In search of Greatness

10:00 Friday October 6^th

There is a small window that appears in space and time where you can see everything that will happen in the next millisecond. It is when your mind decides whether to survive or to die or in my case to be punched or not to be punched.

I’m sorry to say that I didn’t duck. Maybe it was that I forgot or just didn’t have fast reflexes. Or maybe I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Either way I knew I would be lying on the floor in the dust as it congealed around my mouth sticking to my spit. Even if I had dodged it would only prolong my inevitable fate for another minute or two.

As soon as the crowd realized I wouldn’t get up they wandered off to find something more entertaining than the skinny guy with the overly sticky-uppy hair who was lying face down in the dirt with more than one blue eye. I lay there for a few more minutes wallowing in self pity. What else could I have done?

11:05

I think I only got up again at break. If I had a choice I would’ve stayed on the floor until school was over but there was a gang walking my way and I would rather not get beat up twice. I couldn’t see them but I could smell them. They either put on to much cologne or none at all.

11:06

I wandered through the school hiding from any disembodied voices or foot steps that I heard coming down the passage. I didn’t matter who it was that I met on the way to the bathroom they would all look at me the same. And the looks on their faces was not love or even fractional liking.

I reached the bathroom and before anybody could come in the door after me I holed myself up in a toilet stall. That monotonous drip of toilet water swilled me into a stupor. The pain in my face started to dull until I just couldn’t care.

The wounds around my eyes and cheeks started to burn as hot liquid trickled over the swollen and bruised flesh.

I was only ten. I was a grade four. I have a right to still be able to cry and not be looked down upon more than I already was.

11:10

I knew that I missed English class while I was lying in the dirt but I didn’t care because I knew we were doing nouns and adjectives and the like. It seemed that they went over those every single year and by now I was confidant in my abilities to differentiate between nouns, adjectives and verbs.

I had a pen in my pocket and began writing stuff on the stall walls. I just drew one vertical line and the date. I had to record how long I was going to be in the stall. It might be years because I was never coming out. I didn’t want to at all.

I was glad I decided to come to the bathroom. I could hear the sound of rain beating down on the roof of the building. I was also glad for it as it drowned out the noise of the toilet water.

11:11

School would be over in about three hours. It was only another four subjects before the whole building would be empty and I could break into the kitchen to find sustenance. Yes this wasn’t the first time I had been beaten up and locked myself in the toilets.

Eventually, I realized that I wasn’t ever going to be treated like everybody else. I was just different. Maybe it was the hair, a messy haze of black, or the eyes that contrasted so well, a honey brown or maybe it was the obsession with Pokemon that drove them to hate me.

The last thought sent cold shock waves through my body. Pokemon. I had owned one about an hour ago. A little baby Pikachu. I didn’t know what was happening to it now. They had taken it from me. Beaten me when I tried to rescue it. I was scared they had killed it. But I hadn’t the courage to leave and go and get it.

I lowered my eyes to the cracked linoleum tiles. They were brown. But I’ve heard rumours that they used to be white…

Can Pikachu protect themselves when they’re so young? I’ve heard they only develop their shocking powers when they’re a little older. My Pikachu was only a kitten.

My skin was turning white, stretched tightly over my knuckles.

“I can’t let them do this.” I muttered.

Shivering I opened the door.

11:34

I was lying on the floor again. The wood was smooth under my fingers. There was little friction as I drag my hand over its surface. Freshly polished. I could smell it.

I found a small smile creeping onto my face. It was hard to tell I was smiling what with the bruises on my bruises. I was smiling because I’d given up. Given up on this school and these people. This life.

I only had me now. Me and little Pikachu. Or what was left of him.

He was alive. Just barely. Burn marks littered his body. One ear was held at a strange angle. It was bleeding slightly. The Pokemon looked at me with black eyes. I smiled at him though I wasn’t sure he could see I was smiling.

Maybe he did because he smiled back.

It was still raining outside. I could hear it pattering against the stained glass windows. The school had a church on its grounds. It was after all a Christian school. Strange how they allowed kids to be beaten up in a holy place…

Pikachu let out a small high pitched sigh.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let this happen again. We can run away. The world is big. There can’t be people like this all over the world right?” I whispered to him but the words came out clumsily. My lips just couldn’t form the words.

I dragged myself into a sitting position and cast my eyes around the room. It was tall, brown with many rows of wooden pews stretching back to the church entrance, tall double doors framed by huge brown wall. On the church sides there were stained glass windows depicting clouds, and disciples and other religious images.

Me and Pikachu sat at the head of the church just under a huge wooden cross with a life size Jesus nailed to its arms. He looked like he too was in pain. Well more so than I was. I’d choose this over being nailed to a plank any day.

I picked my Pokemon up off the floor gingerly. It didn’t emit any squeaks of pain but I caught the grimace on its face.

They had stubbed their cigarettes out on his fur. It burnt like hell and I had the scars to prove it. They treated me the same way.

They had sliced his ear open for some reason or another. I couldn’t tell what went on in their minds when they decided to harm a little Pokemon like Pikachu. He was only a kitten.

I knew that they had filmed it too. On their cell phones. I saw them when I ran in.

“What now?” I asked gently touching a burn mark. I hadn’t known how to treat my own wounds so I couldn’t pretend I knew how to treat Pikachu’s.

Pikachu looked up at me. Maybe he was wondering why he had agreed to come how with me on that day at the pet store. Or maybe he was wondering whether now was the time to runaway if he could bear the pain. Maybe…

I cried for the second time that day. Everything was a mess. I was so tired I just wanted to fall asleep. Everything was hurting.

I stood up, wincing as the pain of a leg wound made itself apparent. I hadn’t even known I had a leg wound until I’d stood up.

