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#disclaimer: i was not paying attention when the teacher explained the process so my comic is most certainly wildly incorrect
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Had to make a comic for gov class
and of course i jumped at the opportunity to have an assignment feature these two mischievous lads
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turning in my funny little drawings of funny little queer cartoon villains explaining how bills become laws, for a grade? brilliant
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terrablaze514 · 6 years
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Believe In Yourself (Freedom Fighters WIP)
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are the property of Katsuyuki Sumizawa, Sunrise, and its affiliates. I'm only borrowing them.
Summary: Children will live what they learn. Pain is costly until one incident sparks a new flame of hope and a promise to persevere. (Rated T)
The gray clouds loomed over the playground at Broomfield Elementary, where countless children played without a care in the world. One small boy walked around with his walkie-talkie when a group of taller kids approached him.
“Look at him,” one jeered. “He’s so lonely he needs a walkie!”
“That’s funny - he doesn’t even talk properly!” said another with a giggle.
“He’s the biggest nerd in our class,” said the ringleader. “So obsessed with geeky things, it’s pathetic.”
“Loser! Loser! Loser!”
The cobalt-eyed boy chose to ignore and walked away. This life, he’d never asked for. Ever since his mother and stepfather got killed in that plane crash returning from Japan, he felt so displaced, uptight and cold. His messy, dark brown hair and golden complexion revealed some clues about his heritage. However, this seemed to give the sixth grade bullies an advantage to target seven-year-old Heero Yuy.
If that's not enough, the group of six approached him. Again. One pushed him against the wall. Another grabbed his backpack and hung it upside down, as its contents fell. Three comic books, a Transformers action figure (Optimus Prime), and a new device he worked on for his Science project.
More taunts. Words hurt.
The small boy watched in horror as his work-in-progress got stomped on; dented and cracked. Before a frustrated Heero could react, the ringleader punched him in the abdomen.
Heero doubled over and tried to catch his breath. Another bully’s steel toe struck his left knee.
“Ouch!”
Little did they realize the red button of his walkie-talkie, perched against a lonesome staircase, was pushed. There’s only one person who had another walkie-talkie of their own. Without question, a seven-year-old American with a long chestnut braid crept up from behind, removed his own backpack, and whipped three of the bullies at once.
As the three older kids fell, their taunts and laughter were replaced with wails and agonized pain.
Good. At least his backpack had rocks in them.
Another witness of the incident grabbed the ringleader’s leg, yanked and twisted it, with little to no consideration. That good-for-nothing showoff truly deserved it. Enough is enough.
Unable to process how that came about, the ringleader begged for mercy from a-
Six-year-old Chinese boy?
Without warning, a third witness with blond hair and teal eyes gathered and assembled Heero’s belongings and stuffed them into his backpack, as quick as possible. He had secretly hoped this rescue plan packed a good punch.
The fourth witness, despite his mutism, threw swift kicks and punches at the other bully who originally injured Heero’s knee. Without question, he returned the favour with a stomp on said bully’s left knee... Nobody hurts his friends like that.
No one.
The tables have turned and the bullies in question resorted to evasion. They dashed away- or limped- crawled and cried- whatever. Serves them right.
“Who’s weak now? Huh?” Duo taunted. He was the eldest of the bunch by a few months; the only extrovert in their group.
“Enjoy your tears and sod off next time!” snapped Wufei.
Ignoring the pair who spent some time giving the bullies their just rewards, Trowa and Quatre helped a shaken, tearful Heero up. Quatre also wore Heero’s backpack and gave Trowa a nonverbal signal. When the slightly taller seven-year-old nodded in response, Quatre ran over to the staircase and took Heero’s walkie-talkie. He ran back and positioned himself under Heero’s left arm; Trowa under his right.
Duo and Wufei approached them and noticed Heero’s reddened jeans.
“Oh my god! We should bring him to the nurse’s office!”
“Wait.”
Wufei ripped off part of his sleeve from his white tunic, rolled it once, and wrapped it around Heero’s knee.
“This should help stop the bleeding for a while,” he said. “I’ve read it in a book once.”
“Let’s go!” Duo commanded.
×-+-×
In the Nurse’s Room, Heero winced in pain; he hissed his teeth as the nurse applied a plastic bag of cold ice on his knee. In his current position, he sat upright (save for his hurt leg) on the royal blue matted bed. His tear-stained cheeks flushed pink when Duo returned to the room and took a seat next to him.
“I’ve explained everything to Mrs. Brampton,” he began. “However, she wants to hear your side of the story.”
Heero shot him a funny look. Well, it looked funny to Duo, but the others would’ve had different opinions if they saw him right now.
“It wouldn’t make a difference,” Heero said. “The story will only repeat itself. The bad guys always win. The good guys, or anyone who fights back, as well as those who stand up for the bullied ones-”
“She’s not like the other teachers, Heero,” Duo interjected. “Unlike most of them, she knows how to look at all sides of a problem. That’s why I trust her.”
“I think you’ve meant all angles,” said Heero. “Regardless of which good adults remain, nobody cares to listen. I often fear that this trend will continue as I get older. People will never allow certain people to have a voice just because of how they look, where they’re from, or who their parents were. Who pays rent or mortgage. Who drives which car. Who’s net income is the highest? Who has an excellent credit score? Who lives in the best neighbourhood. At the end of the day, anyone with the best of these wins life’s greatest benefit…”
At this point, Heero’s shoulders slumped as he stared down at the beige floor.
“Having a voice, and the freedom to be heard. Not just seen, but heard. Heard by the ears who will truly listen and understand…”
His voice trailed off. A tear rolled down his cheek. Duo placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and prodded him a little.
