Run. Run. RUN .

My feet trudged on the concrete, sending jolts of pain up my legs. The pain was a minor, subtle thing, keeping me aware of my living.

Come on Blaine, my thoughts yelled at me, you can beat them.

Chest heaving, struggling for air, I curse my short legs and unable body. My head pounded with strain, the homophobic jeers echoed in the background.

"Go fag, but you cant run forever!" One barked.

"Yeah bitch, you deserve this!" Thundered another.

I didnt understand, why do they want to hurt me? Because I simply like another gender? I didnt fall in love with the gender, I fell in love with the person, I fell for him and he didnt reciprocate it. Now everyone knows, Riley left me here to get hurt and beaten, as if I was a random stranger.

I was crying now, at the inevitable truth of it all, he didnt care. He had laughed at me, broken my heart, and now I will have a body to match my torn apart insides. I stopped, tumbling to the ground, I didnt see the point in running anymore.

They fell on me like a pack of dogs, surrounding my small figure. I gasped for air, avoiding my fate for as long as possible. My stomach lurched, the smell of sweat and week-old trash filled my nose, adding to my nausea.

The biggest one picked my up and threw my roughly against the chipping brick wall. Lifting my limp head up to meet his cold, beady eyes, I registered him as Michael Maker, co-captain of the baseball team next to Riley.

"So, Blaine, heard about you trying to make a move on Riley." He said in spite, spitting with every word. I flinched, leering closer to the wall, wishing more than anything I could just sink into it, disappear into an utter oblivion.

I didnt want to acknowledge Michaels question, he already knew what had happened.

"ANSWER ME!" Maker screamed,shaking my flimsy body."Im asking you a question queer, now answer!"

I whimpered pitifully. Its over, my thoughts told me, done, no point. Michaels fist flashed in my vision, me straight in the noise, the obvious crack was heard as it broke. Pain exploded on my face, and blood came in a relentless flow. I bit my lip to hold back a scream, doubling over before another strike came to my stomach. Michaels shouts barely fought through my pulsing eardrums, as the blows hit me every which way.

"Oh Anderson, wheres your Riley now? Huh where?" He teased,"Hes gone off not giving a shit whether you live or die. Bet you feel sorry for ever showing you nasty face around here!" The other boys joined in on his banter.

"Little fag."

"Deserves every bit of it."

"Hit him harder Mick!"

Their slang rang in my ears, I could feel my breathing slowing and my heart racing faster than it should be. I saw the glint of silver, a knife, I registered. Michael grinned like the joker, slashing roughly through my skin. My blood was everywhere, shockingly contrasting against my crisp white dress shirt, my head fell on my shoulder, watching blood drip from the tip of my nose onto the dirty concrete.

I came to realization I might die here. I didnt want to die. I still had my whole life ahead of me, rest on high school, a job, a family. I was only a freshman! What did I do to deserve death? I felt the ending shadowing over me.

They say, when life flashes before your eyes, that you see what is important to you, but I felt blind. Nothing struck out for me to remember, is was an empty slate. Present has never held anything worth remembering.

My life was ending, lonely, desolate, without any hope in a dark alleyway in Ohio.

I was certain of my end, then, out of nowhere, I heard sirens off in the distance. Police.

Michaels eyes widened, "Shit we have to run, come guys!" He squawked in panic. They were out of there faster than I had ever seen anyone run before, not looking back, leaving me for dead. I didnt care, I might live. I heard the sirens come to a full stop, outside the alley.

"Help!" I screamed weakly, my voice was fading, I was so dizzy. "Over here, help!" Everything was going, it felt like drowning, I couldnt get enough air. I saw a police officer come over to my alley, and point to me, running over and kneeling by me, shrieking.

I was gasping, coughing, unable to get air. Lungs were suffocating in blood. I forced my eyes open, everyone was rushing around me now, picking me up from the ground and putting me on stretcher. It was so bright, and too many things were happening, I was panicking. I couldnt catch my breath. I hate struggling. I have spent my whole life struggling, fighting for everything.

I was not done.

I wasnt giving up this time.