"Conner!" Conner's mother snapped at him while he was cutting himself with the sharp knife he saved secretly in his room.
"What the fuck do you want, Mom?"
A loud smack is heard across the room.
"That is no way to talk the woman who birthed you, little boy!", she yelled at him.
"I'm not your little boy anymore, I'm 15 already!!", Conner snapped back at her.
"Whatever."
"Explain to me why the fuck you were cutting yourself."
"Because it felt good, now stop harassing me and get the fuck out!"
"Fine!"
"Stay in here forever for all I give!"
Conner watched as she stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
He closes the curtains that revealed the 3 p.m. afternoon sunlight.
He chucks the knife into his open closet, and curls up under the blanket on his bed.
"Bastards. All of you. None of you can understand me."
***************
The nexy day, Conner walks to his locker in school.
He looks in mirror he has in his locker, showing his pale white skin, grey eyes, long dark hair that pratically blinded him, and the scars on his face he recieved as child from his abusive father who was long gone.
"Another shitty day in this hell hole I call life", Conner muttuered.
He looked down at what he was wearing. He at least cared that he didn't look like a bum.
A grey hoodie hoodie with a white T-shirt under, blue denim jeans, and some black Nikes.
"At least I don't look like shit, though I feel like shit everyday."
"RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!"
The bell rang, alerting Conner to go to class already. He jogged swiftly to his first period, as he read the sign next to the door.
"9th Grade AP Psychology."
As he grabbed the door handle, the door burst open and slams him in the face.
"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" a feminine voice yelped.
Conner found it strange.
No females never associated with him even to give him sympathy.
But she didn't ignore him.
She actually cared.
"Just help me off the floor dumbass", Conner snapped.
He feels a soft, silky, hand grab his and pull him up.
He looks up, and sees the one who helped him.
It was a girl, with big brown eyes, that shined like the sunshine off the metal of a car. Her hair was a deep deep black, with a pretty pink flower fixiated in the area just before her bangs. She had tanned skin, and was wearing a long pink dress, with several beautiful flower designs running across the dress, along with red Toms®.
"Hello?"
Conner suddenly looked up.
"You've been staring at me for five minutes."
"Oh."
"Sorry."
His heart skipped a beat.
Normally, he would have just picked up his things and left her be.
But something about her mesmerized him.
"Hi."
"My name's Cecelia!"
"I can sense the attention seeking from her", Conner thought.
"I'm so sorry I hit you with the door, but it seems that you were having fun looking at my body..." Cecelia said shyly.
"S-Shut the fuck up! I just wanted to see the retard who hit me!" he snapped abruptly.
"Are you implying that I don't have a nice body?!"
"No! What the hell?!"
"Oh."
"Thank you."
"Why exactly are thanking me?"
"You basically just said I'm beautiful."
Conner blushed. His heart beated faster.
"Whatever."
They both walked into class, and when he sat down, she sat in the seat next to him.
"Why are you here?"
He didn't like company.
"Come to think of it, I have never seen you before."
"Oh. I just transferred here from New York."
"So far Michigan has been a nice place."
"That explains why the once only empty desk is now full."
"Do you have a problem?"
"Yes. Leave", Conner said quickly.
"I'm sitting here for a reason--can you fucking look at me when we talk!?", Cecelia suddenly snapped.
He realized he was staring at the clock at the top of the room, waiting for class to start.
"1 minute."
"Geez I swear you have the eyes of a dead fish!"
"10 seconds."
"Well I guess I like dead fishes then."
"Are you trying to tell me you're a necrophile?"
"No!"
"4 seconds."
"Well, I guess I meant to say..."
"3 seconds."
"That."
"2 seconds."
"Spit out it out already!"
He was growing impatient.
"1 second."
" I LIKE YOU!"
