Mystery of the locket

“Pass the ball to me!” One of the boys I share the room with shouts to the other. His face showed his happiness.

“Catch it!” Another threw the ball towards him, and he caught it without missing a step.

“I told you to pass the ball, but you threw it!” He shouts.

The tone he made use of might make it sound like he's angry, but in truth, he's not.

He instead beats his chest. “You can see how good I am at catching a ball.”

I sat at the extreme as I watched them. My knees tucked in. My hands, gripping the locket, I'm always with.

Today makes it thirteen years I've been here. Thirteen years of staying to myself. Thirteen years of nothing but pain, sadness, and darkness. Nothing moves.

Others have made friends. Some lucky ones have been adopted into families, but the same can't be said for me. No one wants me as a friend, to talk more of a son.

It doesn't help matters, I have eyes, unlike others. Most times, they always talk about how strange my eyes are. Unlike others, I have dark violet eyes that can be mistaken for purple.

Eyes that make all who see me avoid me.

Most times, I wish I were born blind. Then would I have had peace of mind?

No one will in any way make fun of my eyes and their strange, unusual colour.

*

“You sucker!” One of the boys from the same room as I pushed me to the wall. A dark look on his face as he glared down at me.

“What did I do?” I stood straighter.

A bad move on my part.

All these years of being bullied by others should have taught me it's better to endure things, and not talk back at all. But I don't seem to listen, and that always has me ending up in the clinic.

I know all that happens when I talk back, but I can't seem to hold myself back from doing so.

It's more like another soul is controlling the things I do.

“You dare talk back!” Pushing me to the floor, he kicked me on my stomach. His hard laced shoe caused me more pain than I've known.

“Stop it!” I curl on the floor. My hands clutched to my empty stomach.

“He's still talking.” The others sneered at me. “Teach him a lesson, Gal. Show him not to talk back!”

Their chants seem to fuel him on. It made him hit me more.

The pain became much until I can't take it anymore.

“Please stop.” I silently begged him. Blood dripping from my mouth. “Please stop.”

I don't think I can take more of the beating. My fragile body is in its yielding state. I don't think I'll survive it this time.

“What? What did you say?” He kicked me on my legs.

A whimper escaped from my mouth. My legs aching like no man's business.

It's obvious now, that I'm about to die. The only thing that's keeping me from doing so is another kick. Should he kick me in the stomach, I don't think I'll survive it at all.