"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing,"

~Albert Einstein

Michael likes lists and he has a lot of them. One of his longest ones is of the reasons he hates school. His reasons aren't like others peoples. Most of his reasons are names. There's the boy named Ryan who bullies him. And the girl named Kate who offers verbal abuse. And there's Ryan's 'minions' who do whatever he says which mostly includes beating Michael in the locker room. Or like today in the bathroom.

The one named Josh holds Michael down as the one named Kyle throws punches. They're sloppy and weak in comparison to Michael's dad's, but that doesn't mean they don't hurt him just as much.

Michael's head is spinning and his ribs feel like they've been soaked in gasoline and lit on fire. His vision is blurry and by the time the two boys leave Michael is fighting to keep his eyes open. He has to go to class in ten minutes though, so Michael grips the sink counter and uses the tiny bit of strength he has to pull himself to his feet.

He looks tired when he catches sight of himself in the mirror. And there's a cut on his forehead from Kyle's fist. Michael wipes the blood away slowly and holds his breath for a second hoping the blood will have clotted by now.

He looks like sh*t, but Michael heads for History, swaying slightly and extremely dizzy. He would care if he had any self-worth, but he just stumbles into class and takes his seat in the middle of the class, hissing in pain.

He wants to hide when Luke walks in, but he can't and Luke smiles at him. Michael pretends he didn't see, but he watches the hurt flicker across Luke's face and finally the concern when he gets close enough to actually see Michaels face.

Luke drops his pencil by Michaels desk and stoops low to reach it whispering as he does so.

"Are you okay?"

Tears well in Michaels eyes because he can't remember when someone last asked him that and oh God he is not okay, but Michael blinks back the tears and nods slightly.

Luke's clearly not convinced, but there's nothing he can do. Michael isn't exactly a people person. Luke shoots him a sad look and Michael wants to cry so badly, but he hasn't cried in four years since he told his dad he was gay and he's sure as hell not going to cry for some dumb blonde kid.

Luke sits next to his friends and the two of them are quick to tell him all about their weekend. Michael keeps his head low to his desk, but out of the corner of his eye he can see Luke glancing at him every few seconds and he's not sure how to feel about it.

Michael survives the class. Up until the teacher makes his surprize announcement. "We are going to be starting a group assignment tomorrow and I want you all to be in groups of four," the teachers eyes landed on Michael. "This will not be done individually,"

Michael's heart sunk to the floor.

"We need another person," Luke's curly haired friend muttered just loud enough for Michael to hear.

Please. Michael begged. Please don't make me work with them. Michael wasn't sure who he was begging to, but clearly they weren't listening.

"Michael can join us," Luke said.

"Who?"

"Michael!" Luke called.

Michaels blood chilled to ice and his spine grew ridged. He hated group projects. He hated people and people hated him. The last time he was in a group he did all the work as the others verbally abused him. Michael doubted this would be any different.

"Him? He's Michael? Oh you've got to be joking," the dark haired boy muttered.

"What's wrong with him?" Luke asked innocently.

They didn't know Michael could hear them. Would they still say these things if they did?

"Luke, you've heard what everybody says about him right?" the curly boy asked.

Michael could only assume Luke was shaking his head.

"He's mute Luke. And he's and underground street fighter. Plus he's gay," The dark haired boy said.

Luke laughed. He laughed.

"He's not mute; he told me his name this morning. And have you actually met him? I don't think he'd hurt a fly, Calum. Never mind another human," Luke denied.

"Even if you're right, Luke, the kids gay,"

"What's that matter?" Luke asked.

Oh, Luke. Michael thought. It matters so very much.

"Well I mean we're all straight so he might, I dunno, try to like make us gay or something,"

"Make us gay? Are you f*cking kidding me Calum? It's not a choice!" Luke lashed out at him.

"Sorry geez," Calum muttered.

Luke groaned. "Michael! Come join us!" Luke was pretty loud that time and Michael could hear a few others asking who Michael was. He couldn't ignore Luke this time.

F*ck. Michael thought as he grabbed his bag and dragged it with him as he walked over to Luke, Calum and the curly haired boy. F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.

Michael sat himself in an empty chair by the three other boys and let his bag slump to the ground. Michael kept his head down and drew his legs in so he was sitting cross legged on the little blue chair.

"Hey, Mikey," Luke greeted.

Michael made no move to show that he heard Luke and remained still trying to feel numb because numb was better than the anxiety that was eating at him.

Words, Michael. He told himself.

Anthropophobia fear of people or society. Michael thought.

He himself was scared of both. They had both treated him cruelly his entire life and he had no reason to believe that things would change anytime soon.

"Okay...so we have our group," the curly haired boy said trying to ease the awkwardness. "Um, I'm Ashton, that's Calum, and uh you already know, Luke so yeah. Tell us about yourself, Michael,"

Michael wanted to laugh at Ashton's awkward introduction and his idea of Michael actually talking about himself. But, Michael hated laughing; he hadn't done it in so long.

Is there a word for that? He wondered. A hatred of laughter? He decided to look it up later.

The boys were still waiting for the boy in black and white to speak, but they quickly understood that he probably wouldn't.

"Nothing to say," Michael whispered in a voice so low that they had to strain to hear it.

Calum nodded and shot a look at Luke. If this boy didn't start talking there would be a minor problem.

Soon enough the three friends began talking about random things, but Luke seemed rather uninterested as if there were something else on his mind. Michael just didn't talk to them at all.

