The Sight of Sound

Chapter 2-The First Day

Hello my loyal readers. MATURE CONTENT (swearing) and definite TRIGGER WARNING. Enjoy! :-)

3rd person

The hairs on the back of Bailey's neck were on edge, as they had been for the past two minutes, due to the school's gates coming into his line of sight. Almost the second he stepped over the imaginary threshold line of the school, Bailey felt an arm drape itself around his neck and come to rest on the slightly padded shoulders of his blazer.

"Hey there Bailey, how are you?" said the maliciously sweet voice of the school bully.

Sweeping the unfamiliar limb away from him, Bailey quickened his pace and sighed, wishing the arm was that of a certain other person. "Ollie, it's clear that you don't care about me. If you don't like me, then avoid me like a normal person would."

"No."

"Pardon me?"

"I said 'no'. You're not normal, fag. So why should I treat you like an actual, decent human? You know I tried my hardest to be nice but I guess you gays-sorry, homoflexishits-don't have any manners." the savage snarl sneered with a mocking tone.

"I-" but the smart retort embedded on the front of Bailey mind was snatched from him as his body thudded into the muddy ditch.

"You queers should all fuck off."

"I can't help that I'm gay, but I'm disabled too, remember? Doesn't that get me any sympathy?"

He received 2 responses: "No. That reminds me I'm being too nice." The second was a ferocious boot to the chest, sending Bailey sprawling and unable to move.

Bailey had the immense fortune of living a five-minute walk away from school, meaning the morning commute was easy, he had a low carbon footprint but also that he arrived at school half an hour before school started. Meaning there were 25 more minutes of abuse in stall before the sanctuary of 1st-period geography watched over him. Next up in the queue of clouds to rain abuse all over Bailey was Golden Boy and son of the headmaster, Daniel. He had repulsive, grease-laden hair, was rude to no-one except Joe and was able to grind your self-esteem into nothing despite not possessing even the slightest trace of a single brain cell. The next ten minutes were a complete blur of emotions, brutal kicks and attacks and torrents of words which when combined with all the other factors dragging Bailey's life down, caused him to stumble into the grungy, tiled bathroom gripping his broken headset in his left hand and reaching into his interior blazer pocket with his right. His fingers grazed against a familiar razor sending sparks through his body but not the good kind. He didn't think the day would deteriorate so quickly. And he daren't think of what Nathan, who was away until lunchtime, would say. He pulled up his sleeve and pressed the blade in enough to cut the skin but not enough to draw blood. He hastily drew it away, focusing the pain he had inside into something physical. People couldn't just disregard the grim thoughts he was having as hormones then. Blood gushed over his arm covering scars, fresh and fading and all the red puffy flesh surrounding the newest of blemishes. Whatever blood he had left inside his body rushed straight to his head as he was soon woozy and unconscious on the floor, which was probably infecting the incisions. He faintly felt slapping on his face but couldn't be arsed to put up with all the cunts his year had.

Sorry about the darkness. I hope you all enjoyed that. A bientôt, or as the English say, see you soon my beautiful readers!