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He was a bald guy, and the sun made that clear, reflecting off his head and shining it with a bright light.

He had a beard that surrounded his lips, but there were no sideburns that led to figure where it came from.

He had mean hazel green eyes, that squinted whenever he felt disgusted of anyone, or anything perhaps. He was wearing a green shirt tucked into his pants, with dress shoes that peeked out under the desk.

“So, I hear you two had a little brawl eh?” he asked, moving his eyes from me to Kirk, or at least I think so.

He sighed, and took off his glasses. He kept touching his bald head as if he was stressed more about something else than us. I guessed that due to the amount of pictures of his wife that he had on his desk.

We stayed in silence, then Kirk blurted.

.....

“It was him, he punched me first!” Kirk shouted, pointing the bore of his finger directly at me.

“You were about to punch me!” I barked back. “Self-defense, ever heard of that?!”

Mr. Broll didn’t seem quite intrigued by our very loud, clamorous argument.

“Hush!” he shouted, as the silence took in its reign once again. “I have no time for you plank-heads, so I’ll give you this punishment. Both of you are having detention for the next two weeks.”

My jaw almost dropped to the floor in shock. My eyes began to bulge. I never, ever got this bad of a punishment. Sure, he never punched me-but did you expect me to just deal with it?

Many-many times he’s assaulted people, and ya’ll don’t do nothing about it. But the second the bullied kid fights back, suddenly they’re justified? The bullied kid has to suffer as well?

I grabbed my backpack, and had no hesitation to barge into the door. I immediately went to Science class with only seething anger to cope with.

It was the end of the school day, and I was a little weary, but I remained furious about what had occurred. Now here’s where things get a little complicated. As an introvert by nature, it wouldn’t be much of an issue for me. It’s simply what my mother would say. My mother is quite insane-if she finds out what happened, I’m finished.

Thousands of students rushed out of the school, getting on their phones, and still talking about this prom. I was even more vexed, but I just went on my phone to play a little game.

Yes, I play some mobile games. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?

I began walking down the street, with cars whizzing by every second, and the breeze slapping against my face. It was just what I needed after this tiring day. The sound of the city and horns crept into my ears, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

Now I had to take the short-cut, although I wouldn’t prefer to, my mom gets suspicious whenever I’m not home when she expects me to be.

I went through this little sort of forest area, where trees were around me each and every second, crowding and almost protecting me from something I don’t even know of.

I looked around just as a quick thought, and then I returned. Then I looked back up again.

This time I stayed looking, seeing two black SUV’s that were parked by each other. Suddenly, a bunch of men, and some women were walking out, black suits and sunglasses.

I’m not sure what was going on, but my curiosity vibrated in my head with excitement.

I crept up to the next tree, making sure I wasn’t seen by them. I kept my breathing to a regular pace, but my heart wouldn’t have it.

My chest felt like it was getting ready to blow up. I desperately tried to take a deep breath, many, many times but it seemed hard to do so.

I continued to move my head slowly to where my eyes could gather what was going on.

One of the women had brown hair that was tied, and rested on the person’s shoulder. But I noticed, they weren’t wearing suits, they were wearing some onesie. Slick black from top to bottom, including the shoes as well.

Was this some kind of Zumba dance or exercise?

But then, I saw someone, actually someones in this case. There were these guys, they seemed to be in certain uniforms or so.

They had rigid, scrunched-up gloves with no air to flee from the modification. They were wearing helmets, but the tiny plastic that allowed them to see was very tinted. They wore expensive clothing: a gray vest with a tie and a dress shirt tucked inside their pants. The belt aided in the distinction between them.

There were five and five of them each, and I wasn’t sure who was the trainer here, but I was quite ready to figure it out.

Figures out there were no exercising or dancing.

Suddenly, one of the vests guys threw a punch towards one of the agent-looking guys.

In a matter of seconds they all began brawling against each other, throwing punches and thrusting out their legs, as the sound of the collisions between their fists and legs, and the grunts of pain and effort stung my eyes.

Was this a boxing match?

I wanted to leave, but I wanted to see-I felt a certain disagreement in my body, only keeping there for the whole fight.

Suddenly one of the onesie girls leaped and clutched onto one of the vest men, and did some sort of trick, taking one of her legs and flipping on it or something like that-either way, they both ended up landing on the floor.

Except that guy was dead or knocked out, while the girl came out on top.

They began to continue brawling, throwing fists at each other like a boxing match, until one of them(vest guys) dodged a punch and suddenly contained one of the agent men and suddenly slammed him into one of the cars.

The glass broke and shattered and the front trunk of the car almost seemed misshapen.

They must be doing wrestling live or something like that. I’m not exactly sure, but I do have to say, it ain’t a nice match.

But then, something clicked, making me stop cold. Fear rushed up my spine once I saw someone taking out a gun, which the bore seemed to face towards my direction.

Maybe some other guy was coming, and I just happened to be in that location. But then, the gun fired and the bullet punctured the tree I was hiding behind. My breathing completely stopped.

I needed to run, now.

I quickly darted away as shots began to fire behind me, almost hitting me, but luckily the trees provided cover for me.

I couldn’t stop running, I shouldn’t stop running, I wouldn’t stop running, I can’t stop, I won’t stop until I get home.

I looked behind me to see if they were chasing but the other thing that was chasing me were the constant bullets flying at me.

Quickly I found my home, and I went up to the door, banging on it with fist of petrification. Finally, mom opened the door and looked at me. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

I couldn’t find myself to speak, so I just went in and quickly rushed upstairs, still feeling like I was being chased.