Blood; Ben Bruce

torture

Adam's Song- Blink-182
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I went to the back of the room, grabbing my acoustic Fender guitar. I was sure to keep my face down for another five minuets, until Ms. Owen allowed us to go to the restroom.

"Benjamin," I heard Ms. Owen's voice taunt. "You're late again."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him chuckle, his expression dropping when his eyes landed on me.

He took his seat next to me. "Didn't know they let pathetic whores in here."

"I'm a virgin." I said with no emotion.

His mouth dropped, thinking I didn't see him. "And you admit that?" He laughed.

I shrugged.

"What are you? Some religious church girl that wants to save herself for marriage?" He tried.

"No," I stated simply. "I don't believe in god."

He tensed, shutting his mouth.

I started to play the cords of Blink-182's Adam's Song. The rest of the class was talking amongst themselves while I played my favourite song.

Benjamin was still staring at me, his eyes unreadable. I continued to play, trying to ignore his icy glare.

"Stop looking at me, Benjamin."

He groaned, "Just call me Ben."

"Fine. Ben, please stop looking at me. I'm trying to play."

"Yeah you should try a little harder. You're literal shit." Ben scoffed. I pursed my lips, trying to keep my attention to the song.

My hands started shaking, causing me to press hard on the E string. I felt the cool metal pierce into my skin. Soon enough, blood came out the wound.

I frowned, starting to feel frustrated. "Ms. Owen," I called raising my hand. "I cut my finger, can I use the restroom please?"

"That's probably not the only thing she cut." Someone snickered.

There was a few laughs from the person's comment. Ms. Owen sent a glare to the boy, making him quiet down.

I grabbed my makeup bag, quickly fleeing the classroom before I could embarrass myself further. As soon as I left, I heard the laughter start again.

My shoulders slumped. I walked slowly to the bathroom, trying to waste more of my time.

The bathrooms were a disgusting place, which I doubt were ever cleaned. Tampons and bloody pads covered the floors. I cringed in disgust, going over to the sink to fix my appearance.

Dabbing my eye with more concealer, I fought the urge to cry from the pain. Everything started to hurt again when the bruise was concealed. It was as if no one could see it, but it left a scar on my body that I'd never forget.

I rinsed the blood from my finger, pulling out a bandaid from my makeup bag. I wrapped it around the cut, deciding it was time to come back.

Once I opened the door, everyone's eyes were on me. I smiled sheepishly, taking my seat next to Ben.

"What happened to your face?" He questioned.

I raised a brow. "Nothing. Why?"

Ben gave me a blinding glare, as if to say, I'm not fucking stupid.

I shook my head, turning away from his cold eyes. If I let him know anything, he'd just mock me even more. This boy wouldn't care what happened to me.

For all it's worth, I was just an object. To him, to my peers, to my parents. I was an object that was practically useless and a waste of time and space. Anything could happen to me, and not a single soul would care.

I'm a waste. And everyone knows it.