He made his escape the second the bell rang and found himself suffering through maths before he could hide away for lunch.

Michael was surprisingly shocked that the lunch bell rang and he was unscathed. He was suspicious as he headed to English, but he didn't think anyone would do anything with this many people around.

He made it metres away from the door to English when a pair of hands grabbed him. His eyes widened a fraction in terror and he took in Ryan's features.

"Hey fag, how're you doing?" he sneered.

Michael didn't even think to respond as the hands shoved him roughly against the lockers pulling him up slightly so his toes were hovering above the ground.

"I heard Josh and Kyle saw you this morning and I wanna say sorry," Ryan leaned a little closer and Michael turned his face away squeezing his eyes shut hoping that if he couldn't see it that it would just go away. "Sorry that they didn't do it right,"

And Ryan's fist was buried in Michael's stomach. Michael groaned and Ryan dropped him to the floor like a piece of trash. Michael couldn't breathe, his chest was heaving and his lungs were filling and emptying with air, but the oxygen evaded him. He felt like he was breathing through a straw.

"You're worthless, Michael. Your mummy and daddy can tell you how much they love you and how perfect you are, but the truth is you're just a stupid, useless piece of sh*t. You're a waste, Michael. You don't even deserve to be alive," Ryan muttered in Michael's ear.

He stood and gave Michael a sharp kick.

"See you later faggot," he called as he ran into the class as people began to come from the other end of the hall.

Michael's eyes were still closed and his brain took in Ryan's words, declaring each one an understatement.

"Mikey?"

Michael peeled his eyes open and met Luke's horrified blue ones and Michael knew with a sick feeling that Luke had witnessed the entire thing. And as if Michael didn't feel bad enough he realized that Luke never tried to help him.

"Mikey are you okay?" Luke squeaked.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut again as pain hit him. Not from his injuries, but because Luke was right there the whole f*ucking time and he didn't do anything. He was ten feet away and he just watched.

Luke wasn't as bad as Ryan or Kyle. In Michael's mind, Luke just became ten times worse.

"You watched," Michael stated opening his eyes to look at Luke.

Luke was stunned by Michael's eyes. They captivated him and he was caught off guard because Michael had never actually met his eyes before.

"Why'd you watch?" Michael asked.

The boy in black and white wanted answers. He wanted to know why the blonde would stick up for him when it came to his friends, but not Ryan. Michael didn't see a difference.

"Mikey I didn't know what to do," Luke whimpered.

"Anything would have been better than watching, Luke," Michael told the blonde harshly.

Michael spun on his heel and walked into the English class feeling his eyes fill will tears for the third time that day all because of some stupid, tall, blonde.

What was wrong with, Michael?

He sat at his desk and dropped his head staring at the lines on his wooden desk. He tried desperately to ignore the stare of Ryan from behind him.

Luke didn't come in for a few minutes and when he did it was clear the boy was in distress. His eyes were rimmed with a light pink showing Michael that he had made him cry, and for a minute Michael couldn't breathe, because he made someone cry and he swore he'd never do that to another person when people had done it to him so many times.

He wanted to apologise. Every inch of Michael was screaming for him to apologise. But it was better this way. Better that Luke hated Michael because then Michael couldn't hurt Luke and Luke couldn't hurt Michael.

Michael's brain thought it made sense, but every part of him was fighting to make it all better. Michael had long since learned that listening to his brain kept him from getting hurt.

His heart on the other hand always ended up broken.

English proved to be torture for Michael. On a typical day it was by far his favourite class, but with Ryan's hatred burning into him from behind and Luke's huddled form just metres in front of him Michael found himself wanting to scream.

Of course Michael didn't scream, he had other methods of coping and subconsciously Michael tugged his sleeves down a little further playing with his sweater paws knowing what he would be succumbed to doing to himself later.

Every once in a while Luke gave a shudder that Michael full well knew came from repressing a sob and the tears that came with it and it chipped away at Michael's wall unnoticed by the boy in black and white. He didn't realize that the blonde was slowly beginning to penetrate his thick walls, didn't realize that Luke was making a bee line straight for his heart.

Michael waited for Luke and Ryan to leave before he even dared to move and when they were gone he finally made his way to his next class ignoring the insults sent his way as he walked.

Michael didn't see the foot until he had tripped over it and hit the ground hard. He took a breath and pushed himself up so he could continue.

"Hey!" a voice called out.

Michael's eyes widened as he saw Luke heading over to the guy that tripped him.

"What the hell! Who do you think you are?" Luke asked getting up in the guy's face.

Luke was taller and definitely in better shape and Luke seemed to realize this at the same time as the guy. As Luke took a step closer the guy took a step back.

"Answer me," Luke demanded.

"I-I, he's a fag!" the boy stuttered exasperated.

"And you're a f*cking piece of sh*t ash*le if you think it's okay to walk around treating people like that because of who they are," Luke's voice was calm, but Michael heard the poison that leaked from it. "If you pull something like this again you'll have a lot more than failing school to worry about,"

The boy looked like he wanted to respond, but the look in Luke's eye made him nod his head and Luke left him alone content.

"You okay, Mikey?" the blonde asked Michael.

Michael nodded his head and got up brushing off his jeans. For the fourth time that day Michael wanted to cry, only this time because he was glad.

"Thanks," Michael muttered.

Luke grinned at the boy in black and white. "We're okay now, right?" Luke's voice was filled with hope and Michael didn't want to crush that, but he didn't want to hurt Luke even more further down the road so he nodded. Only meaning it half as much as he should.