Prescription For Life Chap 5

As the days passed, Conrad's condition only began to worsen, especially in school. He, who had tried so hard to be invisible before, was now attracting the attention of other students.

It began with mixing up his class schedule. He would walk into classes he wasn't meant to be in for another hour, attract stares from unfamiliar students. The climax came when he accidentally walked into the girl's restroom.

He'd apologized when he had realized his mistake, but he never really seemed to care. He never bothered to make that extra effort to defend his actions; he always spoke with that deadpan voice.

He was turning into an easy target.

Not long after the bathroom fiasco, Conrad was continuing on his usual route to the bus stop, but he was stopped by a group of teenagers his age. They began to encircle him, like vultures around a dying animal.

"Hey! Hey stupid- aw geez, look at the little retard!"

He stopped and stared, confused. After a moment, the prey tried to step past them; it thought the pack would let it.

But they didn't. Instead, they pushed him back in, closing in, yelling nasty things and shoving at his chest. They were trying frantically to get a rise out of him, but they couldn't; Conrad was still at a loss for what was occurring.

It was so out of routine, so unexpected, that his mind was still trying to process it all and, getting no reaction, the actions of the bullies began to escalate. Conrad soon found himself curled on the pavement, wheezing desperately for breath as the leader of the pack began to kick at his chest, the rest settling for any other contact they could find.

He was hardly aware of their screaming at him, telling him to cry for his mother, to beg, to do anything human. But all he could do was pull deeper and deeper into his own subconscious, away from the world around him, the painful reality.

All that was left was his dull-eyed body, free for the others to use as their personal punching bag.

…

At one point, Luce had given up with the library shit. He considered it completely pointless to stand around and do nothing, and apparently the librarian agreed, as she didn't complain when he checked out early by at least an hour.

He began to head to the bus stop, almost empty backpack slung over one shoulder, to continue his now-usual routine of following a certain freshman home, keeping him safe. It was a bit embarrassing for the senior, and he'd never admit it, but the boy was becoming a nagging bit on the edge of his conscience. It never left him alone.

To his utter dismay, he had begun protective of the boy (just a little!), but only really because he knew that the normal Conrad would never have been like this; the Conrad he knew was a scared little kid, but he was smart and artistic and not a damn- whatever he was now.

Worth gave the weakest of sighs as he continued to the bus stop. The sounds of shouting barely grabbed his attention, yet Luce was always a fan of a fistfight, and he looked up momentarily to spot several boys surrounding a single child, blocked from view behind all the kicking legs.

Two of Worth's moral codes were being broken before his very eyes. Of course that didn't settle well with him at all. But what only made it worse was the fact that the victim wasn't fighting back. Even from here, Luce could tell that they weren't reacting at all. Some pit settled in the teen's stomach as he heard the screams of the offenders, telling the kid to cry for his mother, and then his feet were moving almost not by his control.

He towered over the freshmen quickly, trying to catch sight of the victim. And damn it all to hell, who else could it be than the one kid he was actually hoping it wasn't.

Conrad.

Connie.

The senior shoved the shorter boys away, landing a blow on the leader that was aiming for the victim's stomach. He couldn't even speak, couldn't think up some witty line or retort to these punks, because all he felt was anger, pouring through him like a flood.

Even Luce Worth knew his limits about hurting others. He would never touch a person when they were down, wouldn't even think about it. And more than that, it was Conrad, it was always Conrad. Why couldn't he fight back?

The flood continued to pour through the broken dam, and Luce was hardly aware that he kept punching and punching and punching until the boy was screaming and he finally stopped. Blood streamed from the freshman's nose and lip, Luce noted with grim satisfaction, as the younger teen pulled away.

Luce was aware that he was panting for breath, his eyes were dangerous narrow slits, almost feral. The other brats dragged their dear friend away, and suddenly he was screaming after them:

"Yeah, ya better run ya little cocksuckers! Little fuckers!"

