H was a big guy, fat maybe. Some people called him that even
to his face, but that didn’t trouble him, what made him unable to sleep at
night were the voices that jeered him for being scared. And tonight, he
couldn’t sleep.
He understood; a big
guy shouldn’t cry, a big guy should know how to stand up for himself and a big
guy should be able to climb up to the top of that wall even if he was fat.
Peter Paul had and he’ a skinny prick, why can’t i? He lay
there in the dormitory whilst everyone slept and however he tried to block it
out the same thought kept breaking in. It had been like this for over a month
now; he had to do something.
It’s not easy to
look back and say precisely when a decision is finally made; the doubts and
hesitations, false hopes and new dawns all contribute and lead to the moment that
can not exist without them. But as the night broke and the first light of day
edged carefully through the window H made his and left the bed. He tip toed to
the wardrobe, observant not to make any sound and eased the door open. Of
course, he chose his uniform – if he was going to do this he was going to do it
with style. He struggled into the trousers…..
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