Chapter 1: "...and he could pretend to be okay. "

Ruined.

 

Everything was ruined; And always will be. This wasn't home anymore, it never would be.

The small bedroom cooled in a tint of blue, as a young boy lay quietly in his bed, fighting the urge to run far away. Like a trapped rat the feeling gnawed at him, he clutched at his sides as freedom rang in his ear. He was tempted, even more so as the ground shook violently- Arguing could be heard from downstairs.

His thoughts grew worse, drowning out the shattering of glass and enraged screaming. 'I-NEED-TO-LEAVE. INEEDTOLEAVE. INEEDTOLEAVE-' He repeated the mantra over and over again, as the urge to flee grew stronger.
The night was silenced as a slap was heard from below, followed by the sound of wailing. His mind froze, the silence seemed to crawl on by, he strained his ears trying everything to catch ANYTHING. It wasn't until a full minuet later did time seem to unfreeze itself. A full minuet that he realized he was holding his breath.

The stomping of feet, sent chills down his spine. His only reassurance was that they weren't head towards his room. The fighting continued. 'WEAK.' So weak, and could nothing to alleviate the situation. But no, he didn't feel sad, he felt disgusted with himself as he CHOSE to lay curled up, clasping his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the sound of madness. All but a whisper could be heard, piercing it's way threw the darkness.

"I'm selfish."

The words played though his mind. This was his fault. He was the disappointment that fed his parents anger. 'I wish I could just disappear.' Ripping off the thick blankets his mind began to waunder.

Getting up he quietly moved towards the look out the large window opposite of his bed. He cursed under his breath when the floorboards creeked underneath his feet, but kept moving forward. It hung over his work space- a small desk with the average small lamp and side drawer.

Now Standing in front of the frosted window he opened it, cool air wooshed inside snuffing out the remaining warmth his room held. Shuttering the boy looked out into the darkness, glancing down on to the streetlights below, not a soul in site. Looking over the neighborhood all seemed normal. Almost like they seemed oblivious to the havoc that rained from downstaires. However, he knew better. His chest hurt when the realization hit him one day. The neighbors could hear; they did in the past anyway. Having called the police, more than once, that was a time when he still had hope. But because the fighting continued and his parents would never rat each other out, the 911 calls seemed to have stopped, and the neighbors gave up, turning a blind eye. It simply became a part of everyday life.

Any last shred of light left, vanished the day the world left him behind. But why does it still hurt? It's not like he expects any thing better...He squashed that thought quickly, like snuffing out a flame. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked toward the stars.

'People are disgusting.'

His eyes traced patterns in the stars, he didn't really know the Constellations- besides the big dipper- But that didn't matter, the brown haired boy made up is own. Like cloud watching, all it took was a little imagination. Sometimes he wished to be more motivated, maybe then could know their names and tales. To say their names aloud and full of absolute certainty. Ryan would laugh while calling him a nerd, and he would join him not minding in the least, because they were friends, and he could pretend to be okay. To act like life was normal.

It was a quit desistion, with swift movements he grabbed the brass handle of the desk drawer pulling it open. Inside held a small snap blade. Taking it out feeling it's weight, the weight of his existance. The grip easily fit into his palm. His fingers ran over the back of the sparp blade, moving down till they firmly gripped the handel. A sense of power could be felt from the weapn, causing his spirit to calm. -He frowned, looking back out the window.- Not like he was ever going to use it.

"What are you doing still up?"

 He mothers voice shattered his thoughts. Eyes widening he quickly slid the Knife into the pocket of his jeans. Turing around he faced the woman; a chill running down his spine. He was so stupid. Caught up in his own disgusting world, he failed to pay attention. Failed to notice the eerie stillness that took hold of the house..

 

"Sorry, mom I had just finished studying and-d not I'm going to go to bed". He clenched his teeth, eyes seemingly to search the room. That was not the case, he just wanted to look anywhere but her.

 

The woman sighed looking down at her red nails, " You know, I don't like Lies Gareth". Her brown eyes flickered back up, trying to read her son. 'Children. Yes I love my child, I want him to do well in life.'

