But I was wrong.
Because I chose to be happy, this world decided to take everything from me as soon as I began to feel peace. This world has a twisted sense of humor, doesn't it?
How, you may ask? It all started the next day. The sun was as hot as ever, beating down on the school field where I and some other kids played.
The sun was as hot as ever, beating down on the school field where I and the other kids played soccer, laughing and shouting till evening. We were a mess of sweaty bodies, soaked jerseys and sand-kicked-up from head to toe, but we were free.
The scene transitions...
It's 3:45 pm, and I just scored the final goal. A roar erupted from my team around me, cheering and chanting my name. I soaked it in, grinning from ear to ear. The opposing team, though they didn't take it well, congratulated us on our win, promising to beat us next match. They sneered at me as they gather their stuff, their blue and white striped jerseys stained with sweat and sand.
Something about that look they gave me didn't sit right. Like they were plotting something.
I stood at the edge of the field the scorching sun beating down on me like a relentless drumbeat. The taste of victory still lingered on my lips, but it was quickly soured by the sound of a snicker, followed by a mocking voice.
"Hey, weedhead!"
I ignored it, focusing on gathering my things. But the voice grew louder, more insistent. A hand landed on my shoulder, forcibly spinning me around.
"Didn't you hear me call you, you dumb weedhead?"
I opened my eyes, meeting the sneer of a guy around my age, with a bob cut and a physique that screamed "jock." His eyes blazed with a mix of anger and entitlement.
Ah, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you speak... were you talking to me?" I asked, forcing a fake smile.
The guy's grin grew wider. "Oh yeah, I'm talking to you, weedhead! Just because you scored more goals today doesn't mean you're better than us."
I chuckled, the sound low and even. "Oh, very well, noted. But my name's Harrison, not weedhead."
The guy's face darkened, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. "You're weedhead, and you're whatever I call you, and there's nothing you can do about it."
I tilted my head, still smiling. "Would you rather I call you mushroom head, then?"
The guy's face turned beet red, and he raised his fist, aiming for my face to land a punch. I dodged it easily, my hands instinctively coming up in a basic defensive stance. The crowd began to gather, their voices a distant hum as I watched the guy, my eyes never leaving his.
"What's going on?" someone asked.
"That new kid picked a fight with Jess, the best player in the school," another replied. And my first thought upon hearing that was to wonder why a jock with low self-esteem would be named Jess…how is he not the bullied one with a name like that? Is his full name Jessica?
The guy, Jess, kept throwing punches, each one landing empty air as I danced around him. And it annoyed him even more that my smug smile could never be wiped.
"Are you making fun of me?" Jess screamed, his face twisted in rage. Lowkey I was, cause what the hell, Jessica?
I sighed, my patience wearing thin. "I see no reason for us to fight, dear. I'ts just a game, stop throwing a tantrum."
Jess's fist connected with my face, and I felt the skin in my cheek tear and I felt something metallic on my tongue. I spat out blood, staggering back as I unconsciously debated I my mind whether it was worth it to actually fight this sissy.
Jess laughed, triumphant. "I did it! I finally landed a hit!" Oh, can it, Jessica, that wasn't something to gloat about
I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. My smile returned but it didn't reach my eyes, and it was cold and calculating.
"Stop it, Jessica," I said, my voice low and menacing. I had unconsciously let my humour slip.
Jess's eyes widened, perhaps he thought that realizing his real name was rocket science, and he lunged at me, but I caught his hand mid-air, crushing his fingers with a dull crunch in my grasp.
"Ah, ouch, you're hurting me..." Jess whimpered, doubling up in pain.
I tightened my grip, my smile unwavering. "I told you to stop."
A punch to the stomach sent Jess staggering back, his body crashing to the ground. The crowd gasped, some rushing to his side.
Alice appeared at my side, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and surprise. "You didn't have to hit him for that, you know?"*
I stood, my chest heaving, my vision still clearing. "I didn't want to fight, Alice. But I won't be disrespected."
Alice's gaze lingered on mine, then dropped to the ground. "Let's get you cleaned up,"** she said softly.
I nodded, my smile returning, though it was now tinged with pain. "Yeah. Let's go." I said as I walked outside the school field to the empty space behind classrooms. I sat on the concrete slab and waited for er to go fetch the first aid box. She returned shortly after and wiped my split lip with a cotton swab dampened in spirit.
"I'm happy you're this brave enough to stand up for yourself and you're strong, but how strong will you be in the face of real dangers?"*** Alice asked as she applied Methylated spirit on the wound
I hissed from the stinging pain and looked up at her, wondering why she asked me such.
"Why do you ask such questions Alice?" I just got in a small scuffle; it's not like the apocalypse was going to happen now
"Nothing really, just that you've been through so much, and I want to know your thoughts about life and everything.... but don't mind me I'm just a kid, but I..."