Look

II

Another day in prison.

Prison being my school.

Full of rooms where you learn nothing that applies to you later in life.

I slammed my locker, a scowl across my face.

I slung my backpack harshly over my shoulder.

I began to scan the hallways for anyone.

'No one that would bring me trouble',  I observed.

I might be able to make it to my homeroom safely today.

My trek began to first period, of which was English.

I was almost there until he turned the corner.

He grinned at me.

"Well would you look at that?" he said.

Fear began to bubble in my stomach.

That fear also made it's way to my windpipe, squeezing, hard.

He came over,his friends trailing not too far behind.

"It's the whore." he said sourly.

I turned away, about to grab the knob of the door that lead into some form of safety.

He grabbed my jaw, harshly turning me to him.

I squeaked in response and his grin faded into a devious smirk.

"Your name is so pretty, shame it belongs to something as ugly as you." he said.

His friends snickered and added names onto that,

"Slut"

"Bitch"

"Fat"

Despite how stupid it was, all of this was getting to me.

I finally shoved him off me and went into my class. I quickly walked to the back of the classroom.

I took my seat, the cold plastic touching my thigh. 

I took in a sharp breath in response to the feeling.

But I should be used to the cold.

It's what I receive from everyone else.

Why can't he ignore me?

Everyone is starting to stop ignoring me.

Now they bully me.

They don't see me.

They don't try and get to know me.

They just say this to get under my skin, for no reason.

Why won't they look at me?

Please look at me, look into my eyes.

See what I feel.

Look at me.

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