As Peter woke up for school, he lived a full eight seconds of bliss until he realized that the fight was that day! An ache that was reluctant to leave weighed upon his back as he stretched, made his bed, got dressed, and headed downstairs. 

"Morning, honey," she said. Peter did not return the greeting, though he wanted to. But one who was anxious could not respond assembly as she greeted. Instead, he wearily rose his right hand and smiled, a smile that was more of a grimace.

"Peter, honey," his mother walked over to the slouching Peter. "Are you alright? Normally, you're social and nice. Is this one of your schizo--" 

"I'M NOT SCHIZOPHRENIC!!!"

Silence.

Peter's father  comes running down the stairs, "What's the matter? What's happening?!" His wife was on the verge of tears. "Peter," said the father. "WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO RUDE WHEN YOU HAVE AN ATTACKING SCHIZ--" His mother caught him off, "Let's all have oatmeal, shall we?" Peter sat down and put his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid..." he whispered to himself. "But I can't say that at the fight today, can I?" he looked out into the winter forest and saw the rosy sun rising above the horizon, pressing time into Peter's mind. 

For the first time in five years, his left eye shed a tear. He did not bother to hide it, how could he? He felt babyish when he cried, but at that moment, he was glad to cry. 

"You can forget about your bellow," he heard his dad say. He turned to his mother to apologize, but saw out of the corner of his eye that is father was not speaking.

"You're in for it, this time," he heard his dad say. But this time, his mouth was moving. 

After School

Peter walked out of the building, knowing that what awaited him gave him his current mood. Andrew, as buff as a bull, walked out and onto the "Fight Podium". 

"FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT," the crowd chanted and jeered. Eric patted Peter on the back in sympathy. But Peter was ready to fight. 

As the countdown ended, Andrew rushed at Peter. Peter hastily thought, maybe some kind of detail he could base his attack on, but all that he could muster was WHAT?!

Peter quickly dropped and rolled over Andrew's feet, tripping him. Peter kicked him in the arm and stooped his right leg on his back, as he lowered to Andrew's face, saying, "You were so close..." Peter realized this was risky, especially after the look on Andrew's face as he scrambled up and punched Peter down. Peter kicked Andrew in the leg, tripping him on top of himself, as he rolled over, crushing Peter. 

Who was he kidding, he couldn't compete this way. As Andrew let him up to fight, Peter scrambled up and ran at Andrew. He flew his fist into Andrew's nose.

The crowd went silent as Peter dropped Andrew from his shoulder. Andrew's nose was bleeding, not broken, but still hurt. He looked bewildered at Peter's tactics. 

As Peter walked to his house, the crowds parted and let him through. Clearly, there was a new Peter in town. But Andrew couldn't stand this popularity. He kicked Peter from behind, knocking him onto the hard concrete sidewalk. He immediately lost consciousness and bled severely from his hair. His eyes were glazed, but not yet dead.

Kids started to run up to Peter as Andrew was trying to get their attention, saying, "But he did it to me, and I didn't fall like a weak toddler!" 

"Help, somebody!" Eric screamed.