swing set {joshler}

two- common motivation

His alarm clock was loud and Josh groaned angrily at the thought of school. He winced as he peeled himself from his blankets, the cold air hitting him rather brutally. He forgot to close his window again, but the window sill looked really nice against the sun and humidity that had accumulated over the night.

He dressed himself in clothes that made his family turn a blind eye at his existence: black skinny jeans, red vans, a white t-shirt and a sweater to cover up his dirty dirty crimes. He looked in the bathroom mirror and attempted to fix the pink hair that flew from side to side. A little bit of gel here and a little bit more and screw this, he put on his favourite snapback and left the bathroom.

In his kitchen, stood his mother and father arguing over burnt toast and his sister screaming through her cell phone. Josh rolled his eyes at the familiar sight and fed his cat, before grabbing a carrot muffin for himself. No one bothered to notice him grab his red backpack and head out the door, which was not a surprise for him. Nothing he wasn't used to.

Josh wore his earbuds deep inside his ear during the painful walk to school. It was a living nightmare to even be near that many people. He liked being alone, in fact, his only friend was Nixon. They'd been best friends for years now, other than that he was a complete nobody. This should probably bother him but he was too far gone to care.

When he walked through the halls, countless people bumped into him as though he was invisible; yet again, he couldn't find the energy nor the motivation to care.

"Hey, faggot!"

Shit, he thought and shook impulsively as a group of guys approached him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Josh scanned the gang: they were all pretty buffed with the exception of one skinny looking kid in a black hoodie with headphones in his ears. If Josh thought he was out of place, it was nothing compare to this kid in this moment.

They pushed him against a metal locker, his head of pink hair hitting it roughly. Josh winced as one of the guys pinned him, arm pushing on his neck and watched another grab his bag and emptying it on the floor of the empty hallway. They dug through his stuff, taking his notebooks and ripping the pages out. Every time he tried to move, the guy pinning him would push harder.

The skinny kid bent down and grabbed Josh's hardcover notebook, opening it and reading. Of course, putting his journal in his bag might not have been the best hiding spot. He'd forgotten to take it out and now his entire life was about to be destroyed.

The kid kept flipping pages and the others kept ripping his homework while he was still pinned to the locker. The bell rang and the guy that held him against the locker jammed his fist in his gut and pulled away, running with the others. Josh caught a glimpse of the skinny boy slipping his journal in his back pack and running away.

What the fuck was he gonna do with that? Josh was paranoid and he couldn't breathe but it didn't matter right now, he had to pick his stuff up and hurry to class because if he's late again, it's another detention.

So, he runs. That's what he does best, running away.