- THREE DAYS BEFORE
January 2015,
I never thought of my life to be something extraordinary or spectacular. I never had anything relatively interesting happen to me.
I was average; maybe even a little below average.
That doesn't mean I went by unseen, unnoticed.
People thought it was quite funny to make fun of me, or call me names; a few of them even pushed me.
They had one name that they always used: Psycho.
I didn't know why or when it even came up, but that's what everyone addressed me as.
So it didn't surprise me when someone shouted it down the hallway as soon as I walking into school this morning.
"How's the Psycho doing today?" a junior teased, making a snobbish face as they passed by me.
I chose not to say anything; it wouldn't benefit me at all by justifying that with an answer.
And when I reached my locker, another one came up and bumped my shoulder, "Psycho."
I shrugged it off and began looking through my locker for my geometry book, which I had no luck finding. I checked my book-bag in case I left it in there, but it wasn't.
I tilted my head back and groaned, remembering I had left it at home.
"tough luck, freak?" A classmate of mine asked.
I sighed and turned to him, "what do you want?"
"nothing, just wanted to talk to a freak today," He smirked and then walked of down the hallways.
well, at least I don't have to deal with him anymore, I thought to myself.
I shut my locker and headed to geometry empty handed, since I had forgotten my book at home.
I sat at the table I was assigned to and was joined my table partner, Michael.
He just rolled his eyes and me and looked away, even though I hadn't said anything to him at all.
"psycho," he muttered under his breath.
I just sighed and waited for the bell to ring as a few of the student came jogging into the classroom, hoping they wouldn't be tardy.
the bell rang and the teacher walked up to his whiteboard, instructing everyone to pass last nights homework in.
Michael roughly nudged my arm and held out a hand as if he was waiting for me to hand him my paper, I just shook my head at him and he glared at me.
"no homework, huh?" He teased and passed his paper to the person at the table in front of us.
"no," I mumbled.
He just smirked weirdly and turned his attention back to the teacher that was telling us about our new lesson and the homework that we would have tonight.
I crossed my fingers under the table, hoping that he wouldn't ask us to get our books out because then I would really be in some deep trouble, this teacher wasn't an easy one.
"Class will be cut off early tomorrow, since there will be an assembly and then school ends immediately afterwards, so I wouldn't even bother coming in tomorrow, just a heads up to you guys," the teacher informed.
a few people in the class cheered, happy to have school off tomorrow.
"don't get excited, because the homework is due the next day."
The same people that cheered just a minuet ago started groaning.
...
"class dismissed," the teacher spoke.
I sat in my seat, gathering my things, until everyone but Michael was gone. I figured I was in the clear by now, and that I could leave the class without getting pushed or trampled.
but I guess not.
as soon as I stood up to leave, Michael did the same. he walked behind me very closely as we exited the class, and when we made it into the hallway, out of sight from any teachers, he bumped me.
not just a little "oh sorry, that was an accident" kind of bump. it was a "fuck you, I hope you fall" kind of bump.
although, I didn't fall.
but I did hit my back against the wall, with force.
and it hurt, just a little bit.
but Michael looked pretty pleased with what he had accomplished anyways.
"psycho," he muttered and then held his head up high, walking down the hallway to his friends that were assholes, just like him.
he looked proud.
I don't understand how someone could get pride from hurting others. I don't understand why people like to hurt others.
but then again, I had it coming.
I deserved it.
because I didn't ever fought back, no matter how bad it got. I earned it, people thought I was a pushover.
I would rather be a pushover than a asshole.
...
at lunch, I sat on the floor in the back of the cafeteria because all of the tables were taken and I wasn't going to sit with anyone else.
that wasn't even an option.
a few people gave me weird looks as they walked by, I walked right into that one though, since I am sitting on the floor.
most people just ignored me, like I wasn't worth their time.
which I wasn't, they didn't need to pay attention to me, they had better things to do with themselves than look at the freak sitting on the floor in the back of the cafeteria.
"rat," A fellow classmate spat down at me as they walked by.
I walked right in to that one too.
for the rest of lunch I tried to not look up, so I just focused on my tray in front of me, picking at my food. I hardly put any of the food in my mouth though, I didn't have an appetite anymore.
so when the cafeteria was nearly clear of most students, I walked up to dump my tray and then heading to my last lesson of the day.
it seemed as simple as just walking to class, and doing the student thing.
but nothing was ever that simple around here, at least not for me.
I ran down the stairs, in a rush to get to my locker, but of course I always have bad luck, so I tripped and stumbled down the last four or five steps.
and of course, no one bothered to help.
I sat there on the floor and held my leg in pain and watched as people snickered and point.
these people were all too happy to see what had happened to me.
so, instead of lending a hand, they just stood around and watched me sit in my own misery.
"would you all just piss off?" some one from behind the group spoke up.
oh great, I thought.
the crowd reluctantly cleared and moved to their class, but the person who the voice belonged to stood right before me.
"oh," he muttered, smirking down at me, "it's you."
