Keep Fighting by Tracci Fisher (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

When she saw me, she froze.

"Alex, what happened?"

"Ah nothing, I just got threatened by some bully, the usual." I laid back on the cot.

"You haven't been on the receiving end for a long time. How did this happen?"

"This kid just got mad at me because he saw me helping out all these bullying victims. He was just warning me to back off, that's all." I said.

She handed me an ice pack for my side. "Well to me it looks like he gave you more than a warning. But you know that I think it's pretty sweet of you to be helping these kids out, and it’s pretty brave of you to put yourself in danger like this."

"It's just like old times."

"That's not a good thing."

I chuckled as I wiped the blood off my elbow and lip. It had been two years since my parents had to pick me up in the nurse's office because of bullying, so they were pretty surprised when the school called them both at work.

I was lying on the cot resting when I heard the sound of squeaky sneakers coming through the door. I slowly sat up and opened my eyes and sure enough, it was my older sister, Rachel, standing in the nurse's office.

"Hi Rachel." I said.

She looked my way. "You look like crap." I could tell that she had been sleeping when school called.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I asked.

She came over and sat down on the cot. She sighed. "Dad is in the office talking to the principal and that other kid's parents, and if I know Mom, she probably just pulled into the parking lot. She sounded pretty worried over the phone so beware."

I laid back down and shut my eyes again. "Great."

"You know," she said, "I was a bit worried too. The last time that something like this happened you were brought to the emergency room."

"There's nothing to worry about. It was just a one-time thing."

"That's what you said last time."

I really wished that she would stop worrying about me and worry about something more important like her school work. I wished that everybody would stop worrying about me. Right now, my mom was probably racing through the halls to get here, my dad was probably yelling at my principal or Jason's parents, and my English teacher was probably writing a note to my counselor. All of this because I stood up for a bunch of kids that are too afraid to. To be honest, I wasn't worried at all about what might happen to me. I didn't care as long as people like Michael were safe to get an education.

I heard the sound of fast high heels heading my way. "Hi, I'm here to pick up my son, Alex." In came my mother in her usual business suit and dress pants.

"He's right over there." The nurse said. She pointed towards the cot.

"Oh my god! Alex what happened?" She ran over to my as quick as any women could in high heels. She kneeled down in front of me and grabbed my face looking at all the bruises.

"I just got hit by some kid, that's all."

"You look like you've been run over by a truck." She looked around the room. "Where's your father?" She asked.

"I saw him in the main office talking to the principal," Rachel said, "he looked furious."

My mom stood up and sighed. "I should go over there and calm him down before the security has to drag him out."

She walked through the door, but she turned around as if forgetting something. "Rachel," Rachel looked at her, "can you take Alex home?" Rachel nodded. "Thanks."

She walked back out into the hallway. The nurse walked over with another ice pack. "You two can leave. Your mom signed you out."

I took the ice and stood up. "Thanks Rose."

She smiled, "No problem Alex."

Rachel and I walked down the hall with our hands in our pockets. "I could go for a nap." I said.

Rachel yawned. "Same here." We laughed.

The security guards were standing in the lobby. They looked at me. "Hope you feel better kid." One of them said.

"Yeah, that beat down looked pretty ugly." The other stated.

"Thanks guys.” I said as we walked through the main door.

Rachel and I said nothing to each other the whole ride home. She was probably thinking to herself the whole time that I was going to get myself killed by doing this again. It wasn't like I wanted to get mugged during lunch. That doesn't mean that I'm going to stop helping these kids just because I know there's a chance that I'll wake up in the hospital again. Rachel was the one that took me to the nurse unconscious after being thrown down the stairs. She worries about me more than she'll admit. I could tell that she was mad at me because I didn't worry about my own well-being as much as I should. It's not as scary the second time around, especially when you have other problems on your mind.

Rachel took the keys out of the ignition and unbuckled her seat belt. I unbuckled mine and opened the door. Rachel came around to help me, but I ushered her aside and stood up cautiously. She grabbed my backpack and threw it over her shoulder before locking the car. I waited for her to unlock the front door and leaned against the railing on the porch. She opened the door and stepped inside. I followed behind her.

The house seemed so quiet and empty; even the air was still. Rachel dropped my backpack by the bottom of the stairs and sat down on the couch. She sighed, "why must you be the good guy? You always ending getting yourself hurt."

I laid down on the sofa next to her. "I just don't like seeing people in pain. It's a curse."

