Dead Inside

Chapter 1 | Rich boys, who also happen to like other boys, don't get convicted.

October 10th, 2027

After what felt like an hour later, I finally exited the nearest school bathroom I could find earlier and headed towards the school exit.

If my mind was at peace just an hour ago, now a flock of confusing thoughts was circling through it in a chaotic formation. And no matter how hard I attempted to silence my conscience, I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

It was clear as a sunny day - I was feeling guilty about what I had done to the only person capable of getting on my last nerve, Evan Bass.

This boy truly had a gift for provoking the worst possible reactions from me.

And you want to know the best part?

Contrary to popular belief, he was the one having some sort of resentment towards me and not the other way around. I was just stupid enough not to keep my mouth shut, or my hands away from hitting the closest punching target, to avoid trouble as he did.

Was I happy that my stress levels had lowered?

Absolutely!

That was the only thing I was sure about regarding my latest unpleasant encounter with my enemy.

But was I satisfied with my choice of using him as a punching bag?

Definitely not.

After all, violence was never the answer to anything.

Funnily enough, I was not an aggressive type of person - I even tend to look away when a violent scene in a horror movie unfolds in front of my shy eyes.

So why was I feeling the need to relieve my stress using primal ways of acting in his presence?

To be damned if I know.

The only thing I knew, however, was that I needed to start avoiding him.

If a casual beating was not enough to make him stay away from me and to finally be aware of our strength difference, then I was going to be the smarter one.

Someone had to be.

And as I wasn't the one coming from an influential ménage, as he liked to refer to his atypical family, I had to be cautious about the consequences of my actions.

Because let's be honest - rich boys, who also happen to like other rich boys, don't get convicted. They just get a slap on the wrist and are eventually allowed to go, sometimes even with an additional number in their cellphone which belonged to a hot police officer.

Trust me, I was aware of the irony.

Unfortunately, as my life had already started falling apart, I wasn't in the position to make further wrong choices.

My future required me to get back on track, so I could finally leave the premises of the small town I had grown up into.

And that wasn't going to happen if I continued beating up the son of the mayor who had an agenda towards me.

So ignorance suddenly felt much safer than proving that I wasn't a failure with the help of my very own fists.

Moreover, after what happened today, a surprising determination to change the ways I was handling my problems was more than refreshing.

I guess I was finally starting to mature.

A feeling that quickly got misplaced the second I reached my relatively new car.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing with my boyfriend's car?" a familiar voice said to me out of a sudden, marking the beginning of what I would describe as something truly extraordinary.

The voice, of course, belonged to my best friend, Noah Banner - someone who was in my corner since day one.

I couldn't even attempt to describe what our relationship meant to me, so I will refer to him as the best thing that had ever happened to me.

From the moment he came into my life, I just knew that I was destined for more than to end up with drug problems, and eventually pass away from an overdose as my parents did.

However, that was after they disowned and practically left me for dead at the ripe age of fifteen.

They may have had nothing to live for and look forward to, but I was more than definitely going places.

Maybe not a real college, but certainly somewhere far away from the troubles they had in this small community we called Brixton.

"Nice one, Banner. I will admit it to you." I gave him an answer while I simultaneously unlocked my vehicle, visibly chuckling at his old-school type of humor.

Or at least I tried to.

The key was suddenly not the right match for its designed hole.

That was eerie.

But not as much as my best friend suddenly swinging at me, eventually finding success with his determination to knock me out for the next half an hour.

For a split second, before I was bound to hit the cold pavement beneath me, I could see my reflection in the glass window of what I still believed to be my car.

At first glance, nothing seemed unusual - I still had my curls intact, my sharp green eyes continued to match my dark hair, and my perky lips seemed as insatiable as ever.

However, if someone was able to take a closer look, my face would have appeared somehow distorted.

Furthermore, my pupils seemed a little off, my hair looked more mislaid than usual and my nose was clearly, if not narrower, more pointer.

What was actually happening today?

"That will teach you some manners, thief." Noah said before storming off the parking lot, probably with the intention of not leaving any witnesses.

There was only one problem - he somehow managed to leave the biggest one as a bruise on my left cheek.

I guess our friendship was one-sided because I couldn't for the life of me see this punch coming.

What was his problem?

So much for our bromance.

Looking back at the situation, I should have been more cautious about why my best friend had suddenly decided to refer to me as his boyfriend.

But for the moment, I was preoccupied with my current desire to sleep off the next couple of minutes in peace.

I had plenty of trouble coming right my way the second I was bound to open my eyes for the second time, so I might have as well gotten a little break between two catastrophes.

To put it in a nutshell, I should have just stayed home and played games like any other rational person would have done.

Sadly, I have never been more irrational in my eighteen years of existence on this planet.