“The hottest places in Hell are reserved for those who, in times of greats moral crisis, maintain their neutrality”

- Dante Alighieri

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“Fucking idiot,” he swore as he landed another blow against me. I fell down against the bench, my back aching with the impact. He was over me now, the same bully from my freshman year. He had only gotten worse, eventually even taking to other things. He grabbed my throat, pressing me down against the bench, his other hand cupping my bulge.

“Stupid, fucking idiot,” he growled, trying to reach towards my zipper. I lost it then, every memory came crashing down around me. With a growl of my own, I reached out and scratched at his face. He cursed when I made contact, hitting the side of his ear. He fell a bit, enough for me to lessen his hold on my neck. I let out another hit, punching the side of his head again and, this time, he fell over. I pushed him off with my leg, standing up and getting away from him as he straightened himself from the bench. He glared at me with a maniacal hiss.

He ran forward, hoping to catch me but I didn’t even notice. My hands and legs were tingly. My entire body focused solely on trying to stop him from hurting me anymore, and escaping. He let out a roar as he hit the side of my head, only just making contact when my arm came up to block the movement. I hissed at the sensation, kneeing him in his crotch causing him to keel over. I grabbed his head and kneed him again, using my foot to push him back again. He fell against the floor and I heard others come in. When they saw him and his bloodied face, they looked up at me. I met them, eye for eye, and they cowered until the gym teacher came in, shouting as he wadded in the pool of students.

He looked up and saw me, blood on the side of my head from the impact that was only the midpoint of this fight. Wide-eyed, he finally noticed the wounded and groaning student at my feet. He let out a knowing sigh, walking forward to stand between me and the bully.

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“Alright, you’ve seen enough. Get out of here, now,” he bellowed, the students complying. He picked up Jaxon by his arm, and then looked at me. Again, that sigh left his lips with a more gravelly undertone.

“Get to the office, I’m taking him to the infirmary but I don’t think the two of you should be in the same room for a while, got it?”

It only got worse. This always happened. It was the effect of paying the principal to overlook little accidents like this. I let out a sigh.

“Go fuck yourself,” I swore, pulling up my zipper and leaving the bathroom. I pushed out the gym, walking down to the office. I walked into a smaller hallway on the way, pressing myself up against the wall. I cried, harder this time. I broke down into a heap on the floor, gripping bunches of my hair.. My lungs burned, my entire body feeling as though it was being pierced with needles and my hands shook.

This entire fucking school, all these people, all these lies. I had to get up. I rubbed away the tears and snot at a drinking fountain. I tried leaning on it and attempted to get my breathing to some stable pattern. I couldn’t do this anymore, I didn’t want to. I can’t.

I finally got to the office where the receptionist was getting off a call.

“Yeah. He's just come in, thanks Ted.”

She put down the phone, folding her hands under her head. She looked at me sadly.

“Mom or dad?” She asked like clockwork. Mom was busy with a client until the afternoon, so I only had my dad.

“Look, love, I’m really sorry - for everything. I just -”

“It doesn’t matter,” I interjected, “None of you helped before, I don’t expect you to help now.”

She opened her mouth but quickly shut it, but understood. She nodded and phoned my father, explaining the situation to him before ending the call. She lifted her glasses up, running her hands across her face. She wiped down at her eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeated. She got up from the chair and asked one of the other workers to take over for her while she went to the principal’s office. She knocked on the door and got let in. It was only a few minutes before she came out, but not before she turned back and swore at the principal.

“May your fucking snake’s nest burn, you piece of shit,” she roared at him as she left. She walked in, taking a box from the printer and slamming it on her desk, shoving all her belongings in it. It was only a few minutes after that when she buzzed my dad in. She came forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me up to my feet and almost dragging me to my dad.

“You will do well not to bring him back here. He doesn’t deserve this,” she murmured to my father, her voice filled with venom. She turned around on her heel, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

"Be safe," she muttered before she left, the box under arm.