Jeff stepped hesitantly into the corridor, clutching his backpack close as he navigated the tides of students. The old linoleum floors were slick from muddy shoes, and the air buzzed with chatter and the clanging of locker doors. Outside, rain hammered the glass, casting shifting shadows that made everything seem colder. He avoided eye contact, his small frame almost swallowed by the throng, and glanced nervously at the clock, knowing he needed to hurry.

Jeff slipped into the restroom, the door creaking shut behind him. The tiles were a pale, lifeless gray, and the harsh fluorescent light made the room seem even more sterile. Relief washed over him as he realized he was alone—no jeers, no stares, just a brief moment of peace. He finished quickly, eager to get back to the relative safety of the crowded halls.

The leader: New character. The largest boy, clad in a black jacket and biker boots, radiates menace. The heavy door banged open, startling Jeff as the leader and his gang flooded in, their boots echoing loudly. Without warning, the leader's fist crashed into Jeff's face, sending him sprawling to the cold, wet floor. A storm of kicks followed—shouts and laughter reverberated off the tile as he tried in vain to shield himself. Pain blossomed in his chest and head, and everything faded to black.

Jeff blinked awake, his vision swimming as faces loomed above him, their voices overlapping in a blur. He felt the stickiness of blood on his arms and the grit of mud on his clothes, but the questions swirling around him barely registered. Moving on autopilot, he staggered to his feet, ignoring the stares and whispers, focused only on the pressing need to get to class. The hall seemed to tilt as he made his way to his locker, hands shaking as he spun the combination, mind blank with shock.

As Jeff pushed into the classroom, a hush fell over the students. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room, and he finally glanced down, noticing the blood smeared on his desk and the torn, filthy state of his clothes. Mrs. Welch: New character. English teacher, mid-40s, stern, with a stack of tests in hand. Mrs. Welch strode down the rows, handing out papers without pause. He looked up at her, expecting concern or at least a word of acknowledgement, but she simply set his test down and moved on. "Would it be ok if I went to the restroom and washed some of this blood and mud off me before I take the test?" "I guess so, but you only have thirty minutes to complete the test so you better hurry," she replied, her tone clipped.

Alone again, Jeff stared at his reflection—two blackened eyes, swollen lips, cuts streaked with grime. The paper towels scratched against his skin as he tried to clean up, but the bruises and aches wouldn’t wash away. As he dried his arms, exhaustion settled deep in his bones, and a wave of anger and sadness threatened to overwhelm him. Steeling himself, he returned to class, head pounding, determined to finish the test despite the pain.

The final bell rang, and Jeff made his way to the main doors, the cold air biting at his injuries. His mother’s car was already there, and as soon as she saw him, she leapt from the driver’s seat and rushed to his side, shock and fear twisting her features. Jeff’s mother: New character. Compassionate, fiercely protective, quick to worry. "Oh my God, Jeff, what happened to you?" "I don’t know who they were, Mom. I just... I want to go home and rest. Please," he whispered, exhaustion and defeat in his voice. She wanted to storm inside and demand justice, but Jeff shook his head—he didn’t want to relive it, not now.

As the car slipped through the rain-slicked streets, Jeff pressed his forehead to the cool glass, feeling each bruise and ache as a reminder. He knew now that Miller High School was a place of hard lessons—some written in textbooks, others carved painfully onto skin and spirit. The world, he realized, taught its harshest rules in the spaces between bell rings and chalk dust. That day, he carried home not just wounds, but a wary wisdom: sometimes, surviving meant simply not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.