Under The Mask

Chapter 2

I walk slowly down the street towards college. The only reason I know where it is is because I checked before we moved here so that I won’t be late for my first day. It’s happened before at my old college in Sheffield. I walked in at 10:20 after getting lost on the way as I took a few wrong turnings which lead to me being in the centre of the city. They shouted at me, of course, but because it was my first day they let me off. That college was horrible – one of the worst places I was ever bullied but I’ve moved on now. The bruises have healed and I’ve pretty much forgotten every single person there.

Luckily this time though, I know exactly where I’m going and college isn’t too far from my house either. I know the route like the back of my hand; down my street, right at the end then the second left and the college is half way down that street. It’s not far, not far at all which is a good thing I guess. I can get home quickly if I ever need to and I can run back from the college. I’ll probably have people chasing me though, that’s happened before. It’s terrifying when they almost catch you, catch you to pull you down to the floor, wanting to kick you repeatedly in the stomach and try to knock the lights out of your head, but I haven’t been caught yet so this won’t make any difference. That is probably the only thing I am optimistic about – I have never been caught and I’m a fast runner so I doubt anybody will ever catch me.

As I get to the end of my street I look around both corners before crossing the road. It’s surprisingly quiet but I see a girl who is walking towards the college too, or at least she seems to be. She’s wearing a baby blue baggy t-shirt with short teal blue shorts on, sporting a pair of black leggings with a simple pair of white converses. A simple yet elegant outfit. I follow behind her to the college, not too close though as I don’t want her to feel like I’m stalking her. Instead, I have my phone out and scroll through twitter, wondering what the world is doing today.

Whilst I’m terribly shy in real life, I’m fine on twitter. Twitter is my safe haven, the place I can go where people understand me. Okay, hardly anybody is in the situation I am, but it’s nice to talk to people when we’re not face to face, and where I can take my time to reply and block them if they annoy me. If only life was like that… blocking people out of your life when they get annoying. That’d be brilliant.

Before I know it I’m standing at the front of the college. I walk along the curved path and round the back of the college to the entrance for students where I walk in. I pull out a letter from my bag that I have slung over my shoulder that I was given to help me find my way around. My first class is in S2, history. I should just get this over with. I look up to the signs in the doorway, find the sign for S2 and follow it.

I get some funny looks as I walk, some “Hey it’s the new guy!” and “Oh, so that’s him!” but I carry on walking, not paying attention until I am stopped in my tracks. My head is trailing the floor and all I can see are some brightly coloured shoes, lime green to be precise. Sported by some green trousers I simply say “Excuse me.” under my breath, hoping that the person would move.

“You’re the new guy, aren’t you?” The person says above me. I don’t look up at him, no; I keep my head staring at the floor. His shoes look nice; I’ll keep focused on them. I feel a hand forcefully grab my shoulder and a pair of lips reach ever closer to my ear. “Are you deaf? I said, you’re the new guy, aren’t you?” he whispers into my ear, sending a chill down my spine.

This probably isn’t the best start to the day, it’s not even first lesson and I’ve already been stopped. I nod my head slowly, not looking up from the shoes. “Good.” He whispers. A forceful blow hits me square in the stomach, knocking me backwards off guard and onto the floor. With a loud thud, my bum hits the floor and I feel the pain start immediately. The jolt of electrifying pain darts its way up my spine as soon as I make contact with the floor, and my eyes forcefully shut. I already know that a bruise will be there tomorrow morning – my weak skin can barely take anymore of this.