Suitcases POV
I got on the bus, taking a seat and looking out the window at the sea of classmates all going home. Most of me was glad that I finally stood up for myself and Balloon, but I couldn't help but feel bad, dirty, like I was contaminated. I tried to keep my mind off of it but everyone was staring at me. I didn't like it at all. I heard all of the whispers, and it made me want to cry. Eventually, the bus started moving. The streets of the town weren't very busy, but I saw someone standing on top of a building. They looked familiar, but I blinked, and they were gone. I shrugged it off.
I arrived home, opening the door. Mom had gotten a job, so I was alone. I set my backpack down by a small cabinet. I paused, and looked back at it. I see a picture of me and my old family, and I sigh, picking it up. I remember back then. I miss them, but they...
"Goddammit.." I say under my breath. I put the photo down, and climb up the stairs to my room. I flop down onto the bed, trying to process what had happened that day. I hear the whispers.
You didn't fix anything
You failed him
You embarrassed yourself
You don't have a chance
You aren't important
Why do they always come back...