Myocardium

Part 29

Monday morning, I am ripped out of my dreams after a very lacklustre nap, just in time to wake my siblings. Rafael and I have talked for a while tonight. I wasn't about anything specific, but I feel that, oddly, it may have strengthened this strange bond we have. 

And the necklace he gifted me? It's something I'll forever treasure and wear proudly. People don't need to know who it's from, but I'm not going to forget that, ever.

Once I'm sitting in our lovely classroom, people seem to have every reason to fight me again. I'm still a bit high from last night, but that only aids my bizarrely good mood that not even the little sticky notes on my desk telling me to go kill myself manage to bring down. It's good, everything they do only gives me more and more evidence that I will eventually use against them. 

Every single note, I slip into my backpack to gather them on my pile of terrible things said and done to or about me. And as much as I want to burn this fucking pile in the top drawer of my bedside table to the fucking ground, I need to resist. I'll get the revenge I deserve eventually. And believe me, the things they say, write or do can't hurt me anymore.

The confidence I have lasts for a few lessons, but things take another turn in our lunchbreak as per usual. The drugs wear off and I'm so, so exhausted that I physically struggle to keep my drooping eyelids open. Sleep, I need to sleep. 

I've seen Rafael for a brief moment as he walks by, but he doesn't pay me any mind, just as he should. It's good that we stay on the low during daytime, people would only ruin what we have if they start suspecting something.

Also, the last thing I want if to get Rafael in trouble, when all he's ever done is try to get me out of it as much as he can. Although the urge to hug him whenever he's near still persists and grows stronger day by day. When it's our turn to change rooms for science lessons, Ben decides to mess with me yet again. It's dumb of me not to expect what he does, that only makes me more vulnerable to his cruelty. Quick reminder to myself, always stay on guard or people will fuck you up recklessly. Thought I'd have learned and memorized this lesson by heart already. 

So, as we're all walking through the hallway that has become a maelstrom of young people trying to make it through the day, I suddenly feel a hand at the back of my head and before I can react, the side of my head is smashed against the lockers and causes me to fall to the ground after a loud, metal thump catches everyone's attention. For a second, I lie there in shock, my vision is spinning, and my ears are ringing painfully. 

"Dude, what the fuck?", I mutter under my breath and sit up, leaning my back against the lockers. People are staring at me, some in shock, some with a malicious smile on their faces.

The professors who walk by don't bat an eye, I guess the principal must have told them to ignore whatever is done to me and only speak up if it's me who hurts someone. Ben is still standing in front of me, laughing evilly. I don't react, only gaze up at him with a dead-serious look on my face. At this point, I'm not even mad anymore, I'm just exhausted, annoyed at best.

Something unexpected happens, when his expression turns slightly less evil and he reaches out his hand. I hate how I sometimes can't keep my mask up in front of all these students, being in too much shock from the knockdown.

"Fucking save it, asshole," I snarl, slap his hand away with my shoulder as I get up by myself and dizzily walk away from him, using the wall as support for the first few steps as I have trouble balancing myself at first. Whatever that just was, I do not want to have anything to do with it for sure. Either way, I'll get the dirt on him sooner or later, doesn't matter whether the professors step in or not. 

What still remains beyond me is why the principal hates me so much. Is it because of Ben's rich parents? Is it because I don't have parents or because the ones I used to have were not exactly known to be good people? Is it because he simply can't care less about this fucked up boy I apparently am? No fucking idea. Screw him. Screw this system. I'll be fine one way or another, I'm strong enough to not let the shit that happens here get to me all that much. I do pity all the kids who find themselves in a similar position though, and for them, I deserve revenge. Or at least justice.