𝙁𝙪𝙜𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 [𝙋𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙖𝙣]

②:③

Trouble Maker
Present day
Storybrooke

I awoke to the sound of glass breaking.

Last night, Emma and Mary Margaret went to their beds after hours of trying to convince them that I'm fine on the couch.

I had to remove a blanket that was loosely put over my body, which was not there when I went to sleep.

I then got up from the couch and looked into the kitchen to see Mary Margaret's feet poking out from the side of the counter.

"Need some help?" I ask, still a little groggy.

She pulls herself up off the floor and looks at me, "uh no, I got it handled. But thank you."

I give her a smile and nod in her direction.

There is something about her that makes me sad. Like I said yesterday, she's missing something in her life. Something important.

Emma runs down the steps and pulls me out of my thoughts, "Mary Margaret, I have to go, a John Doe was found just at the town line."

"Oh no, that's so sad," she begins, "I hope someone finds out who he is. His family is probably worried sick!"

"Be safe driving Brooklyn to school," Emma said, drawing my attention.

I snap my head in her direction, "do I really have to go to school?"

"Yep, and please don't be all 'I'll cut a bitch if she looks at me.'" Emma pleaded.

Something in me felt a jolt of sadness.

"So don't be my normal self?" I ask with my poker face.

"No," Mary Margaret butt in, "don't listen to Emma, be yourself. I'm sure you'll make friends in no time."

I look at Emma waiting for her to say something, but she avoids eye contact before saying, "There's a backpack with all the supplies you need in Mary Margaret classroom."

And with that, she left.

I get up and walk to the bathroom after Mary Margaret points me to all of my toiletries and clothes.

Once I'm done brushing my teeth, I showered, then I picked out an outfit: black ripped jeans with a gray tank top under a black and grey hoodie. And to top it all off, I put on my high top black and white vans.

Then Mary Margaret and I walked out the door to her car.

Mary Margaret drives off and asks, "I'm going to run into Granny's on the way there, do you want anything?"

"Who?"

She chuckles beside me, "Sorry, I forgot that you lived in the woods all your life. It's a diner, they serve food and coffee."

I smile, "Oh, I'm good thanks though."

"Ok," she looks at me with her peripheral vision, "your loss."

"Maybe we'll go for lunch or something one day." I add.

"That is a great idea, my friend."

I laugh as she pulls close to the curb. She then smiles at me, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

I nod as she gets out of the car and walks up to the door. And once the cost was clear I hop out and quickly walk to the small mini mart across the street.

I walked in the door and went to the counter since there was already no one there. I walk behind it and pick up a box of cigarettes and lighter.

I stick them in my pocket and walk out from behind the counter as I see Mary Margaret talking to someone by the door.

I immediately walk out the door and get back into Mary Margaret's car, pretending like nothing happened.

And just in time too because she came out holding her coffee in her hand, smiling like an idiot.

She hopped in her seat and set down her coffee, "I overheard some gossip."

"Oh boy," I chuckle at her excitement.

"Oh hush," she smiled and pulled the car onto the road, "so, the John Doe that was found is unconscious and no one has claimed him yet."

"Ooo."

She laughs loudly.

Mary Margaret is a special person. I could tell she felt bad for John Doe, although she didn't even know him. She is the sweetest creature that has ever walked in Storybrooke.

☾♥︎☽

As I walked to lunch, I could hear whispers about me.

All day people have been calling me 'Woods.' I have no idea how they know about my situation, but it's annoying.

I walk into the cafeteria and spot an open table, so I sit down and make myself comfortable. I haven't eaten all day, and I'm still not hungry.

"Woods!" I hear a low voice yell.

I look up and see a tall boy with moppy brown hair coming towards me.

"Here we go," I whisper to myself.

The boy walks up next to me and stops, "You hear me, Woods!?"

"No little baby Bieber, I didn't," I say looking up at him.

His face turned red with anger. Then, out of nowhere, my seat goes flying backwards. I hit the floor with a thud, landing on my back.

I look up to see the boy laugh, "not so tough now, are you, Woods!"

I look up at the boy and see red. Without hesitation, I walk up to him and punch him across the face.

He falls to the floor and I walk out of the lunch room and head for the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, I see blood start to trickle down the side of my mouth.

I sit in a stall, locking the door, and light a cigarette.