The New Boy

Chapter one

I sigh and roll over, checking my alarm clock after another sleepless night.

"5:45." I mutter to myself and force myself to sit up on my bed. I grab my phone that's charging on the nightstand next to me and scroll through the hateful messages. I don't have the courage to read through them so I delete them. I sigh and stand up, walking over to the bathroom that is in the room.

Before I do anything, I take my medication. It's more to make sure I don't have a mental breakdown or panic attack in school.

I look at myself in the mirror and place my hands on the sink, leaning on it. I let out a quiet sigh in disgust. I look down at my hands and arms. Small buries lead down my arms along with the long cuts along my wrists. I've been struggling with self harm for about 5 years now. I snap out of my thoughts and wash my face off with water, removing all of the old makeup.

I put on concealer, eyeshadow, liquid eyeliner on the top of my eye, pencil eyeliner on the bottom of my eyes, and mascara on my top and bottom lashes. I step back to look at myself. I'm still not happy with what I see looking back at me but it's better. I take the brush that is on the shelf next to the sink and I comb through my hair. I think about straightening it but I know I don't have the energy. My 6:30 alarm goes off and I walk out to shut it off. I turn it off and slowly take off my shirt and sweatpants. I slip on skin tight skinny jeans and a black tank top. I slip on a thin grey sweater over top of my tank top.

I know I have to leave early if I want to be there by 7:50. I slip on socks and plain black vans with white sides and laces. I grab my black hoodie and slide it over my head careful not to mess up my hair or makeup.

A strike of dizziness hits me and I quickly sit down. I take a deep breath, knowing that I haven't eaten in over five days. I know I'll eat a little today at lunch, I can't risk passing out in class. I look around for my book bag and I grab the ripped book bag that is sitting on the couch. I quickly run back into the bedroom and grab my phone that is laying on the bed. I grab my keys and walkout, locking the door behind me.

I shove the keys in my pocket and start to walk. As I walk I dig in my book bag for my headphones. I pull them out and plug them into my phone. I put one in my ear and leave the other one out to listen for cars. I flip my hood up over my head and I look down at my phone, deciding to play 'No Pity For A Coward,' by Suicide Silence. I smile and lightly tap my finger on my leg to the beat of the music. I see something fly past me and I hear laughing.

"Fag!" one of the popular jocks named Brady yells out of a truck window. No shock to see that he is in the truck with at least half of the football team, I can only tell it's them by their laughter which I hear too often. I look over to see a cup with a soda leaking out. I'm thankful it missed me. I take a deep breath and try to ignore the negitive thoughts running through my head but they are too power full. I keep walking and sigh.