The back of the bus was the worst place to sit, and yet, he found himself working his way there every day. He was slight, and polite and I'd tell you he wore glasses, but you already knew that.
The girls were there, waiting for him, like they were everyday. He saw them and his stomach shrunk in on itself, but he kept walking.
The were predatory. He didn't know why. Wasn't his place to know why. All he knew was that every day, they would take their lives out on him and he would willingly sumbit.
Here he is.
About fucking time.
Nice shirt.
Slap!
Wanna feel my tits.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Scratch.
Let me see your dick.
Drink this.
What is it?
It's our piss.
Pinch and twist.
Look! He's crying.
Ha.
Faggot.
You little faggot.
Who's our faggot?
Scratch his face again. Let's see some blood.
I'm gonna rip his shirt.
Break his glasses!
Yeah!
Please don't break my glasses. They're very expensive.
Punch!
Grab
Smash.

Where are you people now? Where are you people now that I'm bigger than you?

But am I bigger than you? In my mind, I'm still the small child who willingly walked to the back of the bus to get beaten by the girl he loved and her sister.