The Girl

“Hey, weakling, you have no place in our society! You probably are faggot!” big boy kicked him in the stomach. “When will you finally disappear, weakling?” the second one spat on him. The third one was watching it with scorn. Then bullies got tired of tormenting their victim and went away. When he was sure that they were gone, Jesse stood up, shook off the dust and went home from school. He was 14 years old.

One day some girl showed up in Jesse’s class. She had transferred from another school. The girl was very bubbly and loud. Everyone loved her.

A few weeks had passed. It was extremely strange, but she had become friends with Jesse. Sometimes it seemed that she was paying even more attention to him than others, but he always quickly rejected this idea. It couldn’t be true.

“Hey, why are you so happy, faggot?” Jesse squirmed when he heard the bully’s voice. For some time bullies hadn’t beaten him up, but today he wasn’t so lucky. When they finished, Jesse’s nose was bleeding, and they had torn apart his bag. He never cried when it happened, and this time wasn’t an exception. Then he looked up and saw her. She had seen what happened. Tears burst from Jesse’s eyes.

“Do you want to go to our usual place on Sunday?” she asked him the next day. He looked at her and couldn’t believe that she still wanted to be friends with him. “Of course,” he said incredulously.

It was a hot Sunday. Jesse was standing at the entrance of the old, abandoned scrap yard and was waiting for her. This was the usual place where they liked to spend time together. This time though she was late. Then suddenly someone tapped at Jesse’s shoulder. He looked to that side, but from the other direction came her lovely laughter. “Didn’t expect that, did you!?” she giggled. They spent the day together, having fun and laughing.

“I have to show you something,” she said in a serious voice when the sun already started to set. She took Jesse’s hand, and his heart began to beat faster. Then they both went to scrapyard’s outermost part where they usually didn’t go. Scrap iron’s sharp edges were casting long shadows on the ground.

“Look what I did!” she babbled when they arrived. Big, fat bully who usually begun to attack Jesse first was lying on his back with arms wide open. He had emboweled stomach, and intestines were curling on the ground to the other bully who usually spat on Jesse and committed weaker blows. The other bully’s spine was propped up against an old car door and he was holding in the hand the tip of fat bully’s intestine. His throat was cut. The third one who always watched the tormenting of Jesse was positioned in an upright pose between two tractor tires. He was staring with glassy eyes at his buddies. The knife hilt was looming from his chest.

Jesse’s eyes became wider and wider. It seemed that they would burst out from their sockets. The end of the world was here, at least for Jesse. She was still giggling.

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