spencer had no idea what the fuck was happening. his book had been snatched from his hands, tossed aside as somebody’s hands yanked a cloth over his eyes. he was pulled, tugged here and there until he bumped into a metal pole. he pleaded, he begged and begged for them to let him go, but he knew it was useless when he felt them beginning to pull his clothes from his body, until nothing was left. his wrists hurt, the course rope digging into his skin as they tied him to the goal post. he knew people didn’t like him around school, but did they really hate him this much?