Just another day of sitting in the corner of the room, trying to go unnoticed. But that doesn't last for long, it never does. By fourth period a group of guys where on my back about some dumb shit. "Hey loser, what are you doing? Other than being a faggot."
"I would apreciate it if you wouldn't use that word as in insult, unless of course you aren't straight. Then its okay because then you're not as offencive--" Next thing I'm on the floor with the pain of a thousand knives in my cheek and a hand print on my face. "Are you calling me gay? You've done it now punk."
"No thats not what I was trying to say at all, I was just saying if you were then it would be considered less offencive."
"Stop fucking talking before you make me more mad. Now you have till the count of three." I started to get up.
one
I was standing and looking to see which way i should run
two
i started running
three
The guys are coming after me, there must be about ten of them. Ten big hulking guys, and then theres me. One scrawny guy, these odds aren't fair. But to them, whats fair? I run out of the school, the adults never help me anyway. "Oh boys will be boys" They would say, or "Oh they where just teasing." Just teasing to the point of almost my death. I'm out of the building and running, i dont know where but im just trying to get away. But next thing i know theres a tightness around my neck, a noose like hand trying to get my every last breath. The guy snickered. "Now, tell me you're a faggot."
A tear is streaming down my face. I try and take a breath but his hand just keeps getting tighter. "I'm a faggot."
"now say you're in love with me."
"Im in love with you." Him and his friends laughed at me, then i was thrown to the ground. "Now get the fuck out of here." I ran home. I was sick of this. I couldn't stand it. When I got inside my house I went straight to my room. "Dads not home, must be at the bar." I slammed my door shut and reached under my mattress. There, there was a small thin blade. My way of escaping, from everything. My way of keeping me steady. I rolled up my blue sweatshirt sleeve and I dug the blade into my skin. I felt the sharp pain and took a deep breath. I saw the blood run down my arm and onto my pants. "Shit, I need a towel." I walked to the bathroom across the hall and grabbed a hand towel. I wiped my arm of the blood, rolled down my sleeve. I could feel the cuts aginst my sleeve, i didnt care i was steadied.
I opened my laptop and searched 'Schools in my district.' I scrolled through the list of schools and found a art school. "I like to draw, lets check out this one." It was a simple school, but an art school. It wasn't open yet though. They where still working on it. "It should be opening in six months. I'll be there. For now I still have to go the the hell hole i go to now. But only for six more months.
"Its the end of the day at school, Im not going to go back for the last five minutes."
This is where I am desiding to end this. I am done.
50 shades of fucking done.
