Chapter 8 Chapter 8: Not safe

Milo

I soon realized that this place was not safe for me. I should have left sooner, yes. My counselor at school used to tell me that sometimes, when someone is trapped in a bad situation, it becomes difficult to truly understand what is happening because you start accepting everything as if it were normal. Now I understood what she meant.

The fact that my family hit me, humiliated me, degraded me, and constantly mistreated me was not discipline or simply “the way they were.”

And it was precisely by stepping away from that environment that I finally realized how toxic it had been. Unfortunately, college was not the safest place for me either. I was alone.

I had no other option but to go back to my room… with Blake.

I held onto the hope that maybe Blake would be gone, right? He had money. Maybe he would be somewhere else… in the Bahamas, who knew?

The following night, I gathered my things and placed them inside a backpack while keeping my injured arm supported with an improvised sling. I nervously walked into the kitchen to grab some food. I already had experience trying to stay unnoticed, walking on eggshells; it had become my normal way of living.

And yet, this time was different. This escape felt more dangerous. I was leaving through the back door when I heard my father’s voice shouting, as if he had woken up, and my dog immediately began barking.

"Damn dog!" my father yelled angrily.

Apparently, my poor dog had done everything he could to help me escape. And I took the opportunity.

I ran down the road, choosing the longer but safer path, making sure no one saw me.

"Stupid boy! Come back here!" I felt like a rat running away.

My heart pounded loudly in my ears. When I finally reached the bus station, I felt safe.

"Morgan…" I smiled when my dog appeared. He looked exhausted, but he was okay.

"He didn’t hurt you, did he? " I asked while scratching behind his ears.

He was not very big, but he was strong. I knew that. I ran my hand through his fur, and I felt tears filling my eyes.

"I can’t take you with me, not yet, buddy, but I ´ll come back,"

My bus was about to leave, and I had to say goodbye to him.

But a couple of miles, the bus stopped.

"It looks like there’s a problem ahead. We have to take a detour," the driver announced. The bus stopped to get gas, and I stepped out to use the bathroom when I came face-to-face with familiar faces.

"Look what we have here…" one of the boys muttered.

I immediately recognized that he was part of Blake’s group. There were also some of Cameron’s friends, the same ones who had tormented me back in school.

I froze. Some of them were shirtless and barefoot, and they looked as if they had been… fighting.

What the hell?

"Grab that stupid nerd!"

I started running back toward the bus, but one of them tackled me and I fell face-first onto the ground.

"What’s wrong, nerd? Are you scared?" one of them said as he approached me with a mocking smile. "You should be."

"Help! Help!" I screamed.

But they dragged me behind the gas station building. I was shaking, and I barely had time to see them clearly before they attacked me, hitting me in the face and making me turn as blood filled my mouth.

They began surrounding me, making my entire body tense because... This was not like the fights I had suffered in school.

This was as if they actually wanted to kill me.

"Come on, look at him. He still thinks he can defend himself!" another one said between laughs. "You’ve always been the same. A weak nerd who thinks too much and does nothing."

A direct punch to my stomach made my body fold over as I struggled to recover the breath that seemed to have been knocked out of my lungs. I heard their voices mixed with laughter as more hits landed on me, some against my face, others against my shoulders, and several more across my body while I tried to protect myself as best as I could.

"What’s wrong, loser? Don’t you have anything to say?" one of them shouted as he pushed me.

"Pussy!"

"Freak!"

My arm would not respond the way I needed it to, and every attempt to lift it sent a sharp pain through me that drained whatever strength I had left. The ground was cold against my face as I felt blood mixing with the dirt and heard their voices above me. One, two, three hits landed against my legs and my stomach while I curled into myself, trying to protect my injured arm and my face.

My entire body was in pain.

They did not give me time to recover before another blow came. One of them stepped on my foot while another grabbed my hair and pulled.

When would they stop?

Amid all that confusion, I felt a different kind of pain, sharper and more intense than anything before, when one of them bit into my ribs with unexpected force before pulling away while the others continued attacking me. The pain made me close my eyes for a moment, trying to understand what was happening, but my mind was too focused on surviving that moment.

Then I heard barking, and the boys started shouting.

"A dog! A damn dog!"

No, no, no…

It was Morgan.

He had followed me. "Morgan, no!" I screamed, lifting my face off the ground.

From where I was lying, I saw my dog as they grabbed him.

Did they hurt him?

No, please.

"No!" I screamed.

But one of them struck me in the face, and I fell back down. My eye burned, and I could barely see. I heard howls, and I heard my dog crying, and at that moment, I simply gave up fighting.

They laughed and attacked me again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they stopped hitting me, and I heard their footsteps moving away. But one of them remained.

He placed his boot against my neck and leaned down close enough for me to hear him.

"Stay away from us, do you understand? This is only a taste of what will happen to you if you mess with our kind. Keep your hands away from our family, bastard."

Kind? Family?

When I turned my head, I recognized him. It was Cameron’s friend, Joshua, his kind of bodyguard. He was huge and terrifying.

So it had something to do with them, even though… I had never gotten involved with them, really.

"Leave him there. Let him learn his place, trash," I heard him say before walking away.

I remained lying there, without the strength to chase after them or even try to stand up. My body was covered in bruises, my face throbbed with pain, my injured arm was completely exhausted, and I stared up at the sky… Wishing I could disappear.