Foresight
You walk home figuring it's better to be a coward than to be pummeled into the ground mercilessly by some testosterone laden asshole. Sure there will be some humiliation for not showing up for the fight, but you doubt anyone will blame you for it.
All things considered, this is certainly the wisest decision you can make in the position you're in.
The rest of the day passes slowly. You are constantly on edge expecting Robert to knock on the door any moment with his band of groupies waiting to pound you into oblivion. When the door opens and your father comes home you nearly stain the couch brown.
The night passes uneventfully.
The next day at school is one of torment and trauma as you are publicly ridiculed and harassed by not only Robert and his asshole-pack, but by other students who mocked you for backing down from the fight. You've always known you were a coward, but having everyone else point it out gives you a terribly shameful feeling.
The days and weeks of school pass by and you are still tormented daily by Roberts' seemingly clever antics; spilling your lunch on the ground, dunking your head in the toilet, tying you to the goal post on the football field and leaving your there, and other such nonsense that gave him great amusement and gave you nothing but pain.
One day after gym, as you are changing, he shoves you naked into the girls locker room. You are completely humiliated, and when you catch a peak of some of the girls' breasts your penis hardens and some of them point and laugh.
You dream of getting even with Robert but never actually follow through. You had your chance, after all, and you backed down.
As the years pass you grow into a man, an introverted and socially awkward man. You have no friends and the thought of actually conversing with a female terrifies you. You work in a low position for a decent company that doesn't pay much, but it pays enough to get you by and keep you living.
You still have visions of what is about to happen, but do your best to ignore them. Sometimes the realization of how completely insane it is to think that you can see a little bit into the future gets you extremely depressed to the point of suicidal thoughts. How fucking crazy am I? you often wonder.
On the night of your thirtieth birthday you reflect on your life and what a waste it has been. Your thoughts of suicide resurface and for once you do not back down, you do not chicken out.
As the blood spills from your wrists you revel in your triumph. You followed through. You are not a coward.
All things considered, this is certainly the wisest decision you can make in the position you're in.
The rest of the day passes slowly. You are constantly on edge expecting Robert to knock on the door any moment with his band of groupies waiting to pound you into oblivion. When the door opens and your father comes home you nearly stain the couch brown.
The night passes uneventfully.
The next day at school is one of torment and trauma as you are publicly ridiculed and harassed by not only Robert and his asshole-pack, but by other students who mocked you for backing down from the fight. You've always known you were a coward, but having everyone else point it out gives you a terribly shameful feeling.
The days and weeks of school pass by and you are still tormented daily by Roberts' seemingly clever antics; spilling your lunch on the ground, dunking your head in the toilet, tying you to the goal post on the football field and leaving your there, and other such nonsense that gave him great amusement and gave you nothing but pain.
One day after gym, as you are changing, he shoves you naked into the girls locker room. You are completely humiliated, and when you catch a peak of some of the girls' breasts your penis hardens and some of them point and laugh.
You dream of getting even with Robert but never actually follow through. You had your chance, after all, and you backed down.
As the years pass you grow into a man, an introverted and socially awkward man. You have no friends and the thought of actually conversing with a female terrifies you. You work in a low position for a decent company that doesn't pay much, but it pays enough to get you by and keep you living.
You still have visions of what is about to happen, but do your best to ignore them. Sometimes the realization of how completely insane it is to think that you can see a little bit into the future gets you extremely depressed to the point of suicidal thoughts. How fucking crazy am I? you often wonder.
On the night of your thirtieth birthday you reflect on your life and what a waste it has been. Your thoughts of suicide resurface and for once you do not back down, you do not chicken out.
As the blood spills from your wrists you revel in your triumph. You followed through. You are not a coward.
