Being Brave Part I

ory Agees covered his mouth as he slunk behind the locker bay. Sweat began to fall down his brow and he could feel his heart thumping against his chest. He tried to not think of the pain from the bruises he received the other night, which were given to him weekly from the neighborhood bullies. As the footsteps of Principal Stiffson drew nearer and nearer, his life flashed before him:

Cory was a very small, gangly 15 year old boy. He was not athletic, nor was he bright (though he tried his best to be), but he was never a troublemaker. Rather, the trouble came to him. He was constantly picked on and tortured by his peers and teachers for his short stature, skinny body and inability to keep up with other students. He was lucky enough to go through a day without being pushed or teased. His parents were no better, having mysteriously abandoned him one day without warning.

The private school he attended was a hell on earth for him and all the other students. No one was allowed to become friends, talk to each other except when spoken to, or even socialize on the school grounds. The principal called friendship "a waste of time." and an "interference with proper etiquette." Everyone was to follow his tyrannic rules of strict discipline and perfect scores. Anyone who even slipped up or disobeyed would face serious consequences of being expelled, suspended, or just plain given detention.

The only subjects Cory truly felt comfortable with were the arts. Music, theater and visual arts became his treasured passion. Although he wasn't the protege of the class, he always seemed welcome among the teacher and peers. Unfortunately, in recent years, the principal banned these subjects from the school grounds, firing or expelling anyone who formed any secret clubs relating to it.

There were only five people Cory could truly relate to: Tony, Camden, Katherine, Joanna, and Rachel. Together, they were some of the best friends anyone could ever count on. Each one of them had just as much difficulty fitting in as he did. That being the case, they did everything together: playing, toiling, coming up with ideas, and even forming their own secret club. As Cory was left to fend for himself, these companions of his would often let him stay at their folks' place. During those years, whenever he was around them, he had a sense of both comfort and purpose.

Alas, Cory hadn't seen them for almost a year now, not since the principal caught them playing music on the school grounds and expelled all but him for doing such. With nowhere to turn, he was taken to an orphanage where he slept on the floor in a sleeping bag, and ate morsels of food from wherever he could find in the kitchen pantry.

But today would be very different for him. For two nights before, after cleaning the bruises from the weekly ordeal with bullies, he saw from his empty house a very strange light off in the distance. He walked towards his window to see what it was, but couldn't quite figure it out. It looked like a pole of pure energy shooting straight towards the sky. At first it was frightening, but then, it turned into what seemed like a spiral of all the colors of the rainbow. For a brief moment, it filled up the entire skyline with every hue of color imaginable. Then, just like that, it disappeared.

He didn't know why, but for some reason, this small moment in time gave him a bit of hope. As he crawled into his sleeping bag, he thought for a moment of what the beam of light truly meant. Then, he came up with an epiphany. He would give this life one more chance. If he could go through an entire day without being so much as screamed at, he would continue to live there. But if Monday turned out to be as bad as all the other days, he would leave, not planning to ever return, and seek out trustworthy friends somewhere else.

Apparently, as the principal strode closer and closer to his locker, his plan didn't go as he wished. Cory looked up and saw Stiffson in all his horror. The principal gazed at what a mess he was: His clothes were tattered and torn, bruises and cuts covered his arms and legs, his eyes were so blue and swollen he could only see through the right socket, his lip was split, and his nose was still bleeding. All in all, he looked like something out of a battle zone after intense fighting.

"Principal, please let me explain," whimpered Cory.

"What the hell are you doing coming to school like this?!" snapped Stiffson

"I...I.." Cory tried to find the right words, but all that came out was heavy breathing

"SPEAK UP!!" screamed Stiffson. "Do you realize how sloppy you look right now?"

Cory bowed his head in shame

"LOOK AT ME!" yelled Stiffson.

Cory said the first words that came out of his mouth. "I tried to find the best clothes I could, but these kids in the neighborhood..."

"Oh, so that's what you do. Walk around and be all sorry for yourself. It's no wonder you've failed every class. Didn't I tell you that making friends was harmful to your education? Didn't I!?"

Cory shook in fear at the sight of his physique. Principal Stiffson was as tall as a basketball player, had a clean shaven head, and always wore clothing that was firmly pressed and neatly ironed. His face was like a combination of a robot and a tyrant Cory saw from one of his history books. But above all, he never smiled, not even on the school's good days.

"I always knew you would never amount to anything," he said as he pursed his lips at Cory. He could feel his breath above him. "Friends are going to get you nowhere, bub."

"Well maybe..." whimpered Cory "..maybe if you just gave friendship a chance."

Cory couldn't believe what he just said. It was as if he didn't think of it. A fit of rage fell across the principal's face and with one fell swoop, Stiffson grabbed him by his skinny little arm and dragged him across the hallway. Cory knew what was going to happen next, 3 weeks of grueling detention. He could feel Stiffson's fingernails digging into his skin, puncturing a big, bloody gash on his forearm. He tried to call for help, but everyone just stared nonchalantly out of fear of being punished as well.

Cory remembered the deal he made to himself the other night. Without hardly thinking, he jerked his hand away, kicked the principal in the groin, and dashed down the hallway, with Stiffson running right behind him. It was as if his instinct overcame him. He didn't even think of hitting anybody. It just happened. He bolted through the hallways, sprinted through the slippery floors, jolted through the entrance and burst out the front doors. He could overhear Stiffson in the background shouting, "You'll be dead in one year, Cory! DO YOU HEAR ME !!! YOU'LL BE DEAD IN ONE YEEEEEAAARR!."