perpetual

adjective

1. never ending or changing

2. occurring repeatedly; so frequent as to seem endless and uninterrupted

3. (of a plant) blooming or fruiting several times in one season

I don't know who threw the first punch at Grant but when he went down I was already running at the arseholes who were bullying my first friend. I didn't think, I just ran and tackled the guy closest to him as they threw a few more punches. I caught the side of his face with one of my fists as I jumped up to gain more height, but that might have been a fatal flaw in my whole plan.

Next thing I know I have pain screaming across my boobs and then I'm air born, flying over the railing next to the escalators and Grant's voice is screaming out my name.

"Lillllleeee!"

The floor rushes up quickly and in that slit second I managed to curl myself around so I can do a breaking fall that I learned in martial arts training back 'before'. But I didn't manage to line myself up right mid air and as I hit the floor I feel my right knee pop something horrible and pain tears through my leg, from my hip to my foot.

In that moment, I know I've lost any chance of ever getting a sports scholarship or probably every playing professional sports again. Not that I was ever planning on going pro with any of the four or so sports I play, but it was nice to have the options, you know?

I land hard. And groan. And curl up. My awareness narrows down to just the pain and the echoing background noise of Grant scrabbling free and yelling as he tried to get to me. Next moment he's shaking me awake and I scream.

"Ahhhhh! My knee, my knee!" I start sobbing, coz I can't help it. Then I don't remember where or when I am and start fighting off the hands that have me.

"Don't touch me. Leave me alone." I scramble to get up. If its one thing that I've learned when on the run, was to never let them get a hold of me. I try to get up and run again, but my knee gives out and I quickly pull myself to the space under the escalator, away from grabbing hands and yelling voices. I can only sob, the pain so sore. I hit back at hands that are trying to pull me free, screaming at them to leave me alone.

"Don't touch me, don't touch me," I sob as my brain is trying to sort out my where and when, and I'm slowing remember that I've died already and been reborn.

"She's not hearing me, she won't listen. I don't know what to do, Mr Wallace." I hear Grant's voice on the phone to his boss, my new step dad. "Yes, I called an ambulance, but something's wrong with her. She is freaked out so badly, I don't even think she knows where she is. Its like she has PTSD or something." Just as Grant is speaking again another face from my past comes into view and I scream.

"Aaahhhh! Don't touch me!"

"Hey, stay back, give her some space." Grant yells at Liam Ferguson who has come running over.

"I saw what happened. We need to get her out from there and to a hospital."

"You think I don't know that? Something has her spooked, just give her some space. An ambulance is on its way. Stay back." I hiccup another sob and begin to understand that Grant's trying to help, he's safe. He wont hurt me.

"Grant, Graaant," I call out to him.

"She's acting like an abuse victim," Liam says.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Liam. Get away from her." More noise of fighting then Grant's face pops into view.

"OK, baby girl, its OK." His voice is tender and calming and I look up to find worry and concern all over his face. "You with me, Lily?"

I nod my head, still curled up around my sore knee. After hiccuping again a few times, I lean towards him and give him my hand.

"I hurt my knee." I whisper. "I hurt my knee, Grant. It went pop." I start sobbing again as he gently pulls me into her arms and I bury my face in his neck. Noise echoes around me as I whimper, my leg bouncing with every step Grant takes, causing the pain in my knee to level up.

"The paramedics are here, Lily. They'll take you to the hospital and get your knee sorted, OK?"

"No, don't leave me. Grant," I hold onto him tighter, still so confused about everything.

"Miss, can you relax, lay down on the stretcher?" I just hold on tight, shaking my head while I continue to hiccup. "Sir, can I get you to sit with her please. Keep holding her while we check out her injuries."

"Yes, I can do that."

"You look pretty banged up yourself. Get into a fight?"

"No, they bulled him and punched him without any provocation. Fucking bastards." I pull away from Grant and look around for the dick heads who started this whole thing. That was enough to jolt everything mentally back into place. I'd been killed but reborn. My mum just married Wallace and I was out shopping for school clothes.

"Sorry Grant. Thank you for helping me." I pull away to stand up but he stands up instead, lifting me and placing me on the stretcher.

"You good now, here with us?" He's smiling, but I can see the worry in his eyes. And a black eye, bruised jaw.

"Flippin' bastards. Did you get any of them back before they threw me over the railing?"

"Nope, but you did. Socked Jason Matheson right in the eye." I remember that, and the slam to my boobs before I went flying. I rub them carefully realising they are really sore as well.

"Stupid idiot. At least if he's going to cop a feel he could have used gentle hands."

"Pftt..." Grant starts laughing and I hear someone behind him clearing his throat. I look around the paramedic to find Liam Ferguson holding his mouth, hiding a smile.

"What the hell do you want? You after another round?" I about get off the stretcher when Grant and the paramedic hold me down and the jostle send tears to my eyes again. "Ouch!"

"Don't worry, Miss. I wasn't there when the guys started the fight. I'm here to apologise for their actions, Miss."

"Apologise my arse. They started the whole thing and threw me overboard. I fell two stories, fuck my knee. You can shove your apology up your arse and tell those flippin' idiots that I'll see them in court. Let's go."

"Miss, please, they'll lose their spots on the team if this goes any further... Their sporting careers..." I cut him off and manage to get off the stretcher while the Grant wasn't touching me. I quickly hop up to Liam and get right into his face.

"Their careers? What about my fucking career? Mine doesn't matter, is it because I have boobs and not a fucking dick? I'm the regional long distance under 15 championship, volleyball, soccer, first place last year in badminton? The fuck they're more important than me." Tears fall again and I quickly wipe my face and school it to an indifferent look. "You can fucking stuff their 'sporting careers' up their arses and wait for my step dad to call them and their parent's to ask for an account for their actions. Have a nice day, Mr Ferguson." I watch the surprise skitter across his face, then anger when he doesn't get what he wants. Then something like interest flashes past.

Grant helps me back to the stretcher as my step dad strolls into the mall, his assistant and driver following behind. Mum is nowhere to be seen. When he sees me he runs over to me and picks me up and I'm sobbing all over again.

"Quickly take statements, get names and numbers of everyone involved, CCTV footage, and you know what else to do." He turns me away from the crowd and carries me back the way we've just come.

"Move, make way." He yells.

"Mr Overmeyer, that was Mr Overmeyer." I hear people around us mumbling and I want to smirk at Liam as his face pales at the sight. He looks up to see me looking over my step dad's shoulder and flip him the bird.

"Arse hole." I mouth to him and turn away from his stupid face.