Reprogrammed (Hunter Angst)

Faking It Until It Kills Me

On Monday, Principal Bump approached Hunter, Gus, Amity, and Willow as they chatted in front of Gus's locker. In his hand, he grasped a piece of paper. Hunter was already so tired of mysterious pieces of paper; His stomach filled with dread when he glanced at it.

Gus, on the other hand, was delighted to see Principal Bump, and immediately exclaimed in delight when he approached.

"Yo, Bump-ster! How's it hangin'?" He shouted over the noise filling the space.

"Hello, so good to see you all! Would I be able to pull the four of you into my office for just a moment before the start of classes?" Bump asked.

"Of course!" Amity replied, speaking for all of them. Hunter frowned a little. Once they were in the principal's office, Bump handed Hunter the paper.

"I know that the students at this school haven't necessarily been the most kind to you, my boy. I want you to enjoy your time at Hexside, so I've devised a new schedule for you in an effort to make your school day more palatable."

Hunter glanced down at the aforementioned parchment and smiled. He'd been moved into classes with new students, and now shared two more classes with his friends. With the changes, he was in history with Gus, and potions with Amity in the afternoon. He was still in the gym with Willow too, of course. His worry was erased quickly as it morphed into delight.

"This is... really nice! Thank you, Principal Bump!" He beamed at the older man. Bump smiled back at him, and dismissed the group to begin their day. They chattered excitedly as they went to their classes.

Because of the changes in Hunter's schedule, his day went much better. There were still the occasional little things, like a cruel name whispered in the hall or kids "accidentally" kicking his bag, but it seemed to matter less when he was around friends.

Hunter was also incredibly grateful that none of his friends questioned any of Bump's words. He still hadn't told them about the incident from Friday. It was sort of an unspoken rule with all of them; If somebody didn't want to talk about something, they all let it be.

Hunter's therapist, however, was different. She asked a lot of questions. He went to see her for two hours every week, and he always walked out of her office feeling exhausted and overstimulated despite the low lighting and soft environment. He was growing to trust the woman a little more, but it was still incredibly hard.

The paper that she gave him to do for homework was a kind of evaluation. It asked him all kinds of strange questions that he had to answer on a scale from one to ten, such as how often he felt sad, how often he felt nervous doing things, how much he slept at night. He was only halfway honest in his answers, sparing her from the worst of it.

At night, he slept very little. Nightmares plagued him for every second he closed his eyes. During meals, he often opted to eat less than half of what everyone else was eating, or he skipped out entirely. There were days where he would have to miss an hour or so of class because the teenager would be too busy having panic attacks in the bathroom.

He still saw Belos in the mirror, Belos in the dark, Belos beneath his skin. The man went everywhere he did, silent and unseen to everyone else. Mrs. Rose started to notice the scratches on his arms; the blood underneath and around his fingernails from where he picked at himself until there was blood and sharp pain. It helped bring him back to reality.