Jonathan was not about to surrender to his oppressors. However, he was about to run into a brick wall at the end of the ally. Mind racing and muscles scrambling to stop in mid stride, Jonathan could still here the shouts behind him. You know, the normal things; “I’m gonna pound your little face in, you fag!” and “When we’re done with you not even your boyfriend will recognize you.” and occasional the far less imaginative “Stop him!”
Desperately, he looked around, but of course he was cornered, somehow it didn’t even surprise him at this point. With head held high he turned and confronted the pack of wild dogs that chased him. “I don’t want to fight you guys!” He announced, his voice not betraying his fear in the least. Still, they did not pause to spare his feelings as they erupted into laughter. “I’m serious, let’s just all calm down and go on our separate ways, pounding the shit out of me isn’t worth a few of you guys getting hurt, is it?” The answer was quite clear as they ran at him, fists held high, ready to pound upon him. He knew he had no choice but to try and fight his way out, but eight against one were never good odds.
The first guy he recognized off hand as Keagen, a student in his physics class, smart enough kid but terribly rude. Bald head in contrast to Jonathan’s full heard of hair, he was skinny and quick but not strong, and Jonathan was quicker. Keagen jabbed fast and Jonathan ducked under the blow, sucuring a sucker punch to the boys stomach, the boy fell to the side with a grunt, but 3 more were right behind him. Jonathan backed up and dodged the first swing, a wide windmill of a swing that would have done little damage anyways, Jonathan noted. His movement sacrificed his defensive position however, and the boy at his right kicked low, sweeping Jonathan’s feet from under him. On the ground her rolled quickly, avoiding a drop-kick of sorts and kicked into the groin of the boy on his left. Cheap shot, perhaps, but fighting fair was obviously not a concern of theirs, and so it could be no concern of his. He jumped up in time to avoid another low kick but was now faced with six boys, and they had him partially surrounded. Jonathan spared only a quick thought at that contradiction, and quickly elbowed the boy nearest him and threw the heavy-set lad at his fellows, running through the opening he’d created, but the opening had not been large enough, or perhaps he had simply not been fast enough, for he was grabbed from behind and pulled to the ground.
From there he felt little sense in fighting back, he was outnumbered and overpowered and it would be faster to simply lie there and let them pound on him for a few minutes than to attempt fighting back any longer. He lie there for a long time and let his mind wander, closed to all awareness of the boys who punched and kicked and ripped his clothes and spat in his face. Their hatred was a cloak that they lay heavily upon him, covering him, transforming him against his will. He did not want to hate them back. Eventually the last boy was gone, Jonathan did not hear their laughing and joking as they walked away, and he did not notice the looks in their eyes as they spat at the ground around him. The cloak lifted as they left, dissipated and its fragments drifted away.
Still he lied there for a long time, his mind noticing all the little things. Wandering about, wondering why it was that the longer he concentrated on a word, the stranger it sounded to him. He concentrated on the world, the smell and the sound, the sight above him and the cold, wet feeling of the earth below him, and as he concentrated it all became unreal. Something foreign to him, something entirely alien though he knew it completely. He was not of this world, he did not share its pain and its hatred and he did not feel compelled to seek out its comforts any longer. Whatever this world was, Jonathan was no longer a part of it, he floated forever upward until all its sensations were lost to him.
And he remained there. For hours, days, eventually his body was noticed by a stranger. Not by himself, he no longer noticed it, he no longer wanted it. He was free of its tortures now.