 

He physically flinched when she moved towards him, reaching her hand behind him he braced himself. Only to Jolt in surprise when she closed the window he had left open. 'Ungrateful children.' She moved back looking at her son "You're father left earlier."

 

The boys stomach dropped and the blood draiin from his face. Though her words were suddent and cold she smile satisfide "but he'll be back soon just stopping by the convenent store". Still smiling she turned and walked out the door.

 

The air was still as only a small "Good nigh Gareth". could be heard from the hallway. Gareth stooof for a few seconds trying to breath, his dad was going to return so he had nothing to worry about. It was stupid for his emotions to be this out of control. Moving to his bed, he let out a sigh of relief, but that quickly turned to anxiety as thoughts of unsertanty filled his terrified mind.

 

Covering up, sleep began to overcome him and his mind fell into a void.

 

"...I'm so stupid..."

Chapter 2: Laughter

Having walked through the downpour, Gareth sighed in relief as he entered the double doors of the school building. It was one of the only places he could forget about life at home; pretened everything was still normal. He wasn't very noticble but not alone, a shadow in a world made for them. Unzipping his damp Hoodie he made his way toward the lockers.

 

 

 

Quickly opening his locker, gareth noticed other people entering the school and it reassured him that school hasn't started yet. Every time the entrance doors opened and closed, the soft sound of rain hummed through the quiet halls. It being May, It was like summer was just around the corner, making the young boy feel uneasy. After taking off his damp hoodie, he stuffed it into the old locker and gathered his things. Locking it a familiar voice could be heard.

 

 

 

"Hey! Gareth!" His friend beambed.

 

 

 

Turning while holding the books to his side Gareth stuck his hand up a fist bumping into the palm. "Yeah!" A boy yelled out before drawing back smiling in victory; An everyday greeting. Gareth then mumbled out.

 

 

 

"Hey Ryan." A chill running threw him as he glanced back towards the double doors a few more students trailed inside, letting in the cold morning air. Looking back he realized the other boy was soaking wet, Gareth wiped his hand on the dark grey jeans. Ryan, not even wearing a Jacket. Had water dripping from his thin red hair, and down his Chicago cubs t-shirt.

 

 

 

'They say idiots can't catch colds, but should we really test the theory?' Gareth smiled at the joke when-

 

 

 

"Gareth?" Ryan called. Having spaced out Gareth returned to the living with a look of confusion.

 

 

 

'... was he saying something before?'

 

 

"Hey did you here anything I was just talking about?"

 

 

'Crap, he was talking. Well might as well play the good friend and make something up.' "Yep, yeah. Look, we have to hurry, class is going to start soon..."  He swifty turned and started racing off. 'Man, did I not get enough sleep last night?'

 

Walking into class, and having successfully ditched Ryan, Gareth tried to ninja his way toward the back of the class only to find his usual seat taken. Feeling a little disappointed the boy took the first seat that was open, which just happened to be in the front row. Dread filled his very being as he shoved his daily supplies into the metal desk.

 

Now it was only a matter of time before Mr. Ault decided he would call on someone (from the first row) to answer the questions on the board. Those who were in the first row would either be victorious; earning respect from their fellow pupils or get knocked down and humiliated, forever labled a failer and decide they would get F's the rest of the year. School always looked hard, but it was always harder, meaner and there is no light at the end of the tunnel they called freedom. Only the final bell rings could save you.

 

As if on cue the first bell rang, in an ironic way I guess it was a reminder that hell had just begun. The class room hushed and Mr. Ault walked to the front of the class to give the morning lecture on how teens should respect their teachers. That was when Gareth began to sort his things, laying out an old note book he began searching for his pencil case...

 

'Huh? I swear I brought it with me.' Confused he looked in the desk only to find a couple pens. Now he wasn't an A+ student but even he knew not to forget a pencil in this war zone. A little disgruntled he stuck his hand into his pants pocket.

 

The blood drained from from his face as time slowed down, a loud ringing filled his ears tuning out the teachers lecture. Heart racing eyes flicked around the room wondering if anybody noticed the look of absolute horror that flash across his face as he tried to compose himself. Looking down to at his lap he pulled out the 18mm Heavy-Duty Ratchet-Lock Utility Knife. Hands shaking he tried to think rational thoughts and -

 

"Gareth!"

