I wake up in a rush, and hurry into clothes. Instead of teasing my hair, I wear a beanie over it, making sure a good amount of my hair is covering one of my eyes, and half of the other. Then, I get my book bag, and practically run out, only to halt, and my heart stop.
Snow has covered everywhere. Overnight, it must have been a snowstorm or something. But I guess this is the first time it's finally really snowed.
I pick up a chunk from the ground and hold it in my bare hand, watching as it melts and slips between my pale fingers.
Winter is my favorite time of the year. It's cold and numb. And it has a wonderful smell, along with this certain beautiful silence.
I continue on my way to school, feeling a bit bashful from my poem. When I make it through the doors to my locker, a few people cast me quick looks , but I ignore them, and get what I need out before securing my lock and heading to my Home Room.
I plop in my usual seat, with Bianca sitting eagerly in front of me, like the little devil she is. She's petite, with dyed, bloody-red hair, huge grey eyes, and an attitude most would rather not provoke. Already, I can read her like an open book, but mostly because she's not afraid to show her personality. She's straight up most of the time, but even she has a bit of modesty.
"For some reason, I thought you wouldn't come today, but I didn't doubt. And look, you're here." She smiles.
I look at her and shake my head."Please, it's a prison at my home, it's prison here, but I'd rather be here than anywhere else, surprisingly."
She squints and bites her lip. "Why?"
I shrug. "Aren't all houses like that?" I know I'm distracting her now, but to get her mind off what I meant.
"Um.....okay..." She looks at me one more time before turning around right when the teacher walks through. It's like she's programmed to know these certain things.
To say that keeping her mind off that stupid slip up I made in first hour was working, would be an understatement. It was like she was my own personal stalker now, she would not leave me alone, she would bicker at me, and demand an answer. But I admired the fact that she has not begged yet, or simply asked. She didn't even try to be innocent and cute for an answer, she demanded it like a fiery lion, and it was to be admired by me.
"Just drop it. I'm not budging." I say reluctantly, trying to remember how many times I refused to answer today. Definitely more than eighty times.
"Because I care." She says simply.
I sigh and look her dead in the eye. "That's what they all say."
The rest of lunch is silent. I've obviously shut her up. Soon, it's time to be released from school, and I walk home alone for once, watching my breath, as I exhale, come out in puffs of what would be considered smoke.
As I walk through the woods instead of the sidewalk, I stare at the trees, bear without leaves, which are decomposing right beneath the snow.
And old memory of my mother helping me make a fort in the snow surfaces through my subconscious, and I begin to feel rage fill me. Everything was ruined because of the parasites. I live Hell because of such a microscopic creature that can easily cause pain and misery.
Without thinking, I pick up snow, and, like a child, I hurl it at a tree, letting out a furious cry. Then I stomp towards the tree, and with my clenched my fist, I punch it repeatedly, not caring about the damage it causes to my vulnerable, soft knuckles. Like a crazy person, I kick the tree, and fall into the snow.
Bewildered, I blink a few times and simply sit there, literally freezing my ass off, then, I thrash and scream loudly.
"WHY!? HUH!? WHY ME!? WHY DID YOU CHOSE ME!? IT'S NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR! YOU ALL LEFT ME! YOU LEFT ME!" I shout angrily. I feel something warm dribble down my cheeks, and my bloody, injured hands touch the wet pouring down my.
A small, horrible sound escapes my mouth, and I feel my eyes widen in shock. Soon enough, I'm silently wailing like a pathetic animal. I curl up and cry as quiet as I can, not wanting anyone to hear how a worthless boy cries in the woods.
When tears could no longer flow, I keen a few minutes before becoming completely silent.
My body becomes numb, meaning the cold is too much for my body, and hypothermia is close.
Whatever. I can die here. It's better than dying at Jim's hands.
But just as I think that, I hear teenagers, not far from where I lay, come in my direction.
I clumsily stand up, and stumble out of the woods like a drunk. A few struggles, and I make it to my house. I sniff a few times, and turn the handle with my badly shaking hand, to open the door.
"Oh, look, it's-" Jim replies, just as I quickly cover my face so he couldn't see the damp tears, and smeared eyeliner.
"Well, well, looks like Krystle is gonna cry me a river tonight." He says, triumph in his voice.
I make my miserable way into the house. "Shut up. Leave me alone."
"Oh, but the fun is just about to begin, Krystle."
YOU ARE READING
I'm With Emo Boy [ Boyxboy ]Teen Fiction
His name is Krystle, and he lives with his uncle and two loving cousins when his parents die from the Single-Celled killer. It's a nasty parasite in unfiltered water that eats away at the brain. However, when he moved with his uncle at a young age...