To Cloud’s dismay, Tifa never woke the next morning. She laid in deep coma. Days turned into weeks with no progress in her condition. Everybody blamed Cloud for this unfortunate turn of events. Cloud refused to defend himself. He believed there was no reason to explain himself to anybody. The boy knew what the real story was, and that was good enough for him. As a result of his silence the story went on as saying it was Cloud’s idea to play on Nibel Mountain pressuring Tifa to go along with him. The alleged story was accepted as fact and that’s how it stayed.

Tension had risen between Tifa’s friends (all the children in the village) and Cloud. Angry at his indifferent attitude, some kids began to talk bad about Cloud and spread damaging rumors. Others openly insulted him as he walked the streets shouting offensive comments. The cruelty went on for weeks until one day the situation became insurmountable.

It was the fifth week of Tifa’s coma. Things looked bleak for the girl. The town feared she might never wake. That morning, Cloud went on an errand for his mother to get some gysahl herbs for seasoning the food. As he made his way to the Item Shop, Cloud noticed a trio of teenagers leer at his presence. The boy’s skin crawled as he felt their eyes scrutinize his every movement. Without prior notice, the teens had begun following him. Cloud was intimidated by their hostile appearance, and feared they were going to ambush him. As his pace picked up so did there’s. Fortunately, he made it to the shop before either of them could pull alongside him.

Strago was working that morning. He gave Cloud the same piercing gaze he had once bestowed back on Nibel Mountain. Strago was a miserable old man who held grudges and resented life itself. He detained malicious feelings for Cloud because he believed it was the boy’s fault Tifa was presently in a coma.

Cloud walked to the counter and asked, “Can I get some gysahl herbs?”

Strago reached under the counter, grabbed a small bag of the herbs and rudely slammed it in front of Cloud’s face on the counter.

“That’ll be a hundred Gil,” Strago coldly said.

Cloud handed him the money and took his merchandise. Before he left, Cloud glimpsed out of the shop window. The teens following him were gone. Cloud was filled with anxiety as he walked back to his house. He had a feeling they were still out somewhere. Cloud felt an unknown force aggressively tackle him to the concrete pavement. He laid face down on the floor struggling with no success. The boy was then lifted up to his feet and abruptly put into a chokehold by one his attackers. They were the three teenagers that had been shadowing him earlier. Their names were Bartz, Faris, and the one holding him, Galuf.

“You don’t look so tough now!” Bartz said punching Cloud in his rib cage. It felt like a mule had kicked him in his side. Cloud would’ve collapsed if hadn’t been for Galuf holding him to his feet.

“This one’s for Tifa!” Faris said spinning around and giving a full roundhouse kick to Cloud’s face. The momentum from the kick knocked Cloud out of Galuf’s grip and to the floor. He was dazed and bleeding from the mouth. Cloud’s vision was blurred. As his eyes focused he saw Strago observing from his Item Shop window. The old man found a morbid sense of pleasure of seeing Cloud get what he deserved. The three teenagers began kicking and stepping on his already beaten body.

“Let’s see how you like to be in a coma! You filthy imp!” Galuf said stepping on Cloud with his boot heel.

“Why’d you have to force Tifa to go up the mountain?” Faris said kicking him in the stomach.

Cloud rolled his body into a tight ball. He grinded his teeth and shut his eye’s bracing himself for wave after wave of kicks. The abuse was endless. Cloud prayed with all his might that they’d get tired and leave him alone. His prayer went unanswered.

Cloud’s mom slowly stirred the vegetable stew as the salty steam rose from the black pot. She took a sip from the wooden spoon and realized it needed more seasoning. She wondered what was taking her son so long to get the gysahl herbs.

“Here’s the herbs,” Cloud said.

She turned to see Cloud standing with a bloody lip and clothes dirty from his jeans to his collar. He placed the herbs on the table and walked towards his room. His mother followed him troubled by his current form.

“Cloud, aren’t you going to tell me what happened?” she asked concerned.

He stopped in the middle of the flight of stairs, “Those jerks, Bartz, Faris, and Galuf jumped me.”

“What? They’re twice your size, and twice your age,” she said, “Why, Cloud?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, mom?”

“I know why. Because they’re cowards!” she said furiously, “Grown boys picking on a six year old is cowards work!”

His mother rushed to the front door, “I’ll take care of this!”

“What are you going to do, mom?” Cloud asked. But she had already left.

Cloud went to his room to lie in his bed. As his eyes scrolled the ceiling of the room, sounds of people arguing outside interrupted his train of thought. The mother had gone outside to confront the children who attacked her son. The arguing stopped for a moment.

“Cloud, come downstairs!” His mother yelled from below.

He followed her voice to the front door. With her stood the parents of the three teenagers.

A heavy man with a thick beard strutted to Cloud, “Did our boy’s rough you up?”

“Yes, sir,” Cloud said in a low tone.

“That’s all I needed to know,” the man said leaving with the other parents.

The mother of one of the teenagers said, “I’m sorry this happened, Mrs. Strife,” before taking leave.

Cloud gave his mother an imply look, “Why’d you have to make a big deal about it?”

“But…” Cloud’s mom began to say. He didn’t stay to hear her explanation. The boy marched his way back to the room.

Cloud threw himself onto his bed and went to sleep.

It was the middle of the night when he woke up. Cloud had gone to sleep too early and now was unable to get back to his slumber. He quietly left the house for some fresh night air, and to reflect on his life. The moon was bright and silver surrounded by the blackness of the sky. Cloud stopped in front of Tifa’s house. It had been a month since he had seen her last. A month since she flashed her amber eyes, or her cheerful smile. Cloud observed the area to see if any person was there. The streets were deserted. He rushed to her home and began climbing the drainpipe. Cloud ascended the drainpipe until he made it next to Tifa’s bedroom window. He lightly pushed it, and, to his surprise, the window opened. Cloud crept into Tifa’s room like a thief in the night. He saw the girl lay peacefully in her bed. The moonlight shined its radiant glow over the dormant child. It was as if a gorgeous angel lay before him. Her face was pale like milk, and her eyelids were lavender. Cloud knelt beside her.

“Tifa…” he said hoping the girl would respond. She didn’t.

“If I wasn’t so weak I could’ve saved you. You would still be laughing and having fun. And I wouldn’t be hated by all your friends,” Cloud sighed, “You were my only friend and I couldn’t even save you.”

His mouth began to hurt as he talked. The split lip he received from the kick to his face had become swollen. “I’m ashamed of being weak,” he stopped for a moment to choke back his tears. “From this day on, I’m going to do my best to be strong, I promise. Nobody will ever pick on me, and if they do…I’ll beat the crap out of them. You watch. And when you come out of your coma…‘cause I know you will. You’re strong. And when you wake up, I’ll never let you fall again, I promise.”

Tifa’s bedroom door opened. The silhouette of her father stood at the entrance like a night watchman. He walked to her bedside. His face twisted to a frowned and said, “Oh, Tifa, I thought I heard a voice. I hoped it was yours.” He stooped his head and slinked out of the room.

Cloud had made it back outside and hung tightly to the drainpipe. With her father gone, he took one last peek into Tifa’s room, and climbed down house.

He went back to his bed and slept peacefully. Knowing the next day things would change forever.