I feel a burning brightness through my eyelids as I begin to open my eyes. I glance at the alarm clock to my left, in piercing red letters reads: 8:05 AM.
Fuck... Fuck, Fuck. Please stop cursing.
I toss the teal duvet to the ground and grab the closest pair of jeans as I remember yesterday's events.
Die emo scum, Fag, Queer.
All the taunts replay in my mind. I toss a shirt on, grab a muffin and head out.
"Time for another day of hell" I say aloud. I have to drive to school as I missed the bus. I get about 5 minutes away from the school when a group of delinquents drive by and toss random cans of soda at my car.
**************
"That's all for today, the bell should ring soon, until then feel free to work on homework from any other classes... Or don't." My teacher chuckles. I start my countdown to the lunch bell
3...2...1..
The bell rings and I praise god.
I decide to head to my locker before I chow down. I packed a ham sandwich with lightly salted crisps. Someone slams my locker shut. I'm fuming now, then I realize my hand is still in it.
"What the actual hell mate?!" I exclaim, I realized I yelled at my main tormenter and my anger deflates, replaced with fear. I decide to focus on the main subject, my bloody hand. I open my locker and allow my hand to heal. The son of a bitch slaps hands with his buddies as a reward for causing my pain. Then I notice my closeted boyfriend, Eric.
"Please," I say, anticipating what comes next "Please..."
