Considered Insane: How They Saved My Life (NO LONGER UPDATING)

Chapter 1

The old yellow school bus screeches to a stop in front of me, snow swirling around my long legs like a foggy cloud of smoke. I shiver and begin my walk onto the bus and ascend the stairs slowly. I can already hear the kids ahead, snickering and pointing at me as I shuffle towards my seat. Chants and cheers surround me as the teenage boys in the front kick my legs and scratch at my arms, drawing small amounts of blood.

"She should go back home and cut herself up," the tallest whispers loud enough for me to hear.

"The bitch practically begs for attention," a red-haired boy yells, gathering the majority of the bus's attention.

Heads turn in my direction, and I can feel their eyes stalk me as I silently glide to a seat in the back. I let my electric blue fringed hair fall over my face as I slide my headphones over my head, blocking out the bus and the world. It's the same routine every morning, and I endure the same insults at the hellhole I call school. The same insults, the same abuse, the same looks, the same everything. Sometimes I wonder how they sleep at night.

I sit lightly and pull out my sketchbook and think as the bus clunks along down the street, I think about my family and our past. Well, mainly my mother and older brother, and how we all used to be so close. Then my dad left us when I was four and my brother eight, no money to our names. We lived in a local shelter until my eleventh birthday. Our mother bought a small house a few blocks from the school, which was only convenient for my her. She was and still is constantly intoxicated and high on several drugs that she leaves out on the kitchen table. She abuses me, and often sends my brother off to do her dirty work.

The bus eventually comes to a stop in front of the small high school, emptying its kids onto the sidewalk. I reluctantly place my sketchbook back into my bag and walk off of the bus and into Scrame High School, quietly avoiding the other, taller teenagers. They scare the living shit out of me.  Not just them, but the world and all of its inhabitants. Why I can't get a break is beyond me, but as long as-

"Hey you! Yeah, emo freak. Get your ass over here if you want me to go easy on you today," a familiar, harsh voice yells from the opposite end of the lobby. My head snaps up at this to see the large and burly figure of Scott Crowe, looming eerily lurking in the far corner. His eyes glint as I pick up my pace, hoping to reach my locker and maybe even first hour before I get dragged back into the uncanny storage room.

Scott pushes his thick frame from the wall and follows me, matching me stride for stride. He remains several feet behind me, never losing sight of my small figure. As I approach my locker, a hand firmly grasps my shoulder with strong enough grip that it will leave a bruise. The hand yanks me towards the dark hallway, long abandoned due to an old fire some thirty years ago. The town wouldn't pay to have it refurbished, so it now serves as my personal torture chamber.

"I told you I would go easy if you didn't run today," Scott breathes into my ear, stirring the hair around my eyes. "Now we're gonna play a little game. You like games, don't you? I see you like to play tic tac toe on your arms, so let's play a new game." I feel the tears sting my eyes as I'm thrown onto the ash-covered floor of the old disused janitors closet.

"Oh, don't worry emo. This game still includes a knife," Scott advances on me after slamming the rusty door. A small pocket knife slides between the fingertips of his hand, flashing with light from the small light bulb hanging from the low ceiling. I close my eyes and feel the alcohol-tinged breath blast in my face and the blade of the knife pressing firmly into the skin on my cheek. 

Scott flips my over and I gasp in shock as my shirt is lifted from my back and my hair swept away. The malicious laugh that escapes his mouth causes me to shiver and convulse. The blade lightly dances across my skin as he plays with my mind, making me unsure where the pain will begin. Suddenly, a sharp pang shoots down my spine as the knife slices open my skin. It curves and streaks lines up and down my back, leaving me numb and faint. Words seem to be formed, but before I gain the sense to determine them, I slide into blackness, the pain fading.

AUTHOR NOTE

I hope you enjoy Considered Insane so far! I plan to update a chapter or more a day (if you're lucky XD), which will depend on quality and length of each chapter. This story will hopefully take only three weeks to fully complete, so get ready!

~ Hannah