"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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ifnotwinter
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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Dom barely had enough time to start to squirm backwards before Phil had him by the scruff, fingers painfully tight over his collar and neck. He couldn't stop himself from yelping, scrambling to stay on his feet and failing miserably as Phil shoved him backwards. He landed hard on the ground, head snapping back and rebounding off the ground hard enough to make him momentarily see stars. Reflexively, he started to curl into a ball as Phil continued to taunt him.

With the boy's final comment, Dominic looked up - and jerked back just in time to avoid a claw across the face. The movement overbalanced him again and he toppled for a second time, unable to crawl away as Phil sunk a kick into his side. Tears squeezed involuntarily out of his eyes, chest heaving as he struggled not to cry. He had barely been physically bullied - he was generally inoffensive enough to avoid the worst of the angry teenagers, and the simple feeling of another human being inflicting pain - deliberately, at that - was enough to make awkward sobs start to force themselves from his throat. As Phil stomped away, he curled a little tighter around his aching ribs, tears, snot, and dirt mingling into a smeared mess over his face.

He barely moved as the flashlight bounced off his back, uncaring. Repeating in his head, now, was the slow and painful realization that this was it. This was how it was going to go. He wasn't strong - he wasn't the fittest. He would never be. The island would be where he would die, surrounded by students who were suddenly realizing they could indulge their wildest urges.

Part of him wanted to join him, screamed for blood, cried out to be allowed to be the bully, for once. But he knew he couldn't. That person...that person was not him, would never be him, could never be him. He would be the victim, the same as the tiny animal victims he had cared for so many times. Sometimes they'd lived.

Sometimes they'd died.

He was going to die.

Beyond shame, beyond embarrassment, beyond caring, Dominic Stratford buried his dirty, tear-stained face in the dust and cried. For himself, and for all the students, and most of all Dominic cried because he was going to die here, and that was just the way it was going to go.
Edited by ifnotwinter, Aug 10 2010, 12:29 AM.
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matt mckinnon


inside leg to outside hand
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lydia hausen


move past move on move up
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lexie diaz


light it up burn it down


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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Everybody's Changing · The Felled Forest: North