I thanked God that he had decided on pews as seats for his church as they were useful to lean on as I limped down the path to the double doors: my personal salvation.

I was barely halfway there when the doors creaked open by a fraction and a petit girl who looked to be my age slipped through the gap. She caught sight of me but she averted her eyes and strode past pretending not to notice me.

I was used to it and limped out of the church and out of school without batting an eye lid. I was going to try and find a pharmacist to buy some stuff to nurse Pikachu and my wounds.

The streets were dirty and decorated with trash and crude graffiti. My house wasn’t far from school but I always walked in the opposite direction as to lead potential bullies away from my home. Everyday I would wander around the block without every going near my house so that people who wanted to come and beat me up after school or TP my house wouldn’t know where I live. I didn’t want my mother to have to deal with that too.

We had a pharmacist nearby to our house which was in the inner city. School was about a block away from my house and two blocks from the pharmacist. I limped all two blocks in the rain, pointedly looking in the opposite direction when I passed my home. As it happened my mother was hanging up the laundry as I walked passed.

She glanced at the beaten and bruised boy walking past and I knew she didn’t recognize me but she came up to me anyway and grabbed my hand. I had a cut there and it burned under her touch.

“What happened to you angel?” She asked and cupped my face tenderly in her hands. She studied me hard before saying. “You look just like my son. Same hair and eyes.”

She grabbed my hand and led me inside my house. She cleaned me up not noticing Pikachu who was held in my other hand until I showed her. She didn’t put two and two together even then and without a word proceeded to clean Pikachu up as well. I noticed her eyes straying over the burns on Pikachu’s fur but she didn’t ask questions.

“My son shouldn’t be home for a while. He tends to come home late. He has lots of after school activities. He’s such a good child. You can sleep in his bed for a while. By the time you wake up the swelling should’ve gone down and you can go home. I’ll just take your Pikachu for awhile and get him all better. He looks hungry. Is that okay?” She asked me. I took in all her details. The kind eyes. The auburn hair that trickled down onto her shoulders. The warm scent.

I nodded and watched as she smiled and took Pikachu. I walked up stairs knowing exactly where my bedroom was. I hoped that when I woke up that the swelling hadn’t gone down enough for her to recognize me. But if it had or if it hadn’t I would get Pikachu and runaway either way. I did love my mother and I wished I could stay and tell her all that happened and I knew she would try and make it all better but she had her own problems and I didn’t want to add to them.

I climbed under the sheets and went to sleep.

17:00

I woke up a good few hours later, touched my face and cursed as I realised that the swelling had in deed gone down.

I got up quietly as possible and went about packing a back pack. It was time to go. I had clothing, toiletries, money (saved up over the years) and food (mostly sweets that I saved up too). Next I needed to get Pikachu and go. I wondered if writing a letter was appropriate but she would piece the puzzle together. Or maybe she wouldn’t her puzzle piecing skills weren’t that good after what I’d seen today.

I tip-toed downstairs and saw her lying asleep on the couch. She was drooling but I smiled and got her a blanket. She didn’t stir. I then crept into the kitchen and found Pikachu curled up in a small box lined with blankets and other comforting things like a luke-warm hot water bottle.

Pikachu did stir when I touched him. He smiled weakly at me as I picked him up and held him tenderly in my hand.

“Time to go now bud.” And with that we walked out. Mom was still snoozing on the couch. My bed was still unmade. Pikachu’s healing box still left on the kitchen table.

17:10

We sat on the corner of an intersection. A bus stop sign stood beside us. I wasn’t watching the people walking passed me. They didn’t seem to notice me either. I was watching the traffic. Staring at it mesmerized until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked up and it was the girl from the church.

She looked around briefly before sitting down beside me.

“Are you okay? I saw them beating you up both times but I wasn’t sure whether I should tell anyone.” She said in a sudden gush of words.

I didn’t really care that she was there. She didn’t add any more value to my life than I already had.

“Yes I’m okay.” I answered, cradling Pikachu in my lap.

“Why are they so horrible to you?” She asked, looking at Pikachu who sniffled as if he had a cold.

“I don’t know.” I replied, hoping he wasn’t going to get ill. I didn’t want to lose him so early on in our quest.

“Where are you going now?” She shot again. She was an excellent shooter when it came to asking annoying questions.

“Somewhere.” I replied dully.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t stay here. I’m going to go to a place where no one can hurt me or find me. I’ll leave for the jungle. Cross oceans. Or just save up enough money to buy a flat somewhere away from here.”

She nodded quietly. In the next second the bus pulled up in front of us and I got on. She followed.

I sat down and she sat down next to me. I looked her up and down. “What are you doing?”

“Same as you.”

“Running away?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“Getting on a bus. Duh.”

I smirked. “Real classy.” I replied.

“What was that?” She asked menacingly.

“Nothing.” I said and looked out the window. The bus stop fell away and was replaced by shops and stores rushing by in a dull blur. We drove for hours. Well it felt like hours before we hit a suburban area. The bus kept on going and going and we were soon on the city outskirts. The girl didn’t get off the bus.

Finally the bus driver told us to get off. It was the last stop. I got off and so did she.

We stood alone as a wet breeze caressed our skin out in the open. Trees and open fields stretched away into the night. Which it was by that time.

“So? Go,” I told her. She looked back at me.

“Are you kidding? I’m not going back I’m sticking with you now.”

“What?”

“Well what did you expect I can’t let you go all by yourself. You’re only a kid.”

“Oh and you are what?”

“Hey two kids make an adult if one stands on the other’s shoulders!” She replied.

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“ It’s general knowledge.” She shook her head at me.

I wanted to cross my arms but Pikachu was in the way. I looked down at him.

“What do you say?”

End Part One