We Don't Need Another Twilight [On Hold]

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own the cover image or the Twilight Series. I apologize to anyone who likes the Twilight series, it is just for plot convenience.

Aleks opened his locker with yet another sigh. Scrawled across it in sharpie were vulgar words and pictures, mostly stupid and loser. Glaring slightly, he mentally questioned as to when when his tormentors would ever learn new words, or anything at all.
Opening his locker, he tossed his binders into the bottom and pulled out his tattered black backpack, held together by duck-tape and staples. He also picked up a folder and his textbooks, which were in the same condition. He put those in his bag and slung it over his shoulders, putting his hood up in a practiced movement so that it obscured his face as best as it could.
He quickly but stealthily made his way out the front doors of his high school, trying not to get noticed. Luckily, he made it out without incident and to his black Toyota pick-up. It had been a gift from his brother before... things happened... and he loved it a lot. He took care not to wreck it and washed it by hand. Getting in, he turned his key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot cautiously. Aleks wasn't the bravest person, which was obvious considering his treatment, but sometimes he found himself being too paranoid for it to be normal. A few minutes later, after listening to Get Scared, Buried Alive on the radio, he arrived at his apartment.
Aleks' parents worked abroad in Europe as Consultants, so Aleks had an apartment all to himself. In most cases, it would be a good thing, since he could do whatever he wanted. But Aleks had been shunned by his parents ever since then and was given only enough to live on. His flat had only a few pieces of furniture and decorations, but it was home, and home was good.
He set his backpack by the couch and hung his jacket on a hook by the door. After removing his black Adidas shoes, he went to the bookshelf in the living room and pulled out a small paperback with a river on the front. The book had no title, but he reread it often enough to know that it was one of his favourite books. He laid back on the couch, enjoying the comforting scent of leather, and proceeded to lose himself in the book's pages.
This was only one of the reasons Aleks got pushed around. His passion for words was obvious seeing as how he always had a book on him, and was favoured by all of the teachers.
He was also quite short, standing at five feet and two inches, and wore black Prada glasses. His frame was thin and marked with a few cuts and bruises from recent encounters.
Though he didn't look like it, Aleks was pretty strong and agile, and could take most kids his age on in a fight and win. He didn't though, and resigned himself to let the put downs continue so that he wouldn't harm anyone.
His brother says–...used to say that he was stupid in a playful tone, showing up the next day to warn people to back off. But that was before. Now, Aleks stood alone and took it, telling anyone who cared enough to ask that he was just clumsy.
It was lonely, and he longed for it to end, but he was to the point of not even trying to care. Looking up from his book, he blinked to see that the clock read 8:36 Pm. He hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. Reaching toward the receipt he used as a bookmark, which was laying on the table, he marked his place and got up to put the title-less book back.
Going to the kitchen, he scrounged around in the fridge for any leftovers of the pasta he had cooked two nights ago. Seeing as it was empty, aside from the few water bottles he had restocked that morning, he sighed.
It was a Wednesday, the last one of the month, so he had to save as much money as possible until the next check from his parents came, which would probably be the following Monday. He only had enough money to buy three more days worth of food, so he had to wait until Friday to get anything else.
He sluggishly staged himself to his bedroom and changed into his sleepwear, grey sweatpants and a loose white shirt. The light switched was flipped, and he hoped he would actually sleep before his alarm went of at 7.

To Be Continued...