*HEY YOU! This story is sad and full of triggering topics so read with caution. This is my only warning so as not to disrupt the flow of the story. Fill free to like and comment your thoughts. Thank you reading<3. ***
I sometimes wonder if I'm doing something wrong...if I looked in the wrong direction, or if I just happened to step in the wrong place. I tend to breathe in so quickly; I forget how to breathe sometimes. Maybe that's what's wrong with me. I move too fast. I hate looking at one thing but thinking of another. As if I'm staring at a brick wall while the show is playing behind me, but I can't seem to fucking turn around.
I've been staring for so long, I think my feet have grown into the ground. My toes twisted up like roots into the concrete. My veins have a flowing system in the soil. This school...these people, they're all a part of me.
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I walked around the football field for at least thirty minutes though it felt like an hour. The bell hadn't rung, and it was daunting having to step back into that high school. I was a sophomore now, and I knew the ins and outs, but I was still a geek-ass punk with no friends and labeled the town faggot. My skin crawled at the word, fag. I sat through two hours a day of therapy to talk out my confusion. My father hit me at least once a day to beat out the gay...I wasn't gay...well, not anymore. I hate them, it, and all of the above. They can rot in a dark fiery pit for life...just let me be free of it.
"You're gonna burn a hole in the field if you walk another lap..." I looked up, and Evan sat on the field and held a weathered football. He was a cool guy on his own, but he was a dickhead in the school. I slowed my nervous walk and watched him toss the football up and down. He was a good-looking guy, way better than me. Probably fucked as many girls as I attempted to masturbate to them.
"I hate this school...the people, the responsibility, all bullshit," he shouted. I nodded and walked a little bit closer to him. He just watched me and continued to fumble with the football. I debated talking to him...trying to say anything, but the bell rang, and he stood up and walked away before I could even let out a sound. I slapped my cheeks a few times and prepared myself for what I had to endure for another year."And, Ahhhh, Hmmm?" I squirmed and tried to pull away, but the grip on my shoulder was too tight. I thought he for sure broke my collarbone. I was pinned against the locker, Owen Steele held me down, and the others egged him on as he painted my face with cheap dollar-store makeup.
"PERFECTO!" He let me go and high-fived his friends' tears threatened to fall...I wouldn't let them. I couldn't be weak, not yet. It was the first day, and I could do this. Owen pulled out a mirror from his backpack and showed me my face. I almost laughed at myself in shame. My father would probably disown me if he saw me. I started rubbing my face on my jacket sleeve, and they groaned in disappointment. Owen pulled my hand away and looked me in the eye, my body froze, and I felt this fear well up in my stomach. I thought my legs would give. I was trapped in his gaze, and I felt small...I felt so worthless."Take a picture."
"Hurry up! I wanna try!"
"Look! He's crying. Should we do two at once?"I snapped out of my thoughts and felt my legs give in. As I fell to the ground. The group laughed at me as Owen continued to hold onto my arm. He shook me a few times like a dog. I started crying, and they soaked it up like lifeblood. "And here I thought, you were actually someone this year!? Nothing but a useless fag!" Owen pushed my arm down, making me fall lower to the ground, and walked off with the group. The people around me whispered, and some laughed...but they all stared. I quickly gathered my things and ran to the bathroom. I locked myself in a stall and puked into the toilet. I felt like my head was too full. Too much was happening. Too much was wrong.
I sat in that stall, I sat there and thought about everything. Dissected the past and found every reason why it happens. I was wrong; I shouldn't have opened my mouth...nothing seemed right. Nothing made sense. I shouldn't feel so disgusting. I shouldn't feel like the piece of shit on someone's shoe. I should be the one being protected, liked, loved, and cared for... so why am I so lonely.
'Ring'
The bell rang and echoed in the bathroom like a final call. I pressed my head onto the cool stall door and danced my fingertips across the blue wall. I felt solace here. I felt free in this small space where waste is flushed away. I felt my heart pounding, and I felt my head become light. I don't know why I did it...I just knew I had to let it go... I brought out a black marker and used my best handwriting. I wrote on the stall in the boy's bathroom.'May 17, 2017...I was raped by Owen Steele, Christian Andrews, and Evan Peters.'
I think that stall...is what ended my life that year.
*Doing my best to feel less stress...SMOOCHES**
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The Night I Can't Forget
Ficção GeralGabriel Daniels, nicked named Gabe, is holding a secret too big for him to carry. As secrets and lies spread, the weight of the truth crushes everyone involved in, The night they can't forget.