Your sprained ankle barely carrying you. The dull throbbing pain in your head at least numbs the pain in your shoulder and forearms. Though it does little to quell the pain in your side from your broken ribs. You glance over to the group of people behind you. Dressed in black school uniforms, roughly a dozen of them.

They are all standing roughly ten-fifteen feet behind you. Looking at you with hate, and some fear in their eyes. They are clumped up together like posing for a group photo, and do not advance on you. Even though they've been kicking the hell out of you a minute ago. Then a long shadow descended from the direction the sun was setting, and covered you all. Forcing them to back off as if something physically pushed them away.

"Go on! Get out of here!" their leader yells, but does not cross the long shadow.
Whatever curses leave your mouth, they are barely a whisper, you cough as you continue. Away from them, away from your home. Following the distant figure that casts that long shadow.

You look down upon yourself, and verify that your strongest asset is still there, surviving the battering.

>Your fist, you always had the meanest right punch
>Your leg, it started with kicking ball and soon it became kicking people
>Your abs, rock hard and keeping your organs mostly protected, helping stamina
>Write-in