The sound of yelling and talking greeted Wesley’s ears as he shuffled out of the Library for his lunch time. He was worried. The library might have been the only place where he could be away from the war. He would sit at Morning Tea time and Lunch, and play with the chess set against himself. It was his happy place. Today however, the library was closing, and he would have to go out and face the enemy. Staring out at the crowded field, the trees surrounding the outside, and football and rugby goals dotted around, Wesley felt his stomach drop.
For all of his 13 years, Wesley had lived with Tourettes Syndrome. Although the outward symptoms were very negligible, it seemed that everyone at Wesley’s school was out to get him for it.
“Oi! Sir Blinkalot! Decided to come out and see the sun for once?”
Wesley kept his head down. He didn’t bother seeing who it was. It didn’t matter. He had no one to talk to, nowhere to go, no one to stick up for him. He was nobody.
Wesley kept his head down, and walked away. It was all he could do. The onslaught of words directed at what he couldn’t help continued. He tried as hard as he could to be normal as he passed them. (What was it like to be normal?) He wanted to go home. He knew leaving the Library would be like a lamb going to the slaughter, but nothing could be helped.
Wesley zoned out of the stream of spiteful slurs directed his way, but suddenly, the voices seemed to stop. He looked up. Unfamiliar faces stared at Wesley looking confused; not looking at Wesley, looking past his shoulder. Wesley spun around and almost fell to the ground. What he saw and heard gave him the shock of his life.
One of the girls from his class was standing with her hands on her hips, and yelling at the crowd of bullies.
“What are you doing Lucy?” Came a voice from the crowd.
“You heard me, can’t you just lay off him for one moment of your life?”
Wesley couldn’t believe it was happening. She was sticking up for him. The whole group was silent.
“Yeah, guys, come on, what did he do to you?” Came another voice from the field. A usually quiet boy who looked a few years younger than Wesley came out and stood by Charlotte.
“Well, it’s more the fact that he exists than what he has actually done to us!” A few laughs followed this remark, but far less than usual. Wesley faced the crowd head on, and he saw some disapproving faces, and shakes of the head. He felt enlightened.
The group dispersed and Lucy came over to Wesley.
“Th-th-thanks” Wesley muttered.
“Come on Wesley, you aren’t by yourself, people are just too scared to admit they only bully you so that they can feel powerful. Now, do you want to come and play football?”
After school, Wesley walked home. It was easier than taking the bus. All the shoulder jerking and excessive blinking from everyone else. He kept his head down like usual. He heard approaching footsteps, and braced himself. This happened most days. Someone on a dare or just coming up to him for all the stupid shoulder shrugs.
“Mr Blink A Lot!” Came the voice, “How you doing buddy?”
“Don’t call me that!” The words were out of Wesley’s mouth before he could think about it. What was he doing? He couldn’t be beaten up again.
“Getting a bit feisty there, what you gonna do? Twitch your stupid face till I go away?”
“You can go away right now, if you haven't got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
Wesley ran off back home, his old football skill and pace came in handy when running. It felt good to have someone stick up for him, and do it himself on the same day. It was the first step. Tomorrow, he would hang out with Lucy and her friends, then he would play some chess with his Dad, who was coming home for the first time in months. Wesley was truly happy for the first time in what felt like forever. The world was not out to get him.