Untill Somebody Gets Hurt...
Kevin Jordice was walking home from school on any typical Thursday. Well, it was more like running really. It’s actually a wonder he’s such a slow runner, because he ran home everyday to escape Jones McCarson, a notorious bully. Jones was average height, but thickly built, muscular. On the other hand, Kevin was slightly taller than Jones, but skinny, not an even match. Anyway, Jones McCarson was chasing Kevin, and thankfully, Jones was also slow. But today Jones must have had a Redbull, because he caught up with Kevin, so basically Kevin was dead meat.
Jones slammed Kevin on the concrete sidewalk, and stood above him. Jones leaned over so his face was parallel with Kevin, then spat on Kevin, right in between the eyes. Kevin wiped away the spit, and attempted to stare Jones down. It must not have worked, because Jones just smirked and shoved Kevin’s head into the concrete. Kevin tried to resist the sanding of his face, but Jones was just too strong. When Jones was through grating Kevin’s face, he kicked Kevin in the kidneys. Kevin’s body shrunk as he curled into the fetal position, bracing himself for more abuse. But today, Jones desired a new form of beating was necessary. He was feeling that he should “switch things up.”
Jones picked Kevin up by the shoulders, and threw him onto the grass of the park. While Kevin was recovering from the shock of the throw, Jones picked Kevin up again, and threw him, farther this time. Jones threw Kevin again, and this time, Kevin’s back hit a rock. A loud snap echoed through the trees. After a second of silence, Kevin’s bloodcurdling scream shattered the calm, and Jones’ face fell.
Kevin was taken to the ER. Jones stayed in the waiting room for five hours, waiting for news on Kevin. The hospital staff, who didn’t know who Jones was, began calling him “Kevin’s buddy”. Jones wouldn’t talk to anyone who came up to him. He stared at the floor, not moving, rarely even blinking; when finally a nurse came out and told him Kevin was ok. Jones looked up at the nurse. “Kevin broke a rib. Do you know what happened?” Jones took a moment to answer. He scrunched his eyebrows together, and then told her “No.”
From that day on, Kevin ruled over Jones. From the time Kevin came to school with a torso cast, to several days after the removal of it, Jones carried Kevin’s books. Even if Jones’s classroom was on the other side of the school from where Kevin was, Jones carried Kevin’s books. He brought Kevin’s hot lunch to him when ever Kevin bought. Jones went through a sort of enlightenment. He was no longer loud and obnoxious; he had became silent, pensive. Jones friends stopped talking to him, scared that his behavior might rub off on them.
Then one day, on an ordinary Thursday in January, as Jones was carrying Kevin’s backpack (as well as his own), he told Kevin something. He talked slowly, thinking every word out carefully before he said them.
“Kevin,” he started. Jones had stopped walking, causing Kevin to stop as well. “I just wanted to say,” he thought really hard, and he showed signs of an internal struggle. He stuttered a bit came out, struggling to make them sincere. “I’m sorry.” He looked meaningfully at Kevin, who seemed slightly shocked at this confession. Jones on the other hand had begun looking at the ground intently, as if searching for an answer.
Kevin then smiled, and awkwardly patted Jones on the back. “It’s ok Jones-y. I forgive you.”
ps: HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIGE!
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