We Are the Freaks

Chapter One

TW: Suggested Alcohol abuse, Bullying (physical and verbal), Self depreciating, Physical and Verbal Abuse, small undescriptive panic attack, vomiting.

Virgil sat at his desk, waiting for the bell to ring. As soon as the bell rang, he would bolt out of there before anyone else. He had decided to bring everything that he'd need at home with him to his last class today, so that he wouldn't have to stop at his locker for anything and have a chance to be caught off guard by his bullies. 

He didn't really care about that "the bell doesn't dismiss you, I dismiss you" bullshit the teachers spout. 

Like he promised himself, Virgil jumped out of his seat as soon as he heard the bell go off and he ran down the halls as fast as he could.

Virgil was almost to the front doors. He had a small bit of hope. Just a little bit. But that little hope he had went away when he saw who was smoking by the entrance. 3 people he knew all too well. Sam Garden, Logan Strawsburg, and Penny Kin. Just before Virgil was able to turn around to find a different exit, the 3 saw him and smiled together. 

After dropping their cigarettes and putting them out their shoes, they strutted over to Virgil.

"Hellllllooooooo~ pumpkin!" Penny sing songed. She called everyone pumpkin for unknown reasons.

"Yo Virgie, you wanna play a game?" Sam asked.

"No, not really. I don't like playing games with ugly ass hoes." Virgil wasn't lying about the ugly part. Sam looked like a pig, Penny looked like she was raised in the forest for half her life and, well, even Virgil could admit that Logan looked half decent, unlike his little comrades.

"Emo nightmare." Penny sneered at Virgil's insult. Penny opened her mouth to say more but before she could do that, Virgil slipped through them and ran for the door. Before he could get a good momentum going with his heavy backpack lugging behind him, he felt someone grab the backpack by the handle and pull him back. The force pulling him back combined with the weight of the backpack against his frail body resulted in Virgil lying on his back, looking up at Logan in freight.

Logan smiled smugly at Virgil. He crouched down and grabbed Virgil by the hair, tugging his head up. Virgil gasped in pain and instinctively grabbed Logan's wrist. He dug his long, jagged nails into his wrist until Logan finally let go in a yelp of pain.

"Fucking brat-" but before Logan could finish his thoughts, Virgil was out the door and running towards home.

Virgil got home in record timing. Though home wasn't his favorite place to be, it would be good for a while before his dad got home a few hours later, doing who the hell knows what before that. So he took that chance to panic. 

Virgil fell to the floor, still out of breath. Tears he had held in now fell freely and his already labored breath started coming in short gasps. He fell into a short panic attack before it finally lessened into a panting Virgil. Tear streaks stained his face but no more tears fell as he got off the ground and to the sink to get some water for his parched throat.

What did I do wrong? Was all Virgil could think while he chugged the water and threw the plastic cup into the garbage. He jogged up the stairs and went into his room, deciding he wasn't hungry enough to eat anything at the moment. Virgil got started on his homework, of which was all easy enough, and lied down in his small, stiff bed. He put on his headphones, plugged them into his phone and closed his eyes, hoping for a rest before the worst time of night.

Virgil hadn't gotten a minute of sleep before he heard the door downstairs slam closed and the sound of an empty glass bottle thrown across the room. Virgil flinched at the sudden crack of glass against wood and waited for the inevitable.

"VIRGIL, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW." he heard. Virgil quickly got up and out of bed, flinging his headphones off and ran downstairs, knowing better than to keep his dad waiting.

"Welcome home, sir." Virgil said when he saw his father glaring at him from across the room, holding a sheet of paper. The only thing now separating Virgil from the broken bottle in his father's hand was the kitchen table. He winced at the thought of what could possibly be wrong this time. 

"What is this shit?" His father asked, crumbling up the paper and throwing it at his son. Virgil picked it up and quickly uncrumbled it, staring it up and down before finally understanding why he was angrier than usual. It was the bill for the house that Virgil had yet to pay.

"S- sorry, father, I haven't gotten the money to pay for it yet. I'm sure I will have enough by the next payche-" he was cut off by another empty bottle shattering right behind his head.

Virgil shuddered, chancing a glance up at his father, he was greeted with a fiery rage and another bottle ready to be thrown. Seriously, how many of those does he have?! The only reason he hasn't been hit yet is because his father is drunk. His aim will be off, no doubt but that doesn't take away the chance of him being hit in the head.

"THAT ISN'T SOON ENOUGH! WE'LL BE LIVING ON THE STREETS IF YOU DON'T PAY THE DAMN BILLS!" 

Virgil knew he had been paying the bills ever since he was able to get a job. He knew it was the average. He knew his father would never chip in. And he knew he should never ever mention these. He didn't mean to. But at the moment, he had felt something he had never originally even dared to feel. It was just so.... aggravating.

In a blind rage, Virgil glared right back at his father. And did something so stupid. So, so fucking stupid. But it felt so so nice.

"PAY YOUR OWN FUCKING BILLS FOR ONCE. YOU HAVE THE MONEY, YOU HAVE THE TIME. JUST LEAVE ME OUT OF IT. NOT A SINGLE 16 YEAR OLD IN MY SCHOOL HAS TO PAY THE DAMN BILLS SO I DON'T SEE WHY I SHOULD HAVE TO. GO TO HELL." His father looked at him in surprise, relaxing his body slightly. This lasted a few seconds before the rage had found its way back to his eyes and he threw the bottle. Before Virgil could react, he felt a piercing pain go through his shoulder.

He yelped in pain, tears pricking his eyes. He stumbled back slightly and gripped his shoulder, feeling warm liquid flooding onto his hand and down his arm.

"You're good for nothing else. You mine as well make use of your sad and pathetic life." He whispered. It sent a shiver up Virgil's spine and he stepped back with a whimper. 

"S- sorry, s- sir. That was st- stupid of m- me. I- I don't k- know wh- what's wrong with me." Before Virgil could continue, his father stomped around the kitchen table quickly and punched him in the throat. Virgil wheezed and started gasping for air as his knees gave below him. His body lurched forward and he vomited the little food he had eaten that day. 

"Disgusting emo. What did I say about stuttering? Children do that. Now clean that up and go to bed before I do anything else. I've had a long day so consider yourself lucky." Virgil still couldn't speak so he merely nodded his head weakly and made a sound of agreement. His dad stormed upstairs. When Virgil hear him slam his door shut, only then did he get up off the ground. Tears streamed down his face.

His dad was right, he should consider himself lucky. After his little outburst, he expected himself to at least be left half conscious and unable to move. Before Virgil cleaned up his mess, he went into the bathroom to find his first aid kit. He got out some of his stitching supplies and bandages. He quickly stitched and wrapped up his wound and got to cleaning the vomit.

Nothing was getting better anytime soon.