enough, that wasn't exactly what worried you the most. It was the idea of hurting them. They had a happy life, with friends, family, love, and happiness. If they got to know you, that would all change for them. And when you could bear the pain happening to you, the thought of hurting them sent your stomach for a spin. You wouldn't let it happen. You couldn't let them get to know you.
You just had to keep pushing them away, it was the best for everyone.
Finally noticing that you had reached your house, and had just been standing outside it, you decided to finally head inside. 'The office probably called my mother to tell her that I was heading home for the day.' You frowned, it would have been nice if you could have 'sluffed' home too, but your mother didn't like the idea of you being around others too long.
You walked down the stairs to your apartment; located in the basement area of the complex. The outside of it looked so clean and cheerful, acting as a cover of what happened inside.
Your hand settled on the doorknob, deciding to settle the small argument going on in your head concerning the trio.
Your mind wandered to how happy they were with one another, about how you'd just be a crack in their otherwise perfect lives, and you thought, 'They would be better off without me.'
With that decision in mind, you turned the doorknob and entered your house.