Chapter One

The metal gleamed in the dull lamp light, the stainless steel handle begging to be held. My eyes caressed the blade, the mere thought of the power it held over my life was intoxicating. A single slash down my wrist and it was over. A thrust through my heart and I was finished. Yet, why haven’t I done it? I could always feel my hand reaching for it, searching for it, but never fully have I held it in my grasp. It felt like every time I’d attempt to take it there was some invisible force, a wall, preventing me from holding it. Why did I want to stay here living such a meaningless existence?

A little tune could be heard in the background, bringing my attention away from the blade and onto the cellphone that rested on my neatly fixed bed. Who was texting m- … Oh, I get it. Unlike before, I picked up my phone, not a knife but something that cuts just as deep. Sliding my thumb down my Samsung Note 4’s home pad, a message popped up from an unknown sender. My mind wandered. Should I read it? The answer seemed quite obvious, I should just delete it. The tune then played once again accompanied by multiple vibrations all from unknown numbers. I knew what they were, yet my curiosity got the best of me as I clicked the envelope that laid hidden behind the small blue planet. Written was only a single word.

"Die". I read it so many times waiting for that "Jk" I knew would never come. The next one was from an 832 number that read," why are u still alive charles you should just go kill urself bitch." The next "no one likes you! D:<" and the next," Ur Gruss." Wait. Did they just write "Ur Gruss"? I could feel a sense of dread come over me, but then after having read them a sudden burst of air jumped from my lungs and out of my mouth. I was laughing. Does one normally laugh when their life was threatened? I doubt it, and to be honest I was quite terrified, but their grammar was just too funny to overlook. I was the one that felt bad for them. Air wouldn't stay in me as each time I inhaled I quickly released it back out in another unrefined burst of laughter. Did they seriously write "Gruss"? Didn't they mean Gross? If they wanted to me to die they could at least send the threat properly!

"What's so funny?" Mom asked, lumbering up the stairs.

Oh no, the knife! I dived for the handle, sliding it underneath all my notebooks in the first drawer of my mahogany desk, slamming the drawer shut. A creaking noise notified me that she was here, her ebony hair entering before she did.

"Charles what's so ... Boy you're a mess! Your hair is all messy and your school uniform is just, Jesus!" she scolded.

I simply nodded to show I understood ending off with a grin not wanting to prolong the conversation. She stood there for a moment examining me, her crystal blue irises crawling all over me as if they were searching for something that wasn't there. Mom stuck out her bottom lip, a thing she usually did when she thought something was wrong. A Mother's Intuition she called it. My heart began to thump wildly inside of my chest, my hands pressing against it in a futile attempt to muffle the sound. Does she know? She couldn't have. My thoughts raced, theories popping up from left and right, half of them making completely no sense.

"I came here to tell you to keep it down. Your dad just came back from work and he's sleeping right now, so don't wake him up." she paused waiting for me to affirm that I was listening.

I nodded in agreement, unable to speak due to the fear of her hearing the crack in my voice. She then continued, “Well meet me downstairs in 5 or you won't have time for breakfast before we leave." With that she gave me another reminder to make myself look presentable and left down stair, closing the door behind her. I fell. My legs giving out from underneath due to the pressure creating a loud thud. Luckily she didn't hear it, much to my relief. I didn't want my heart rate to increase when I finally got it to go down. The thumping slowly receded back to it's normal rhythmic beat.

Clenching my fist, I could still feel the phone resting in my hand, a single click of the home button and the screened brightened revealing the numbers "7:10 A.M" in big bold white numbering. Shit. School started around 7:45, and living about 15 minutes away, not including traffic, breakfast didn't seem to like a viable option. Well, would it be such a bad thing not to go? I mean, judging from the lovely text messages I received earlier, I don't think I'd be missed very much. It dawned on me that everything was a simple choice. Do I want to live do I want to die all rested upon a single factor, me. No one else mattered in the long run. I pondered the thought, tossed it around until it deflated and blew into the realm of "reality". I couldn't do it. The reason behind it; my cowardice.

