Lιɳҽ Wιƚԋσυƚ A Hσσƙ / 𝘢 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘟𝘪𝘢𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

1. Wicked grin, evil eyes

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𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍𝖊

I had hoped that this would've been in a different year.

Ofcourse, that is how I start every day. I had hoped today would've been different. I had hoped tomorrow would've been different.

First day of senior year, and I've already caused a fight.

He, this boy with teal streaks in his dark hair, throws a punch, and just barely misses my nose; I hiss an insult at him and throw a punch as well, which he dodges. Blood on my hands, blood on his, we've been going for a solid five minutes now and all sounds around me have blurred. It's the red and the beating of my heart in my ears that is left; the dull thud when I hit his face with my raw and sore knuckles, that I have slammed into one too many walls. And then, suddendly, the angry shouting, my body that is pulled backwards - I sink unto my knees and pray for death to come strike me down. My wrists ache. My throat feels sore. I feel the tears fill my eyes, but don't want to show the weakness they bring along with them, so keep my eyes directed at the floor. My body is trembling - I feel the panic rage through it, now that it's left without adrenaline - and scared I might lose control I fight back the anger, the rage, the sadness, until I feel that everything is safely locked away behind it's glass wall.

That's the only thing I can do. Build glass walls, and only glance at them once, because if I let those emotions get to me, there will be no "me" left.

"STOP CRYING!!!" she would scream at him, and terrified of her, the woman he was supposed to call 'mother', he took a step back, and another one, until his back was pressed against the wall and he could do nothing but let her harsh words flow over him. He would drown in them, but it was the only water she'd give his young and thirsty lips to drink. Negative attention was also attention, after all. She'd tell him to man up, if he wanted to be a boy so bad - and he'd often cry himself to sleep until she figured out about that too. The beatings weren't even the worst. It was the humiliation, the moments she'd act like he didn't exist, the-

"SCARAMOUCHE?!"

The loud voice snaps me back to reality, and I shake off the memory that haunts my thoughts once again. I look up to see a teacher (don't ask me the name because I can't be bothered to remember), who looks at me, half in anger and half in concern.

"That's the fifth time I called your name." He tells me, and I glare at him, slowly getting up from the ground and brushing the dust off my clothes. "I'm not a fucking dog." I tell him, and bring a hand up to my face. As far as I can feel, nothing is wrong. He sighs, shaking his head. "Principals office, both of you." The boy with teal hair glares at me, and I fight the urge to slam my fist into a wall. Mother will be called again. Just wonderful.

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I look across the room. It's been half an hour since I got here, and our parents were called, like, five to ten minutes ago. I wonder if mother will show up herself or send that pink-haired bitch again.

Next to me, the other guy is clenching his hands into fists and releasing them again, a constant loop that he's been doing for the past 30 minutes. Honestly, it's annoying the shit out of me, but with the principal there, there isn't really anything I can do. Besides, I have my own problems to deal with, like the panic attack that I'm repressing.

Mother is gonna be so dissapointed, and I shouldn't care, but I do. Usually, I'd distract myself, but I can't really do that right now because that idiot of a principal is still talking to me. I wish I could just tell him to shut up, but I can't, because I'll get suspended again. That will only cause me more trouble. I mean, I've been through ten high schools. I don't even remember half of them - my memory just blurs. I don't really get attached because I'll be gone within the year. I never learn names and usually don't remember the faces either - it's just this small group of friends thats different.

A knock on the door snaps me back to reality, and I look up when a tall man walks into the room, seeming concerned as he walks up to the male beside me.
"Xiao, are you alright? Did you get hurt?" The man kneels in front of the boy, and I feel envy wash over me like a wave, but I ignore it.
The male nods, and the man seems relieved, before frowning. "Xiao, weren't you told to stop picking fights?" Xiao, apparently, sighs. "I'm sorry. He got on my nerves." The tall man sighs. "What did they teach you at anger management?"

Anger management????

I start to laugh, earning a confused and an irritated look (you can guess which one from who). "You were send to anger management?!" For some reason, I can't stop laughing, even though it's not funny. Mother wouldn't have even THOUGHT about sending me to anger management. "And what is wrong with that?!" Xiao gets up, angry, but is quickly ushered to sit back down by his father. I think. Imagine having one. We sit in silence then for a bit more.

And then, suddendly, the woman I despise most in my entire life, but also the woman that is the reason I live in the first place. 

I want to mumble a "hi", but she just starts screaming at me.

"FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, YOU USELESS PIECE OF- THE FIRST FUCKING DAY. CAN'T I GET ONE NORMAL DAY? ONE DAY, KUNIKUZUSHI, BUT NOOOOO, EVEN THAT IS TOO MUCH, BECAUSE YOU WANT THE ATTENTION AGAIN?! ARE YOU FEELING 'IGNORED' AGAIN?" 

I sigh. "Hello to you as well. No need to yell like that." 

She looks at the principal, and I feel my heart drop with her next words. 

"Can I talk to he-... him alone for a moment?"

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