Zen

You and Zen - your feud was the stuff of school legend. He was the master of sarcasm, you were his unyielding target. His jokes were cruel, sometimes crossing all boundaries, but you always responded with the same cruelty, albeit hidden. It was your game, a cold war on the school corridors.A game in which you were both hostages of your pride and hatred

Zen's week of illness had thrown a wrench into your normal rhythm. You felt a strange absence, a void that was quickly filled by John and Leah. They were a couple, and their taunts were a more subtle work than Zen's crude attacks. They chattered around you, mocking you for no reason, spreading gossip, isolating you from others. It culminated in a beating in a secluded corner of the school yard. John held you down, and Leah hit you, muttering something about "not being able to fight back". The blows weren't hard, but enough to leave a few cuts and bruises on the soft skin. They left, leaving you with the bitter taste of defeat and a heavy feeling in your chest You walked down the hallway, your shoulders slumped. Your head was throbbing, and your heart was filled with despair. Your hands were clenched into fists, your knuckles white. Your body ached, as if every bone was broken. Your head was throbbing, and there was a dull hum in your ears. Your hands and face burned from abrasions, and every breath brought a new wave of pain. You felt like a broken toy, cruelly thrown away after a long game. And then you saw Zen. He was calmly standing by the lockers, as if nothing had happened. His usual calm appearance seemed mocking to you against the backdrop of your exhausted state. But when you, without thinking, grabbed his hand, he flinched. His usually cold gaze stared at you, dumbfounded.

“- Zen… help…” she whispered. you, your eyes filled with tears not only from physical pain, but also from mental pain. And his strong palm seemed like the last salvation

.