Pushing myself off the ground, I tidied up my shirt, patting down the creases and waves that swept across the black fabric then moved on to my hair. I walked towards the hallway bathroom, my footsteps silent trying not to make any unnecessary noise. Dad was sleep. Had to keep quiet. Having successfully stalked into my bathroom, I gazed upon myself in the mirror, my reflection yelling at me threatening to break the glass. Mom was right, I do look a mess. Strands of dark brown hair stood up like rocks under a waterfall, all that was missing was the water. My eyes were bloodshot, the two blue irises accompanied by large dark bags grew under them something that Mom would call knock-offs of Prada and Gucci as they were big, but not wanted. I couldn't help but laugh at the boy in the mirror. A smile. That wasn't something you see every day, and I knew I wouldn't be seeing another one until the end of the school year, if I make it that long.

Turning on the faucet, I doused the top of my hair with water, flattening the stray brown cuticles that tried to escape, each putting up a struggle but eventually failing in the end. It didn't take long to "fix it". Well it didn't look particularly too bad. Okay it wasn't the best, some parts of my hair began to frizz, others obediently falling where they were supposed to. In the end, I put gel on it to keep the hair from sticking up, my bang swinging above my right eye, hair resting upon my shoulders. Checking for any loose ends, I quickly brushed my teeth at the sound of my mother calling me down stairs, it being already way past 5 minutes. I almost gagged myself to death in the blitz. I rinsed my mouth, took a quick leak, and left the bathroom, my mom staring angrily at me from below.

"Boy do you know what time it is." she asked, her voice hinting that it was pretty late.

"Uh, seven twenty-sixish maybe?" I guessed, receiving a knock on the head for providing the wrong answer.

"Bzz! Nope, it seven thirty. You're not going to have anytime for breakfast, so if you want you can take the plate with you and eat in the car." she advised.

I was unsure whether I should eat, and knowing what today had in stored for me, I took the toast and a single sunny side-up egg and shoved it in my mouth. The flavors intertwined with one another creating an incredibly delicious combination, the taste making me want more. Sadly there was no time for more thanks to yours truly, so I had to be content with the single toast and egg breakfast. Throwing on some black converses to go with my black jeans, I hurried outside the door, Mom rushing me out the house like a drill sergeant running a soldier through a training field of mines.

"Hurry up! You're taking too long! Get in the car Charles!" she demanded.

I entered the large gray Tahoe through the passenger seat up front, the oddly shaped hula dancer coming into my field a vision. Why does she have this here? It always baffled me to see such a deformed Hawaiian girl with caramel skin, white splotches where the paint chipped, a broken arm, and a half a skirt swinging lazily on her side shaking at what it's best could be considered doing the whip, and that's if you looked at it from a certain angle. I tore my eyes away from the gruesome sight, the slamming of the door along with the rumbling of the car signaled that today had just begun.

We drove for a while, my mind conflicting with earlier decisions as I played with the tips of my hair. With each stop sign we passed I could feel my heart dropping, having hit the ground hard and still diving downward. Mom noticed the frown that had come over my face, patted my shoulder in reassurance.

"Charles, don't be scared. It's your first day in high school, look excited for me." she said happily, the gloom I felt from her smile rose.

"You'll make lots of friends kid, I know you will." she finished, a forced smile tugging at my lips.

She found great pleasure in it, patting my head once or twice before returning her attention back on the road. The smile faded while the fear remained, growing and growing until I could feel the hairs on my arm sticking up. Mom didn't know. If she did, she wouldn't say all these things, no one knew. Each day something new, something old, something the same, and these somethings didn't fill me with glee.

If she knew she wouldn't sit there with that stupid grin on her face as she did now. If she knew she wouldn't be dropping me off today. If she knew . . . she would have to feel the same pain that I felt, and that's why she couldn't know. I wouldn't allow it. It was my life that was fucked, not hers. Staring at the beautiful lady before me, she was too good to know what was happening, and in all honesty deserved a son better than myself. I felt the need to thank her, but as always, I couldn't bring myself to do it. My mouth opened, but closed knowing that if I were to say something like that would only cause her to worry. So, I kept my mouth shut, like I did everything else. Coming to a stop, my eyes widen at the large building before me, the words "Reveres High School" sprawled across the front of the school in red weirdly shaped letters.

"Have a good day sweetie." she cooed, planting a kiss on my forehead before shooing me out so she could head to work.

