Klance One Shots

I could've been there

⚠️this chapter will contain homophobia, suicidal thoughts, language, and suicide. If u r sensitive to these topics please don't read. Or do if ur a rebel like me and do what ur told not to.⚠️
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-Lance's POV-

There's this kid... He's quiet. Never speaks in class, sits alone at lunch, walks to and from school everyday, alone.

He always looks just totally run out. Eye bags under his eyes, messy hair, clothes that look like he saw and just threw on.

I've never actually talked to him. All I know is his name is Keith. He has raven black hair in the style of a mullet, and he always wears the same sweat shirt and decently skinny skinny jeans every single day. It makes me wonder if he has any other clothes.

He's always sits in the back of his classes, silent. Always looking like he's spaced out. He brings a sketch book everywhere with him and draws in it when we're supposed to be studying.

He never looks up... always looking down.

There have been... rumors going around about him. Rumors saying he's gay. Or that he fucked some boy that goes to this school... always a different boy.

That rumor started maybe 4 months ago, when we became Juniors in high school.

Ever since then he's been attacked... Bullied!

Being shoved to the ground and kicked or punched on his torso or face. He never fights back.

It's often during passing time or before school. Our lockers aren't too far from each other... but I often find myself not being able to move and help him. I just, stand there. Watching him bleed or bruised EVERYWHERE!

The one thing I've noticed when this stuff happens is that he clutches his satchel where he stores his sketchbook and pens close to his chest, almost as if he will protect that satchel even if it meant it costing his life.

Jocks will yell his name and call him things like "f*ggot" and the cheerleaders will laugh as they walk away.

It's not often now to see him with out bruised cheeks, a black eye, or a split lip.

Yet he never goes to a teacher. He always stays on the floor, clutching his satchel until those people leave. Then he'll just get up and walk off like nothing happened.

Honestly the staff members at this school suck. The principal is almost never around, and the teachers don't even bother to ask about his injuries.

Of course other students notice as well, but just like me... it seems like we're all paralyzed to do anything.

That is, until one day when the normal beat up took place in the same hall as every week.

Something inside me decided to wake up and make me walk over to Keith and reach out my hand for him.

He looked up at my hand, still clutching his satchel, and then directly into my eyes.

He hesitated to grab my hand, but eventually he did and I pulled him up. It was the end of the day and I already had my stuff together.