Something I'm proud of (incomplete)

Disclaimer: This is the first story I�ve done in a long time. I�m not sure what the content will be fully until I write it, and even then I�m not sure if I can fully express what I think. It may take some time to scale this writer�s wall (I wish it were a block), but hopefully I will. I�d also appreciate it if nobody takes this story without acknowledging me in any sort of way. I�d write something that involves killing you with ketchup and hamsters, but it ruins the mood, ya know? I just wish that I could do something and be proud of it.
Again, I reiterate, this story may suck.

***NOTE: THIS STORY INVOLVES ***

And thus, it begins�

Christians say that God makes all unique in there own way, and this is why I�m not a Christian. I used to believe that my body was good in it�s original design, but that didn�t stop from looking at my thin fleshy body and sighing, nor did it stop the bullying and nonexceptance wherever I went in school and during my first few jobs. I didn�t really start to count my blessings until I had something to be proud of, and I didn�t obtain that until my high school years.

The school I that went too, Alphonse Diffey high school, was set somewhere in the Eastern coast of the United States, near the beaches of Virginia to be honest. The school was not near the beach itself, yet the residents were much closer (within view of the resorts and condos). I, myself, lived in an apartment building that gave me view of the ocean that humbled me on rainy days. AD itself was maybe about a good ways away from my resident alone, I never really knew nor cared, it�s hard getting the exact distance of a place on foot.

At this point of my life I would have to say that I was one depressed individual, playing the part that I looked like. Because of my heritage I looked dark when thin, and since I was part jackal and part coyote I was mostly always looked thin. I had no reason to blame my parents for their love, they didn�t know I would turn out like this, and I respected them too much give such selfish hatred. I obtained my drifty, shaggy-style fur from my mother, and my sullen, solid frame from my father. I had always looked the same from a young age, so there wasn�t much of a change as I grew. I explain my current position then on life because, like I said before, I gained something to be proud of one day.

That day, for me, started off routine for me in my depressed shell of reality. Woke up, showered, ate a piece of crap for breakfast, and clothed myself in dark thick linens for the journey to school. Couldn�t afford a car, busses don�t exist here, and parents lived in Wyoming, so don�t ask. On my way to school I thought the same pessimistic thoughts that plagued me, picking out how Scarecrow-like I was, or how single I had been, or how much crying meant pain for me.

When I had arrived at school, I entered my consciousness and tried to make myself invisible to what people saw. As I walked by, I still hadn�t gotten used to head turning to smile as rude comment follows me in my footsteps. Scarecrow, Goth Egyptian, half breed�It built tension, tension that I wish wasn�t released in the way that I did it, and the more I walked, the more I stayed silent, and the I felt alone.

I never really spoke to anyone, unless I am called on by an authority figure such as a teacher or security guard, and even then that was once in a blue moon. It surprised me that day when I was day dreaming of my own problems when I was asked to introduce myself to the new student that made I judged as a stupid jock at first sight.

�Darwenn, why don�t you introduce yourself to mister Hollow here?� the purple-clad dressed cheetah said to me. I looked up and took in the wide arms and heavy build of the red-maned lion to take a guess that he�d be nothing but a stereotypical jock, but I had to take a second glance to notice the soft look in hazel eyes, one hat I knew as gentleness. I knew this from remembering my own mother�s eyes and her love for me.

�He doesn�t hear you Miss Terri�, one of the other classmates said. I couldn�t tell who because of all the eyes of the others were on me, �He�s got sand stuck in his ear� Most of the class gave a hushed laughter, waiting for me to respond in some way. My mouth was partly open, and no sound came out. There was no need to say anything.

The new lion was seated next to me, the teacher�s obvious attempt to make me, or him at least, feel comfy. I�ll give him one thing though. Watching him look around the class caused the time to go by quicker, and the period flew by.

I haven�t said this before, but the last time I ran into a jock I tried to defend myself. Ending up on a hospital stretcher to the infirmary. I had made it my own personal duty to never get caught like that again, yet today just wasn�t my day. Memories of pain are hard to forget, and memories of pleasure are even harder, as the saying goes.

On my way to the next I had taken a stop by the library as an excuses to get to the next class late (the less I was with others, the less pain I�ll feel was my logic then), and pretended to check out a book that I pretended to be interested in, and waited for the time to pass was right. No sooner had I had my next class in sight had the gears of fate twisted onto my tail.

I was wheeled around and pushed against the wall, facing some of largest people I had ever met. The team mascot, a bull, was present, as well as a couple of predators given nicknames. The one person in who had held me was the same jock that had beaten me up before, and I was too afraid to do anything about it.

He was full blood tiger, orange and proud to be it. He didn�t get penalized for being late with no purpose because he held a major positions in a lot of school sports teams, and he as large as he was mean, which is enough to lift me off the ground three feet easy. His name was hammer, because his fists, as well as his body, was like a living hammer, and that�s what he did to people he didn�t like. He didn�t say a word the whole time, and I wonder, now, why he had his little band of thieves with him, as he beat me into bloody submission, After what seemed like hours of torture leaving me on the ground with blood & spit stained clothing, leaving me blinded with in one eye.

I didn�t regain my posture until I little while later when I saw the lion from earlier. My brain wasn�t working correctly and after seeing him I lost most rational thought and ran for all that I was worth. I wanted to be away from him, the jocks, the Hammer, the school itself, and I didn�t stop until I hit the beach. It wasn�t long before I collapsed in the sand passed out from my wounds and exhaustion.

I awoke to waves caressing body, as if the ocean itself where trying to wake me up. My body felt sore and sooty from the sand and salt blending into my wounds. I looked at the darkened sky and heaved a big sigh, wishing I had chosen a better way of choice then running away. I didn�t fight the hammer before, I didn�t fight him that time, and at least one of his lackeys would feel confident they flattened me too.

I wandered off the beach into the streets, trying to avoid as much contact from others as possible. I was still blind in one eye, and trying to figure out where I was. When I gave up on trying to figure out my location I spotted him again and my hate filled my senses.

The lion, the very same red-mane heavyset lion, was walking down the street, heading for the beach, alone. I didn�t care what look was on his face, but when I saw him the images of the Hammer filled my mind and before I knew I was dashing at him with my paws raised into fists. The sad thing is I didn�t try to stop myself, and new I was going to get injured even more for this, so, in my mind, I braced myself for more torment, more mounted tension, more pain.

The lion spotted me his eyes went wide with surprise then softened back into that gentleness that hindered me only a little, but enough for me to stop. My fist went across his cheek and I fell into him. He didn�t budge, or show any signs of pain. He only looked down at me with those eyes and pulled me off of him by my tail and held me with one of his muscled arms before I could fall backwards completely.

After all that had happened to me today, after all that I had experienced within this whole timeline, I thought I was dreaming. My mind couldn�t comprehend the fact that he was trying to help me instead of harm me, and I was just left there staring at him. It was here that I noticed that he was considerably taller than me and his muscle made imprints of themselves on his clothes, much more of than the Hammer seemed to have. At this point I wasn�t sure whether to cry or kiss him because being in that position made me feel safer than I had felt a while ago.

(I�ll try to complete this some other time�when I have the heart.)