I was always asking myself, “Is there something wrong with me?”

  Am I different from the others? I don’t truly know myself about it. I can feel pain, I can feel anger, I can get frustrated, scared, even feel happy. All of the emotions any person, or even human being can be perceived.

  Yet. Why? The question remains in me, as the people around look at me with such wonder, disdain, and uncomfortable gaze.

  “Hey, you’re still there?” a familiar voice cracked my thoughts. I feel my hair pulled up, as a menacing glare from a man looks at me with a vile smirk on his face. Around him are three other men, with bulky bodies.

  My body twitches; muscles aching and my stomach is churning out of writhing pain. “What now, still acting nonchalant, huh? Can’t get any reaction from you?”

  His vile smirk widens, eyes filled with uncanny gaze. Cracking his knuckles, straightened his hand and gives me a loud slap. My face feels the excruciating pain landed; my vision instantly blackened.

  “Hey, groaned for us, will you?” he retorted with a playful laugh. “You haven’t changed your expression since. Come on. Cry, shout, scream! Just give us something to entertain!”

  My arms strained from the uniform bundles on my back. Breathing’s ragged and sweat drips down on me. I feel like crying, yet can’t make it. There aren’t tears gushed through my eyes.

  I feel like screaming, but my mouth remains shut. All I do is giving soft, painful grunt and groan to the pain.

  “Come on, Gabe… you’re still acting nonchalant?”

  Hearing his voice gives me detestation. “I think your slaps haven’t good enough, Mike.” one from the boys replied, cackling out.

  “I think so, too.”he rebutted and loose his hand on my hair. Stepping aside, he gets a stick of cigarette and put it in his mouth. He lights it up with a lighter and puff a smoke.

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  “I’ve been meaning to think about? Every time I hit you, you never retaliate? Is it your pain receptors are dead? Or are you a Masochist?”

  His eyes meet mine. Lips of his formed a grin and puff another from his cigarette, the smoke left off of my face. “Now, I would like to think…. if you stayed as nonchalant, I will stop hitting you.”

  Holding the cigarette on his hand, he nods to the two boys and stripped me up. My body exposed as he puffed another one from the cigarette and pressed the charred part on my chest.

  My body twitches; the pain soothing within me. I groaned as they cackle playfully, enjoying my writhed pain.

  “Come on! Don’t give me that nonchalance of yours~!” Mike cackle while still pressing the cigarette onto my chest. But my expression remains unfazed. None from my looks turn to what they expected.

  Mike’s face fill with amusement turn to disdain. “Fuck!” he cussed and kicks me to my stomach. I wheeze and groaned from the impact of his kick, twitching out from the extreme pain.

  “Why~!? Why can’t I see any reaction to you!? Are you a doll?! Huh!!?” He keep kicking me several times. I can’t get off from it since my hands are strained.

  “Damn it! There’s no sense of hurting you, you piece of shit!”

  Mike groaned out of frustration. His friends, however, just looked down on my pity state, while I remained stoic.

  Now, the question to myself. “Is there something wrong with me?” I think there’s none. I do feel pain, anger, frustration, happiness, loneliness, despair, and other types of feelings and emotions normal people do.

  Yet, why do I stay calm and nonchalant from all of it? I don’t know. Since the time I was born, I never show any signs of emotion at all.

  It’s as if like, my muscles on my face are stiff enough to make something whenever I feel pain, happy, sad, despair or any other emotions. I never tried to smile my whole life.

  It feels like I’m totally different from others. Am I that special? Or is it something I can’t just fully understand.

  At this point, I got fall into Mike’s mercy; tormenting me to see if there’s something change when he hits me.

  And like any other days, it remains the same. I don’t show any anger or hatred, even the looks of pain that he tries to sees to me. The outcome always goes the same. “Let’s go. I’ve just lost my appetite beating that shit.”

  They left me, still lying down on the ground. The pain still lingers, as I tried to get up and sit. Letting out a sigh, I look at the surroundings. It’s the same area where he always beat me.

  In the corner of the school backyard, where no one comes. It’s a secluded place to go and beat me up. Since the knot on my uniform got loose a bit, I tried to untie myself.

  My uniform’s a bit sullied by dirt, and I’m beaten to a pulp much now. But I still need to attend class. Wearing back my polo, I stand up and brush off the dust on my pants.

  This is my day starts, and how my day ends. The good thing is the class ended just awhile ago. And from the corner of the building is my sullied bag filled with dirt and their soles.

  I let out a sigh and picks it up. “I hope tomorrow change something….” I utter to myself and carries the bag. Wishing tomorrow brings a new chapter of my life.