"Hey!", called out your voice as loud as possible to get your attention. "Only and you can crowd against one? Doesn't seem fair, don't you think?", your lips were one straight line expressing seriousness as you rolled up the sleeves of the school shirt on your skinny arms. The guys beating up the boy broke away from him, glancing at each other and smirking smugly as the new prey begged for their hands. The sense of heightened justice inside you made you go even against five bullies, knowing that in this fight you were the loser.

You threw a couple punches right in the face of one of the bullies. You became a face painter, painting his face blue and red. When you got hit in the ribs, you thought about how you'd explain yourself to your mom for the grass stains on your school uniform. When you got hit in the solar plexus, you thought about how you'd have to justify to the principal how you'd 'unluckily' fallen.

You and that kid sat at the back of the school on the playground, putting a bottle to your battered face to numb the pain a bit. Two strangers from the same high school were now bound together by one thing - the bruises on their bodies, somewhere torn and dirty school uniforms.

He looked at you and you could tell he was tormented by some inner turmoil and respect for you in his eyes. "Thank you for standing up for me...", the twelve year old started to say picking his words, "But don't think I won't repay you later. I'm already practicing. Know what? I'm Gary Sanderson, I will definitely become strong, join the army and protect everyone I care about. Remember my name and my words," even though Gary's Adam’s apple was jumping with emotion, you could see the determination and seriousness in his eyes.

And now you were looking at a skinny guy just like you, named Gary. A guy you didn't know, the guy you stood up for. And you saw him as a force to be reckoned with. You each gained a friend that day, sitting at the behind the school with battered but painfully satisfied faces.