She didn't say anything after that. I stayed there for a bit and stared at the ceiling fan. I could hear Rachel snoring lightly. That's when I decided to head upstairs to my own room. I was feeling pretty sore, so I took a couple Motrin before climbing up the stairs.

My room was an icebox. It felt nice. I laid down on top of my sheets and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of yelling downstairs. It was still light outside. According to my clock, I had been asleep for at least an hour. I stood up and opened my bedroom door. My parents were screaming at each other.

"If he doesn't go to school, he'll fall behind." My dad yelled.

My mom screamed back at him. "But if he does go to school, he'll get hurt. He might get himself killed."

I made my way down the stairs and ran over to where they stood in the kitchen. "You're both wrong," I intruded, "if I stay home, my teachers can just email my assignments. And if I go to school, I won't get hurt because Jason won't be there. It will work out either way, so can you two please stop fighting about it."

They both looked at me. My dad turned to my mom. "He's right."

They both turned to me. "We're sorry we started fighting about something unimportant like that." My mom apologized.

My dad added in, "and we're sorry if we woke you up."

"That's okay. Everybody's just stressed out, that's all." I said.

"Everybody except you." Rachel walked out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel. I didn't say anything back. I just grabbed a can of soup and made myself some dinner.

I decided to stay home the rest of the week so that my mom could go to work without worrying about me getting in a fight again. My teachers emailed my work to me so that I wouldn't fall behind. I spent my days working on assignments and watching reruns on TV.

I was surprised one day when there was a knock on the front door. I opened the door and saw Michael standing on my front porch.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm still a little sore. How about you?"

His split lip was healing up, but he looked tired. "About the same. Everybody at school heard about what happened. There are videos all over the internet. I met some other kids that said that you helped them out too, we all think of you as our savior."

"I'm really just some kid, that's all."

"You're more than that to us. You defended us when no one else would, and we thank you for that."

I didn't think of myself as a hero, but these kids did. I knew I couldn't let them down now. Michael and I talked a little bit more. He told me about how he found out about my past and how when the others found out, they finally knew that I did understand what they were going through. When he finally left, I was left alone to think about my status as a hero. It was new. I had never been more than a loner before. This sudden fame felt kind of weird. I let the thought sink in a bit while I watched more reruns.

 

After sitting on the same couch watching the same reruns for hours, I felt pretty useless. I had no homework to finish, the house was clean, and Rachel was up in her room snoring. The house was too quiet.

I quietly stood up from the couch, knowing that even if she was snoring, Rachel was a very light sleeper, and grabbed a pen and paper. Went outside for some fresh air. I'll be back before eight. I left the note on the coffee table in the living room and grabbed my gray hoodie. I used the back door so that the alarm wouldn't wake Sleeping Beauty upstairs. I put on my shoes outside as a precaution and walked through the backyard to the old gate. I would have jumped over the gate, like usual, but I was still sore. I opened the surprisingly quiet gate and walked through our neighbor's yard. She was sitting in her rocking chair on her back porch. She just smiled and waved at me as a passed through.

Once on the sidewalk, I started walking towards the memorial park down by the middle school. The sky was already an array of colors as the day faded. It was almost seven. My dad was probably starting his car and heading home. My mom on the other hand had already called saying that she was going to work some overtime and wouldn't be home before nine. She didn't like working late, but she knew she had to make up for the work she missed earlier this week.

There was a huge hill right before getting to the park. These little kids were riding down the hill on wagons and skateboards. Their parents and older siblings were watching from their front porches and the bottom of the hill in the case of needed medical attention. I sat on the side of the hill and watched them. One of the girls watching from a porch came up to me.

 

"Aren't you that kid that got beat up earlier this week?" She said.

 

I nodded. She sat down for a minute. She put out her hand and I shook it.

 

"My name is Emily." There was a yellowing bruise on her inner arm. "I'm Alex," I said.

 

"You know, you're kind of famous at school still. We all think that you're kind of a hero." She said smiling.

 

"I heard." I replied. She pushed her hair out of her face with her hand. I looked at the bruise again. She saw me look. "Don't worry, this was just an accident. I tripped up the stairs at home." She said reassuringly. I felt better knowing that. We both sat there watching the kids riding down the hill again. One of the boys rolled down the hill and was giggling all the way down.

 

"You know," she said, "I think you are a hero."

 

I looked at her.