Twenty

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"Come out and face me like a man," he sneered, belt in hand. He slammed the door to the bedroom open, and the little boy whimpered in fear from the closet.

He ripped open the closet door, revealing the crying little boy, holding his hands on his head.

He grabbed him by the hair, dragging him out into the floor of the room.

He pulled back the belt, tightening it.

My eyes shot open. The ducks flew off of the pond in front of me, and I looked around. It was still light out, and there were kids running around the park. I checked my phone, and it was 3pm.

I looked through the texts, sniffing and tearing up again, trying to distract myself from the dream.

Karl: hey, George? What happened, everyone's freaking out?

Karl: are you okay?

There were more, but he switched to Bad's conversation.

Bad: George, are you safe? Where did you go? Do you want me to come pick you up?

Bad: I'm worrying now, what's going on

I jumped as I felt a hand on my shoulder, and whirled around. It was someone I didn't recognize, a tall guy with brown hair and a mustard yellow pullover.

"Are you okay?" He asked, in a soothing British accent. "I'm here with my little brothers, and one noticed you sitting here for a while."

I glanced over at the brothers, two small boys wresting over a soccer ball. One was taller and had fluffy blonde hair, and the other was brunette with a green shirt on.

"Tommy! It's my turn, you're s-"

"Oh, you prick. I told you..."

I turned back to the tall guy, who was sitting down next to me, after noticing my red eyes and nose.

"I'm Wilbur, I go to high school on the west side. What's your name?"

"George," I muttered, sniffing. "I'm fine, thanks. Just a little stressed."

"Are you avoiding someone?" He asked, chuckling a little. "At least, that's the only reason I can think of for sitting on a bench at a park all day."

"Sort of, yeah," I agreed. "I'm kind of running away from my problems, unfortunately."

"Well that's fine, as long as you don't leave them behind forever," Wilbur commented. "Otherwise, they'll never let you go."

I was quiet, digesting his words. I guess he was right. I still regretted leaving my old friends without an explanation, and I shouldn't let that happen again.

"Well, I hope you find your way," he sighed, standing up. "I think Tommy's gonna rip out his brother's hair soon, so I gotta go."

He left, and I stared at the ducks some more. I looked at my phone, and decided I'd been gone long enough.

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