Blue (Destiel Highschool AU)

Chapter 2

I don't really remember the walk home. I was just numb. I unlocked my house and first picked up the house phone and called my school. I pretended to be my father and told them I was off sick. It was easy, they barely questioned it.

Then I headed up to my bedroom. I switched on my laptop and logged into facebook. The first thing I was greeted with was a photograph on my locker from a boy in tenth grade underneath was the caption "is this true!?".

The further I scrolled the more photos I found, some with silly captions or comments, some with rude ones. I found Hannah's page and checked it. She hadn't posted anything since before the party. For some reason her silence was more unnerving than all of these people. I'm not saying they weren't bad, because they were, really bad. But the idea that I'd actually hurt Hannah, hurt me more than the comments on my locker.

After ten minutes I couldn't take it anymore and slammed my computer shut. Everything hurt, my legs, my head, my lungs. But my mind was the worst. Worse than any other pain I've ever experienced. And so I did what I always did in situations like this. I created more pain to stop the one in my brain.

I walked over to my bedside table drawer and pulled out the blade. Up until that point I'd been five months clean. Five whole months of hard work came crashing down in one afternoon as I slid the blade's sharp edge across my wrist. I cut multiple times within that hour, and deep too, deeper than I ever had before.

After a while I began to feel light headed and went down to the kitchen. I wrapped my wrists in thin bandages from the cupboard then covered them with my usual wristbands. I went back upstairs and collapsed onto my bed. I fell asleep almost immediately exhaustion taking over me.

Five whole hours passed until I was woken by the sound of my parents arriving home. I grabbed some books and spread them across my desk to give the impression I'd been doing homework. I pulled down the sleeves of my sweater and sat up rigidly as I heard the footsteps approaching my door.

My mother knocked then opened the door. Despite already calling in sick a little part of me expected her to ask why I bunked school today. She didn't. "Castiel, dinner will be in about half an hour," she paused and glanced at the books on the desk. "Good to see you're working hard, you'll need it. This year is very important."

I nodded weakly. My mother was obsessed with me doing extremely well at school. She flashed me a wide smile but there was a cold undertone to it, her blond hair bobbing as she left the room. There was always something so fake about her, her appearance, the way she spoke, walked, everything. She almost seemed plastic. 

I barely spoke at supper, my father said grace. He and my mother spoke about their day, even at home I was invisible. In my mind I was going over what to do about school. I couldn't go back there. I left the table early saying I wasn't feeling well, saying I was ill was probably my best option at the moment.

The next morning I stumbled downstairs complaining about a headache and feeling sick. My father pressed his big hand against my head. It was funny I didn't really look anything like either of my parents. My mother had blond hair nothing like mine, I did however share her blue eyes. My father was a very tall well built man with dark eyes. He had hints of dark hair like mine but it was mostly grey now, he put it down to stress but I preferred the term old. In case you haven't noticed by now, I didn't have a very good relationship with my parents. When I was younger, I'd fight their strict rules and views but as I got older, I just didn't see the point.

"You seem fine boy, you can survive a little school." He said. I should've known I wouldn't be able to fool him. "I can give you a lift though if you'd rather not walk, I have to head that way anyway." He said blankly. It was as if he knew I wanted to bunk. Maybe he did.