“C’mon Heero! It’s not the end of the world. I know a lot of things don’t make much sense but, we can still win!”
Sniff.
Sniff.
“If only- you w-were a gr-grow-n up!”
Duo’s eyes widened. He knew what was coming.
Heero’s guilt trip…
Without hesitation, Duo moved in and wrapped his arms around the former. His forehead touched Heero’s shoulder while the sobs came.
“It’s okay,” said Duo. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“You’re wrong, it is the end,” Heero said between sobs. “It’s the bad guys who always win. There’s no such thing as freedom for the good guys, like us.”
“Why are you so hooked on the negative?” Duo asked. He tried his best not to sound alarmed.
“Because it’s a fact. Every adult fails in this area… giving us younger ones a voice without shutting us down.”
Before Duo could tighten his grip, Heero shoved him aside and slapped his own head on impulse. His eyes were distant now, as he slammed his right foot against the bed. This lasted for three minutes, even though Duo’s patience grew thin.
An educational assistant once explained to him that Heero bangs his head against things to help regulate his emotions, even though they’re working on curbing this behavioural pattern for his safety.
Right now, he’s fearful of the unforeseen future. He’s internalized the hurt that comes from school. His adoptive family has tried everything to boost his self-esteem and confidence. It worked at first, and he’s walked away from every bully he came across at school. His learning needs were met by a few teachers who always came prepared with extra tasks for him because typical in-class assignments took him five to seven minutes to complete. Heero’s intellectual abilities have created a new rhythm among his peers. As soon as he finished writing a paper, read two chapters in a book, completed a set of Math operations, or Social Studies, Heero used his free time to build new things. He has also fixed a loose bookshelf once and helped resolve issues with computer hardware and software.
The young boy had the mind of a genius.
An advanced barometer that also measured the possible impact of incoming stormy weather, divided by the rise or fall of temperature and air pressure, was a project he worked on for his Mad Science class. Today, its current progress got destroyed by the sixth-grade bullies. It took him fifty steps back from his goal. This specific project was due in a month from today, granted that Dr. J and Professor G taught this multigrade class twice per week (since they also teach University students at Yale).
Without further ado, Duo made another attempt to regain Heero’s attention. He pulled his friend in a tight, warm hug; the impulse movements stopped.
“Trowa will pass by in a few moments,” said Duo. “In the meantime, are you feeling any better?”
Heero gave him a vigorous nod, but the memory of his wrecked Science project brought the tears back. This was too much for him to deal with. Duo rubbed Heero’s hair as they rolled down his cheeks.
‘I can’t wait for those losers to leave this school for good!’ Duo thought. ‘Besides, karma is real and it will hit them where it hurts the most.’
Just then, Trowa and their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Brampton, appeared in the doorway.
“I’m fully aware of what transpired during recess today,” she began. “Heero, I’m ready to listen when you’re calm.”
She entered the room with Trowa trailing behind, knelt down and wiped Heero’s tears.
“I need you to take three deep breaths. Then you will tell me who the bullies were and what they’ve done.”
Heero slightly sat up and nodded. He felt at ease after trying her breathing exercise. His voice croaked a little as he spoke.
“It all started when-”
“Mrs. Brampton!” the principal’s voice bellowed. “I need to see you in my office immediately!”
“Give me five minutes. I’m dealing with something important right now.”
“NOW!”
What? The way the principal shouted at their teacher made the boys feel uncomfortable. Both Duo and Heero shuddered at the sound of his voice, while Trowa cowered away and assumed a protective stance in front of her. Mrs. Brampton still stood her ground and looked directly at her boss.
“I’m in the middle of an important conversation. One of my students got hurt - so can you wait until we’re done?”
“I don’t take orders from undergraduate degree holders!” the principal snapped. “Besides, those two,” he gestured Duo and Trowa with accusatory fingers, “and their other comrades had the nerve to injure six kids today!”
Trowa clenched his fists as he glared at the adult in question.
Duo snapped, “It was self-defence! Why would you allow several kids to gang up on one? That’s pathetic! They did him dirty and the moment my friends and I noticed, we had to jump in. None of the outdoor supervisors came to see what was happening. I suggest you talk to them instead!”
The moments that transpired hereafter had left Heero alone in the Nurse’s Room, with an injured leg, a bag of ice, the silent walls, and a note from his teacher on the back of a pink slip. She was fired for being one of the best teachers he ever had. Duo was right; her willingness to listen and understand didn’t go unnoticed. It’s too bad that moment was cut short, so what now? Duo, Trowa, and presumably, Quatre and Wufei sat in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded by a sorry excuse of a grown-up. One who refused to show the same amount of integrity that Mrs. Brampton had.
Ugh. Even adults were bullies, too. The way that temper-tantrum-having principal snapped at his teacher moments ago confirmed this reality. She was wrongfully terminated at that. What a mess…
He read the note one more time:
Heero, I’m truly sorry that things had to end this way - what you’ve witnessed shouldn’t have been. You will have another teacher sometime next week. In the meantime, don’t worry too much about me. I have my own battles to fight. I need you to know that this situation, and countless others, are battles that you and your friends must fight as well. It won’t be easy, but if there’s anything that I want you to remember, it comes straight from our Moral Education lesson last month. *Believe In Yourself. Always aim high and stand up for something that truly matters to you. Ignore the negative talks and surround yourself with positive energy. That’s the key. Hold it and use it.* Don’t forget to tell the rest of your classmates, especially your closest friends… *Be the change you want to see.*
Heero folded the note and slipped it into the front pocket of his blue jacket. As he zipped it, his adoptive parents appeared at the door.
An early dismissal it is.
~Owari~
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