I'm crazy. I know you think I might not be, You will find out soon enough... soon engough...
song: 'Cover Up' by Trapt
He stared upon the other students with eyes of an abyess. He sought after their crys of pain, for the pain they caused him was of the worst.
He would sit there reading his book of the week, usally an Anne Rice or Stephen King, that sometimes gave him ideas of true fear. He would look up at the aprotching assholes that came his way, always more than one, no one would say anything. He knew what they would say to him 'Look at lil' Faggoty Ann, reading, barring his nose into the book. To scarred of us to say anything.' then they would take the book and throw it across the room. He would stare to them of his blank abyess like eyes. they would laugh and walk away. he would then gather his things then look upon the book that had been thrown across the floor.
He always thought of what their screams would sound like when he brought pain upon them. A smile apeared on his face. Will they laugh then, he thought. He walked out of the room not caring if the teacher caught him on the way out. He would go to the counsler's office to wait for the day to end, and conitue with his book. His current adventure into the author's mind intreged him. The counsler saw him sitting there, she called him into the room.
"Aren't you 'posed to be in the classroom learning, Mr. Bruce?" he would be looking into his lap, at the scars on his wrist. The scars were screaming to be re-opened.
"Yes but I wanted to come and viset you mother." his mother looked upon him with care, stareing at his cut mark on his face that was ozeing a little. "I know you said you had beter things to do than babysit me but I'm getting tired waiting for my... I mean, waiting to talk to you." he had almost said, 'waiting for this hel to end' but stoped himself.
"I know that you're having a hard time here, but it's a new place. They'll start likeing you soon enough." she knew of the beatings he got, she was waiting for him to stand up for himself. "... I know that you miss him. I do too, I just want..." she was trying to hold back the tears, "... want to have him back. You know that right?" she grabbed over the table and grabbed for his arm. "You really need to stop re-opening healing wounds, son, it's not good for you. I know that this is also a rough time to get though, but we'll make it, I promise you." she pulled on a half-hearted smile.
"I try to let the wounds heal, mom, but they scream to be re-opened. Everyday they break me down." she knew that he was talking of the bullying, "They cause me pain, then I have to relese it. It's not that it doesn't hurt me even more. It's how I feel as they do it. I just want to scream."
"Son, I know how you feel, I'm in the same situation." the students came in and went out hourly. All having problems either at home, or at school. "You don't have to keep re-opening the same scars as they buldge. let them buldge, it'll go back down." she got a tissue out of the box on her desk and wiped at the ozeing cut mark. "You need to take care of that cut there."
"I know, mother, I will when we get home." he scratched his wrist, a cut came open again.
"Son, hows your reading going?" she had notesed the bleeding.
"Good, mother."
"The writting?" he pulled the shirt sleeve down, and pulled a peice of paper out of his binder.
"It's a poem." it read, For tho the sky is blue, at night it is black, blacker than the eye of a storm. Even if the storm is calm, the black is soon to arise from it. As the blood corses though the viens of animals, few flows though the fingers of thier own hand, as the oxygen hits the fresh blood, turning it red. The pain then arises. For tho the blue of sky. The storm still runs. The blood turns red.
A tear ran down her eye. "This is really good."
"Thanks, it would of been longer but my pencil was taken from me."
"Is there something you want to tell me, son?" she wiped her tear away with her sleeve.
"No, mom, I'm fine." just great, he wanted to add. To be persice he had been great through: being pushed into the urinal, hiting his head on the flusher. Just great though, getting pushed into his locker door. Just great, getting pushed into the janator's closet, giving a bj to his gym teacher. He could not do a thing about it, nither could his mother, his dad could've.
He waited for his mother to respond, but the razor blade in his pocket did instead. He jumped.
"Are you sure, I am the councler you know?"
"Yes, mom, I'm just fine." his shirt sleeve was now soaked blood. He could still taste cum in his mouth from earlyer. He looked at his mother's eyes, he saw care and tears almost breaking out of her eyes.
2
song: 'Where Will You Go' Evanescence
When they got home he went to his bed and cryed into the pillow. He missed his girlfrend back in Maine. He missed his friends too. After he finished crying he went to the bathroom and striped off his clothing: his blood soaked Motley Crue shirt, his I <3 boobies braclet, his 100 pocket black jeans, and his black and white converce. He turned on the shower, turned on stright hot water. He looked in the mirror, opened the door and got out his heavy-duty Scope, and rinced his mouth. He walked over to the shower and turned the cold on a little then stepped in. He looked at his wrist. He got out his new Axe shampoo and covered his hair. His arm stung as the soap got in the cut.
When he got out, he looked in the mirror again. He flipped his long-ish black hair out of his blue eyes. He laughed at his scar on his face. He put on his pjs and got a notebook out, the on he planed things in. He started on a new page, he called it The Game...
His mom called for him to eat dinner. He closed the notebook. He jogged into the kicthen, grabbed the plates and walked into the dinning room. He set them next to each other, then fixed a glass of Coke. He sat down with his mother to eat Hambuger Helper. Then told her goodnight. He then went to bed.
A/N: So what do you think? Did I leave with a bang? Tell me if I should continue. Critec, tell me what you thought, READ, VOTE, COMMENT, FAN, LOVE ME?