 

Gareth jumped, knees coming up, rattling the desk loudly and startling everyone. Hands shooting out he shoved the knife into the desk...Silence. People stared as scilence filled the class from like a milky fog on a calm lake. Scared he looked to Mr. Ault; who stood by the board waiting. Unsure he could only squak out "y-yea Sur?" Voice cracking making him sound like a pubesent boy.

 

A few kids snickerd at that, and it slowly begain to build. "Y-yes Sur~!" a different boy said, tauntingly even mimicking the crack in Gareths voice. The classroom then erupted in laughter altoghether. The air of the small room quickly changing, feeling lighter and mabey even warmer. Gareth flushed looking down and rubbing the back of his neck with this hand as his heart beat began to slow down.

 

Confident no one saw the knife he looked to Mr.Ault, only to shrink back when he met angery eyes, burning with hostility.

 

Mr. Ault cleared his throat drawing everyones attention, the class sezing in its mischef. "Gareth! We will have no texting in class" the teacher stated his deep voice vibrating throuhout the class room as he walked towards Gareth. Stopping in front he stuck out his hand.

 

"Now Gareth, hand over your phone."

Chapter 3: Phone

Gareth swallowed, sweat trickling down his neck. Not way out he was with world closing around the boy; no way out. All thoughts stopping his mind going blank as he desperately reached for the knife in his desk-

 

Loud music blasted through the room, Gareth Jumped in surprise. The other students giggles and others looked away in pity. 'T-that's my ringtone!' Eyes wide in surprise he fished out his phone from this back pocket. 'Wait, I thought I'd left my phone at Ryans. Since when did...?' At a loss he gapes at the small touch phone.

 

Mr. Ault took that moment to swipe it, causing Gareth to refocus on the teacher. Looking down the middle aged man touched the screen stopping the loud music. Hold up the phone, he turned walking back towards the white board simply stating "Detention. Today at lunch, and you'll get this at the end of the year."

 

Not really caring Gareth ushered a "Yes sir."

 

"Now, on with class. We will be having no more interruptions". Mr.Ault said sure of himself.

Chapter 4: Hallways

Class quickly passed, relief flooding the boy's system as he still held into his school books. Thoughts kept rushing back to the potentially dangerous weapon hidden in the back on his jeans. Noise of other students echoed throughout the corridor. Carefree laughter and stressful whispers meshed together, creating a sickly sweet energy. Swallowing he gathered his thoughts and moved through the moving mass of his peers. Luckily, his locker wasn't all that far away, grouped together with the other sophomores they were the closest to the gym; Gareths next class. With one final nudge, he was freed from the mob now standing and in front of his locker. 'I need to get rid of this knife! And, having already just escaped suspension I'm not about to get into anymore trouble.'

5-16-27.

Opening his locker he shoved the books into the small enclosure. Pausing, he looked to the side, Smiling when he saw everyone already busy with their own lives. When he reached into his pants pocket grabbing for the knife only to see a familiar Chicago cubs t-shirt moving towards him. Panicked Gareth spun around hurriedly slamming the locker shut. Standing there with clenched fist he noticed just how sweaty his palms were. Taking a few deep breaths the boy braced myself before turning back to look up at his friend.

"Gareth! Turns out were having PE inside today, it's gonna be dodge ball! I'm gonna blow them away too! I mean I've been practicing my catching and I don't know, maybe I could apply it to this!" Estatic, Ryan rambled on about gym class already in this shorts. That's when the school bell rang throughout the school alerting the students of the start of their next class. Ryan grinned and turned walking to the Gym room, Gareth following from behind with the knife suddenly feeling 100 pound heavier in the boys jean pocket.

Classes seemed to crawl on as timed ticked slowly almost painfully so. Gareth was jumpy all day, and tried to avoid talking when it wasn't necessary. it was  7th period study hall when Ryan confronted the boy by his locker.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 04.04.2014

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To who ever reads this story.