I reluctantly got out, swinging my backpack over my shoulder, my feet feeling like lead with every step I took. Turning back, there was nothing but a cloud of dust as Mom left, her car nowhere to be found. Looking in the direction of the building, my eyes watered, my throat burning, tasting like the undigested egg and toast that I had just consumed. I gulped down the massive amount of saliva in my mouth, managing to keep my food in my stomach where it belonged. Feeling another wave of sickness I gagged, tears falling from my eyes. I hated this. I hated every second of every day of this. I wanted nothing more than to just burn the entire thing to the ground, but instead I was the one on the ground when a random kid bumped into me for kicks, joking and laughing with his friends.

Struggling to get up, I somehow was able to get back on my feet, gravity weighing down on me more heavily than it had been before. Edging my ways the enormous green doors, I wiped away the tears, a voice in the back of my head telling me, “Welcome to another day of Hell ... Let the torture begin."

Chapter Two

  

 Roaming the halls of my new school, I could feel them watching me, every step taken was followed by irritating giggles. I knew not of my audience ... No. I knew who they were, there was no need for me to hide the fact it was them. Although they hid behind the crowd of students, I could feel their stares locking onto my small pale frame. I cringed at their gazes, holding my white backpack in my arms as a source of comfort, though it did nothing to quench my fears. 

"No! It's a new school Charles. No need to be scared of them. They have no control here!” I thought, trying to convince myself that everything wouldn't be like 8th grade year. Ha, who was I kidding? My body trembled, my hands shook so much I thought I would lose hold of my backpack if it weren't for the fact that I had looped my arms through the straps. It was starting all over again and class hadn’t even started yet. “Keep cool. Make it to class first.” With a set goal in mind, the shivering lessened and my body felt somewhat “normal” but I knew that this wouldn’t last forever, so I hurried to the school board centered between two long streaming lines of red lockers. People surrounded it, my composure falling with the growing voices of the prattling students up ahead.

“I want to go home.” I mumbled, an image of me walking outside of this hellhole made me feel slightly better.

Taking a deep breathe, I forced myself in between the sea of teenagers, some laughing at my pitiful struggle while others didn’t take any notice of the wimpy kid between them. Good, I wished everyone thought like that. I was no threat, no harm to anyone, just a plain scrawny boy with the presence comparable to air. However, I wasn’t that invisible scrawny boy, but that noticeable bug that they found in need of a serious squashing. I sighed, once, twice, three times, air spilled from my lungs as I stood in the front now. Quickly, I searched for my name on the large white sheet of paper. There it is! “Smith, Charles Room #127 Mr. Jacobs” it read, the small printed words brought with them song of joy as I swam out of that deadly waters and into the hall. Yes, no longer did I have to stand amongst those bastards. For a second I was relieved, but as I slowed my pace to search for my designated classroom. There, I saw him.

He stood there. His hazel hair glowed in the hallway light, his smile radiated through the halls while his deep chestnut eyes beckoned girls fall to at his feet. His skin was a lovely tan, his pink polo emphasized his chest muscles, his khaki caprice doing the same for his legs. They all worked together in perfect harmony making him what many girls considered to be the perfect human being. I had once thought that too, until I saw what he held deep inside of him, the devil he carried around in the cage of his heart. What I saw was no human, but a hideous beast that installed terror into my very bones. I panicked, my mind running circles trying to find a way into the room. Unable to come up with a solid solution, I ran passed the room scampereing the remaining distance of the hallway until I came upon the boy’s restroom. It was painted with a familiar crimson red , a color that I was undoubtedly used to seeing. Even the building wants me gone.

Idiot. I was a complete idiot! Now how was I supposed to get back to class? I would have to see him anyway, so what did I think walking away was going to do? Scare him? I entered the restroom, my nails digging into the nylon fabric of my backpack as I walked into one of the empty stalls, shutting the door behind. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I can’t believe I just did something like that. Now I’m really screwed. I curled up into a ball on top of the porcelain seat reflecting upon the many idiotic mistakes I made today.

“Maybe he didn’t see me?” I reasoned.

