The Downfall

"I think this punk deserves a lesson!" Marcus growled, his grimy fist clutching my shirt and shoving me against the chain link fence. I felt the metal press onto my back, the frosty air nipping my nose. Marcus was an ugly guy. To put it lightly. He had a mound of curly dark brown hair, usually greasy and dandruff sprinkled into the mix. He was tan, almost as if every day he was at the beach, along with his countering mud brown eyes. He was about my height, with the advantage of weight over my skinny frame. He wore a tattered up hoodie and stained jeans, his knuckles already bleeding from the times he hit me. I was a magnet to bullying.
"Get off me." I threatened, grabbing the fence and squeezing it in anger.
Marcus laughed, his yellow stained teeth glinting in the sun filtering through the clouds, "Or what shrimp? What could you possibly do?!"
I didn't answer, instead I stomped down on his foot, making him howl in pain. I then quickly brought on elbow to his face, feeling his nose break under the quick motion as I then gave a hard shove. Marcus fell like a bag of leaves, almost jiggling from the impact.
His pals glared at me like a lion hunting its prey, and one by one they charged me. Having done enough damage, I turned tail and ran from the schoolyard, not wanting to knock out half of my class. Yeah, High School sucks. Tell me something I don't know.
My ripped up shoes splashed through puddles as I planted under my breath, dashing through alley ways and side walks towards my foster family's apartment. Another thing that sucked about my life. My mum gave me up for adoption and I never knew my father. My breathing became more rapid as I approached my apartment. The bullies had gave up chase, but just to be safe, I didn't stop running until I pounded up the steps of our ratty building.
I nodded at the bellboy, and jogged to the elevator, smashing the up button as I caught my breath.
"Them bullies after ya again?" A low voice asked. I recognized the husky tone, it was James, my drunk neighbor.
I turned towards James, the man towering over me, "Yep. But I beat his ass."
The drug addict chuckled, scratching his balding head. He had beady little eyes and a huge belly, his green shirt stained with the alcohol scent. His sweatpants also had stains, as if he sprayed the beer all over himself.
"Tanya is gonna be pissed at that there black eye you got. Hates it when they picks on ya." James grumbled, and the elevator's doors opened. A large family of Mexicans got off, and I slipped in.
"See you James!" I dismissed myself. James gave a tired wave, "Bye Sylas."
The doors shut with a ding. The ride was short, and the walk to my apartment easy. I pulled out the key my foster mum gave me and opened the door with a click.
The key slipped from my fingers as I stared at the apartment in shock. Furniture was overturned, items strewn about. Dark blood was splattered across the walls, chasing a shiver to run up and down my spine. This was wrong. Very wrong,

Notes

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