TBP CHATFIC || zxmbiebeatzz A03!

We ♡ Daniel/JK JK JK

Daniel scoffed, "I can't believe they actually let you back in school." He eyed me up and down with a disapproving look. "Seriously, Bruce? You're psychotic.” I felt the familiar hot surge of anger bubble up inside me. Clenching my fists, I met Daniel's gaze with a steely glare. "Coming from you, that means nothing," I spat out. "At least I own up to my mistakes instead of pretending to be someone I'm not." Daniel's face turned red with rage as he took a step towards me, but before he could say anything else, the school bell rang,signaling the start of 1st class. I pushed past him, determined to not let his comments affect me. This time would be different: not only did I have to ignore the stares of others, but also maintain a certain image to satisfy my family. It seems like I'm the one pretending to be someone I'm not.

Today, I'm experiencing nausea and my vision is slightly blurry. As I walk to class with my friends, their voices sound distant even though they are right beside me. The hallway seems to stretch on forever until we finally reach our destination that still appears to be a mile away from me

I sit down at my desk, looking around the classroom, hoping no one would notice my discomfort. The chalkboard came into focus, but the shadows of the teacher's arms next to it remained faint and blurry. I knew what today would bring – isolation and constant internal battles. As the lesson began, I struggled to focus, my mind wandering off to my last outburst, and the whispers that followed in the halls. I could hear the murmurs of my peers, carrying on about me behind my back. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out their voices, and the memories that haunted me. Despite my efforts, the words kept repeating themselves over and over in my head. "Psychotic. Liars. Fakes." I tried to drown their voices out by focusing on the teacher's voice. Each word that passed them by felt like a solace. As soon as the lesson ended, I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom and rushed towards the toilet.

Kneeling in front of the toilet, I forced myself to breathe deeply, trying to calm the churning sensation in my stomach. The sounds of the bustling school faded into the background as I focused on regaining control over my body. The cool tiles against my forehead provided a brief moment of respite from the chaos that seemed to follow me everywhere. A knock on the bathroom door pulled me back to reality, and I recognized my friend Robin's concerned voice calling out to me. "Bruce, are you okay? Can I come in?" I hesitated for a moment before managing a weak response, "I'm fine,Robin. Just need a minute." The door creaked open, and Robin entered, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he approached me. he then knelt down beside me, placing a comforting hand on my back. "You don't look fine, Bruce. What's going on?" I swallowed hard, trying to find the words to explain without revealing too much. "Just a bad day, Robin. Feeling a bit under the weather," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. Robin didn't push further, knowing me well enough to sense when I needed space. Instead, he handed me some tissue and waited silently as I tried to compose myself. After a few minutes, when the nausea had passed and my breathing had steadied, I managed to stand up with Robin's help. "Thanks, Robin. I think I'm good now," I said, offering him a weak smile. He studied my face for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, but if you need anything, you know where to find me," he said before giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leaving the bathroom. As I stood there alone, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel the weight of my secrets pressing down on me. The facade I had carefully constructed was starting to crack, and I wondered how long I could keep up this charade. The guilt and shame gnawed at me from the inside, threatening to consume me whole. I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the doubts and fears that plagued my mind.

Looking at my reflection once more, I made a promise to myself: I couldn't keep living like this. As I look down at my arm and trace over the small scars, I can't help but feel guilty. I enter an empty stall and take out the tiny blade hidden in my phone case once again, slowly scratching at the scars as more scars form and blood drips from my arms i swiftly cover my mouth to muffle the loud sobs that escape from me. I leave the stall, pulling my arm down and looking at my reflection in the mirror, trying to compose myself. I inhale deeply, trying to control my emotions and prevent any tears from falling. After wiping away the ones that have already escaped, I leave the bathroom. As I exit the bathroom, I straighten my shirt and take a deep breath, determined not to let the day consume me. Walking down the hallway, I force a smile, making small talk with my classmates as I pass them. My mind is filled with a mixture of guilt, fear, and determination. For better or worse, I've decided to face the world with my mask on, hiding the truth from those around me. The weight of my secrets becomes a constant reminder of the delicate facade I've created.