It is nothing more than an ordinary school day for the 10-year-old American boy who dresses up in a filthy, baggy shirt donated by a loaded senior student in his school. Embraced in his scrawny arms are loads and loads of textbooks with yellowish, faded pages. The bag covered in various sizes of patches is dragging him down from his back. The fiery ball of light is shining down from the top as usual, and that leaves the skinny boy soaking in his waves of sweat. The sky painted in cyan is so crystal clear that clouds are nowhere to be seen. The bells coated in layers of rust are reverberating throughout the school campus.
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“Class, one last reminder before the start of your summer vacation, do remember to have your assignments done by the start of next semester. Also, don’t forget about the project ‘my pet’ which I mentioned earlier today. Hmm…yeah, probably that’s all for today. I shall meet all of you little beasts in September. Class is dismissed for today. Have fun throughout the summer, kids,” Ms. Brown announces all the above with a charming smile worn on her slightly-tanned face.
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“No kidding, she has always been babbling like this, hasn’t she? I wonder if she’d ever get tired of her redundant speech,” Luke Smith patted the boy who is as thin as a rake with all the power he held in his palm.
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The boy makes no response. No one knows if he is already apathetic towards his boisterous neighbor who has always been roaming and roaring in the classroom where paint on the wall has mostly chipped off, at every available moment.
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“Oh yeah, tryin’ to ignore me aren't ya? Isaac Thomson, the freak, who can't befriend anyone. What a failure you are,” Luke mocks him with his hand curled in a fist, then punches straight into his face.
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Luke cackles as he sees blood splattering from Isaac’s mouth. Crimson stains then begin to intrude on his ill-fitting shirt.
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Despite the humiliation, the boy is still standing there, making no squeak of sound. But tears have already been welling up in his mesmerizing olive green eyes. Just within a few seconds, he could no longer hold back his tears. Like the glittering droplets you would witness at dawn, they flee and flow, prickle and trickle from the emerald-like eyes.
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“Oh, now what? Not only a freak you are, but also a crybaby,” Luke could not stop himself from trying to get on Isaac’s nerves.
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“Run while you still can,” a voice echoed in poor Isaac’s mind, and off he goes, squeezing himself into the surge of schoolmates.
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Being tormented by his malicious classmates is nothing new to Isaac’s life—it’s more like a routine that he is doomed to go through every day. The roads are still shimmering in the heat of the midday sun. The boy is dragging his lifeless body across the blistering cobblestone road pavements when his eyes fall on a fluffy ball dipped in engrossing gold.
Curiosity drives him to take a closer look at it. The golden furry ball is soaked with stinky sea water contaminated by the heartless factory owners who give no empathy for Mother Nature. Laying by the seashore is a feeble dog that struggles to breathe. Its eyes shut tightly as if they are being sewed. Choking, and suffocating are seemingly the last two things it would have done before death whispers into its extraordinarily huge, pointy ears.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