More expletives slipped off his tongue, soothing and familiar, before he finally paused, panting wildly, fists tight. And then, as though he'd nearly forgotten why he was so angry, he turned dully to the small curled up body beneath him.

"Ey, Connie."

He placed a rough hand on the boy's tight shoulder, taking in the hazed eyes, the far away expression. "Can'ya hear me?" Quickly looking back towards the bastards, Worth wondered for a moment how much damage they inflicted. But he shoved that thought aside, looking back down toward his companion. "They ain't gonna bother ya again."

He shook the body weakly, because that's what it was: a body. Almost empty and hollow. It scared him.

The mind was so consumed and drawn away from reality that it didn't realize the blows had finally stopped. Neither the hand nor the shaking shook it back; rather, it was the familiar voice that stirred the conscience and drew it back.

"…Luce…?" his voice was hardly more than a whisper, just a breath.

Worth was…. trying to be comforting…. but why? What was there to comfort? To Conrad, nothing was wrong. His body was hurting, but was that a big deal?

The beaten boy struggled to sit up, giving a loan moan. But the older boy didn't move his hand. "Ey-slow down!" But he didn't. His hand moved out to reach his glasses and, after moving it around carefully, he finally could make out the blurry shape of the frame and picked them up. He slipped them on, hardly noticing that one of the lenses was completely shattered. When he did realize it, all he could think of was that he'd need to ask for new ones.

He could taste penny copper on his tongue, between his teeth, as the world began to slide back into focus as much as it could. He looked directly at Worth, hardly able to pull together an expression of acknowledgement, of recognition.

The teen was still unaware of what had happened, but he had to get home. That's all he knew. He could not be late. Without another word or sound, Conrad pulled himself up to his feet slowly, staggering slightly.

Conrad was acting as though nothing was happening. He didn't seem scared or sad; he didn't even seem like he was in pain. Luce might have expected this from himself, but never from Conrad. The elder teen nearly stared as his companion rose without even speaking.

"Connie?"

He rose with him, his hand falling back down to his side, then quickly rose again as the boy staggered. "Ey, easy." He tried to steady him, a multitude of questions running through his mind.

Did Conrad even recognize him? Did he even know what had happened? That empty glazed look he was receiving, it was so… out of character. Was he even aware of all the bodily injuries he should have just gained? Should the boy even be standing?

Despite the cloudy havoc rolling through his mind, Luce Worth was aware of at least one thing: he had to get Conrad somewhere safe.

"C'mon, kiddie." Taking the boy by the arm carefully, he tried leading him back towards the school.

Luce had no idea that Conrad, his Conrad, was almost completely gone. He couldn't know that he wasn't going to stop being this empty, emotionless thing. He just wanted to keep him safe, and he wasn't sure why, but everything just felt so wrong and he wanted his Conrad back.

He wanted the boy that was terrified of him, that drew horses, that showed too much emotion just because he could. He wanted the kid that punched him but was afraid of it, the little yuppie, the pansy that he embarrassed only in private because when he was in a bad mood, it was playing with this kid that made him happy. And he was the only one that had the right to mess with Conrad because he knew what the kid was going through and he knew where his boundaries were.

This was his property, his right. Conrad was breaking and Luce could never like it.

Conrad pulled away from his companion, redirecting himself to the bus stop. "I have to get home." He said it in that monotone voice again; it was nothing more than a fact. There was no room for debate. Home was the only option at this point.

This was the routine. You follow it no matter what.

Conrad began to limp away, forcing his body forward. Mother would be angry that he was late. Why was this boy talking to him again? After he told him not to?

It was curious, but it wasn't important.

Waiting for the bus was.

It didn't sink in at first that the freshman was pulling away, because it didn't make sense, it wasn't right to have him pulling away.

"Have ta-" Worth was silenced as his eyes followed the limping boy. For what felt like the longest time, he didn't know what to say, to do.

"Connie…"

For a moment, he was tempted to walk beside Conrad, but, for once, he was completely unsure of what to do. He didn't know. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, confusion. He was just at a loss.

Worth was left to stand and watch Conrad leave.