After all, I’m only 5”3’ and compared to all the much taller girls swarming him he couldn’t have seen me. Unless, he was trying too. No, he wouldn’t go out of his way to go looking for me on the first day. I mean, messing with me couldn’t be the first thing on his mind when coming to school, now would it? I sat still on the toilet until the bell chimed, warning us that there was only 5 minutes left to get to class. Damn. I released my grip on my backpack, my claws leaving small crescents where they had once lodged themselves in. Jumping off my makeshift seat, I exited the restroom, my backpack now hanging on my back where it should’ve been. I peered down the hall, nothing. The students were all heading towards their homeroom, leaving me without protection of what was to come. I sighed. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Strolling down the hall, I was in no hurry to get to class. Then again I did not want to be late on my first day, so I quickened my pace. It didn’t take long for me to get there, and luckily, he was no longer standing outside of the door. It still didn’t mean he had up and disappeared though, it just meant that he was somewhere inside waiting for his chance to strike. My hand flew to my mouth as the bile began to rise, hitting the back of my throat. My eyes watered as the taste of acid filled my mouth threatening to come pouring from my gut. With a gulp, I forced it back down my throat, the tears slidding down my cheeks as I gagged. It was horrible, I hadn’t even met him and I was already in this sorry state. Oh how I hated being like this. Hated being so weak that a single thought could have me on the verge of vomiting. It was infuriating, but it was me. Wiping my eyes, I entered the room at the sound of the one minute bell, eyes running over me as if I had invaded Earth with the goal of conquering the unusual planet. Some lost interest after discovering it wasn’t anyone special, others stared knowing fully well who I was, and then it was him.

He knew what he was doing, he knew damn well what he was doing! He knew it, and loved every second of it as I stopped in front of the class, my body having turned into stone from his observant gaze. He was my Medusa and I was no Perseus. No golden shield, sword, or a helmet of invisibility, just a normal man against a monster.

“Take your seat.” A hoarse voice from behind demanded.

I whipped my head around finally free from my spell as I looked at the owner of the voice. A man of little stature, he stood to be about 5”7’ his gray hairs mixing with the dirty brown that still reigned supreme on his head but was on the brink of losing power to the other. His beard was the same as his head except much longer swaying back and forth at his knees. The old man wore a thick pair of black rimmed glasses, a hideous red plaid shirt with pants to match, and brown church shoes that screamed 1950’s.

“Son, I know I have such a gorgeous face, but you need to take your seat so we can get this ball rolling.” He joked, getting a cheap laugh out the class, who was mostly laughing at me instead of his corny joke. 

My face turned beet red as I waddled to my seat, my eyes examining the floors ahead to avoid any misplaced or purposely placed feet in the aisle. As expected, stray feet were plentiful, but I somehow managed to avoid them except for one. He took me by surprise how fast his foot moved into place my clumsy feet falling over his own. I could remember seeing a quick blur before falling face first onto the ground, my backpack increasing the force of the fall. A loud roar of laughter filled the air, the sound filling the room, the halls, and my ears. Stop it. Why does this always happen to me? I propelled myself up, staring at my assailant, the bastard who laughed silently in his chair, Stephen.

“I’m sorry Charles. You need some help there?” he asked, unable to hide the obvious smile that ran across his face. I growled, the rumbling accidentally escaping my my throat. I stood up, dusting my pants off refusing the hand that stood suspended in air. I could hear the clicking of tongues as I passed the jerk, the girls all glaring at me with murderous intent.

“He was just being nice prick.” A girl mumbled.

“You’re lucky enough he even talked to an emo like you.” Another added.

“Fucking ungrateful!” The last one insulted.

Ha! Ungrateful? Prick? Lucky? Those bitches didn’t know a damn thing. They didn’t know what that snake was capable of, they didn’t even know they’ve already succumbed to his venomous bite. But now as I sat in my seat, I knew I had already fallen into his trap, again. Everything same, everything new, but today everything old as I shivered in my wood stone desk, the scene from middle school replaying itself like a bad Michael Bay movie. A desk, a wimpy kid, and a Decepticon aiming to kill him, only thing missing were the explosions. With the final bell, class was to begin, not before the announcements were made greeting all this year’s freshmen. Soon the Pledge of Allegiance came on, everyone forced to stand up and repeat it, many of them lazily moving their mouth in unison with the orator’s voice. After a few more announcements that no one bothered listened too, the principal bid us a good day and then was the start of my new Hell … Yay.

