Dan
I slowly walk out of my house of hell, hearing soft creeks as I close the door. I can see small chipped steps guiding down to a foot path. My slow breathing can be seen in the new winters air, soft mist swirling into grey. My mind ponders around where I am walking too as I take my drifting steps down the stone walkway, almost gliding my feet like ice along the concrete.
Dreading my second hell
I attempt taking in my drifting surroundings, only to be lost in a spiral of uncoordinated thoughts of black. Plain black. I feel the dangling of leather tassels from my crumpling school bag; filled of nothing but stolen pencils and a book of mindless drawings and conversations. My eyes are gazed at my heavy lifting feet, watching my dark shoes scratch upon the concrete, passing endless cars and screeching dogs, although they are not loud enough to overcome the scream of words blocking my eyes, distancing my ears and stopping my throat forcing me to feel a cold lump down it. Almost like being sick
-
My thoughts pause as I look up right, seeing the large brick buildings and cold, cold white windows. I'm interrupted to the sound of an obnoxious ring. School. My lungs let go a sad sigh, almost singing my thoughts. As I walk through the main doors, I feel eyes gazing into my back like lasers'. I'm use to this I think, I don't deserve happy looks anyways. Staring down at my plain black jeans, I see feet quickly scrambling around me, as if I was a celebrity, but in this case a Monster. I make my way to my locker, carefully putting in the pin and yanking it open, hearing the sound of 10-year-old rust creaking from it. I never kept much in this dusty locker, basically just a few pencils and an extra refill of paper in case I ran out. Once I have pretended to grab something and causally close it slowly, trying to avoid creaking. I see everyone has left the Hallways, it was normal for myself to be late being the monster I am. I take one glance back at the locker, only to see small mismatches of blue from the last time it was painted, I thought this place was rich.
-
I stand upright in front of the blue tack infested door, my eyes gaze down to my skinny hands holding my cracked phone. This leads me to my fragile arms, hoping one day they would crack like glass. I hold the grey sleeves of my sweater down to my fingertips, not showing any trace of skin and I aim shakily to hold the cold misty metal of the handle then open the door. All eyes on me, but not in a good way. "Howell your late!" an angry voice approaches me as I take my seat in the back corner, suddenly the sound of plastic meeting wood slams into my desk. "Don't let this happen again!" a voice almost breaking through my chair, I give a small nod with the strength I have left and look down at the floor. His ruler shifting off my tiny desk, covered in scratches from previous visits. This is going to be a long day.
-Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, sorry if it isn't the best quality, it gets better I promise-
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Glass Jar | Phan
FanfictionThis story follows a lost boy. This lost boy meets another lost boy, but this lost boy is different. he is sad, a silhouette to street lamps, unwanted and faked out , but the other lost boy is completely opposite. But maybe if two lost boys find eac...
