A Boy In An All Girls School

Chapter 8: the voice

Atlas woke up on Wednesday, he dragged himself out of bed and grabbed the skirt he was forced to wear.

He got into the shower and began to wash his hair, he avoided looking at his body, at his wrists, at his face, he was disgusted by myself.

"Baby hippo" he repeated under his breath as he finished washing his hair and stepped out of the shower

He slid on the ugly black skirt that was far too short for his body, and the red sweater vest that made him look fat.

A voice echoed in his head again

Fat ass

Lose some weight

Drop a few pounds

Disgusting pig

PIGGY

The voice in his head got even louder

FAT WHORE

LUMP

LARD ASS

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He felt tears stinging in his eyes as he put his hands over his ears

"Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!"

PUDGY
FATSO
PORKY

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD"

He felt tears beginning to pour down his cheeks, his head was spinning in circles as her voice echoed louder and louder in his mind and he could never seem to make it stop.

His hands balled into fists at his side until he couldn't contain himself anymore, he threw his hand against the glass mirror, he watched as a large crack appeared along it, and the only thing he could see was himself.

The anger in his eyes

The tears on his cheeks

And who he had become.

He looked away, wiping the tears from his eyes as he grabbed his jacket and headphones, he walked out of the bathroom and sighed as saw Alice, he felt his heart beating in his chest

"Atlas! I made breakfast"

She had a happy go-lucky smile plastered on her face as she held a plate of breakfast, avocado toast with a side of fruit and bacon, she held the plate towards him, it smelled so good.

He smiled as he put his hand out towards the plate

"Fatass"

Suddenly he pulled his hand away and shook his head, sliding his hand back into his pocket

"I'm not hungry, sorry"

He gave a weak smile and before she could say another word he grabbed his bag and left, as he walked the nearly empty halls, all he could focus on was his stomach growling. He hadn't eaten since yesterday morning and he was starting to feel like shit.

He walked into his first class, and saw a group of girls all sitting together, but he couldn't care less than he already did.

He took his usual seat and put his head down, ignoring everyone around him, as he did everyday, and as he would continue to do.

The day had passed quickly and it was already time for lunch, he was starving, his stomach was aching and he couldn't focus on anything else.

He was zoned out trying to decide if he was hungry enough to eat or not when a loud, annoying, high pitched voice appeared in his head

"You're really gonna keep eating?"

He shook his head and walked past the lunchroom, he ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Lately it felt like all he did was obsess over his body.

He felt a heavy weight on his shoulders as he grabbed a blade from his bag, he took a deep breath, and slowly he pressed the blade against his skin.

He felt the stinging pain on his wrist as he watched a large wound begin to form, he knew he was pathetic for doing it, but he didn't know what else to do.

He did it again.

And again.

And again.

His wrists were now covered in large wounds, blood trickling down his forearm, down his wrist, along his fingertips, and into the white marble floor.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes fixed on his bloody wrist, he turned on the sink and out his hand under it, watching as the blood turned the water to a dark red color and filled the sink.

"You deserved it"