1 ~ Hayley

                                    

                                          
I walk with a cane, but I am young, so most people think I am not natural. They have mocked me. They have hurt me. All because I am different from them. All because they have small minds, and those with small minds fear that which isn't in their narrow line of vision. 
As if I am a monster, the people my age (and some who are older than I) have treated me horribly. But as I walk down the narrow street, headed for my home, I hear the familiar sound of footsteps behind me. I keep walking, though. 

No choice, I have no choice. I can only hope that I reach my home before they strike. 

Leaves strewn across the uneven cobblestone streets below my feet make it hard to walk. My hips throb, my knees ache. I do my best to ignore the pain, as I am used to it. But despite that fact, I am so tired of it all. Of the pain. The mockery that is my life. The abuse at the hands of these narrow-minded bastards. 

I am just on the edge of my property, looking down at the well that sits on the border of my home. But then, rough hands grab my shoulders. I bite down on my lip, as I am spun around, turning face to face with them. I am used to them. 

Achard West and his cronies stand there. And as soon as I face Achard, he shoves me backward. I trip over my cane and the uneven ground, landing on my butt. Achard laughs and so does his friends. Achard is tall, with a round belly, pale skin, and blond hair that is always slicked back. He wears a green tunic and brown breeches, his boots tucked into them. 

"What're ya lookin' at, bitch?" Achard demands. He moves his leg back, and kicks me in my left leg, just below my aching knee. I hiss, doing my best to not cry out. I do not want to give him the satisfaction of my cries of pain. 

"Think we should teach her a lesson," says one of his friends. He grins down at me, his own visage that of someone insane and drunk. 

Achard grins.  "Oh, yes. Come on, help me pick this crippled bitch up."

I finally manage to grab my cane, and I wait till Achard is leaning down to grab me. I scream and swing my cane as hard as I can, which cracks against the side of his face. Blood splatters his pale face, and he snarls in my face as he sinks to his knees. I look up at the boys who stood behind Achard, and his friends snarl. 

"Get her! Don't just stand there!" Achard yells. 

The guys grab me by my legs and arms, hoisting me up. I thrash in their grip, yelling. But I don't think anyone is home in my neighborhood, or my own house. They drag me over to the well, and I scream and kick, thrashing as much as I can. 
But it is useless. Because then, they throw me down into the dark and cold well. For a moment, I am floating. Then, I hit cold, hard water. The air is torn from my lungs, and I pull myself up to the surface with much effort. I am hurting all over, but thankfully, I am above the surface of the cold water. 

I hear Achard and his friends laughing. They say some more twisted, vile shit. 

But I am not going to just lay here and die. I scream out my rage, and their laughter fades as they walk away. But not before they throw my wooden cane down into the well. I dodge its descent as best I can, and it splashes beside me. I am so glad that the water isn't too deep. I am so glad that I am still somehow alive. 

I do not know how long I sit in the freezing water, shivering and bloody. I cry, and beg for someone to help me, though I know I am never getting out of here. Not alive, at least. 

Just as I am thinking that this might be the end of me, that my family might find me dead here, voices filter through the stone walls of the well. I call out, begging for help.