 

 ******

 

Mr. Jacobs introduced himself to the class as all teachers do on the first day. He told us a great deal about his hobbies, his family, and his college experience almost putting half of the students to sleep. I quivered in my desk, the girls now shooting angry scowls at me for insulting the “good will” of that beast a few seats ahead of me. Stephen enjoyed the attention he was receiving even more so the attention I was receiving. He loved when his plans went well and detested when things didn't go the way he wanted. A child with too much power in his hand is what described him the best. I ignored them, finding relief in the sound of Mr. Jacob rough voice as he began telling us a story about how he found his wife. Quite an anti-climactic tale really. They met when they grabbed the same book while studying in some college and started to date one another which led to his proposal with a bagel and a happily ever after for them. Then it was time for the personal greeting, the part in which you state your name and age and say something interesting about yourself.

"Let's start with you up front. Your name is?" Mr. Jacob asked, a boy with flaming red hair took the stand, his entire face was pierced.

Whatever piercing one could possibly have he had it as he introduced himself as Dylan Chestnut in front of them all. Standing up like a fool as they watched me, begging for me to make myself look like an imbecile so they wouldn't have to. Watching the next person, my eyes widened to see an upright Stephen glancing back at me as he introduced himself to his new minions, his words fell from his lips like honey, but stung like stingers.

"My name is Stephen McCarthy, I'm 16, and I enjoy reading." he spoke.

Reading? He never read a single book in his life! I knew because all the books he checked out from the library he'd leave them in his lockers to collect dust. "Reading" was only for show. In fact he despised literature as he found it too time consuming, nor did he have enough brain cells to comprehend the meaning of the words within. He knew nothing of the power of words, so how in the hell did he know that they would hurt me so much? So much that I felt suffocated everywhere I went. So much that I'd want to kill myself cause of them, but not enough to actually do it. I hate him. I hate him so much that I'd burn him to the stake, but I was the one burning. He sat nice and cool in his chair while I sat drenched in oil awaiting that one match to set me ablaze. They would say, no more Charles at last. And I would be happy to, to finally be gone from this place. Happy. So very happy.

"Son in the back. Son. Son!" Mr. Jacob hollered in front of the room, pointing his old disfigured finger in my direction. Huh? Was it my turn? I pushed out of my seat, my legs falling over one another causing me to fall flat on my bottom. My fall set out a chain reaction of giggles with a few snorters as I stood up, all eyes were on me now.

"Umm." I hesitated, my voice not wanting to come out. I knew what to say, but when it came down to it, nothing. The air was no longer in my lungs. I opened my mouth, and as expected, nothing came. I tried once again and the same results followed.

"Charles." I finally managed after 2 minutes of embarrassing silence. Mr. Jacob looked relieved to know that he hadn't been placed with a special child. Who would blame him?

Having found my voice, I spoke." My name is Charles Smith, I'm 16 and I'm ..."

"Good at cutting myself." a feminine voice hollered, catching Mr. Jacob's attention. My heart stopped. Another voice joined in the mix.

“Gay.” It said, this time coming from a boy.

“Who said that?” Mr. Jacob asked, searching for the culprit, he’d never find. I wanted him to stop.

His help would only make things worse. Utterly speechless, I gasped for air, their probing eyes stabbed holes into my body. I didn’t like this, not a single bit. It was quite obvious that I was having a seizure, my asthma acting up again due to all the pressure placed upon me by the devils around me.

“Inhaler. Need my inhaler.” I squealed, opening the middle pocket of my bag pack to pull out a tiny blue inhaler. I force the open end into my mouth and breathe in the horrid smelling medication. I calmed down, the world now becoming a strange place of dancing blurs and flashing lights.

“What is it Charles?” a beautiful pink ember dragon asked, sipping tea from fine china.

A talking dragon? That’s new. I felt the need to respond, but the sound of yelling voices entered my head followed by something of a chuckle in the background. What was going on? I didn’t understand, but I could hear a loud thud, a wave of cold running across my delicate cheeks. The cold then transformed into a pitch black darkness, and I was done, passed out on the dirty tile floor. Well, wonder what dreams I’ll have.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.04.2015

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