Delinquent

1

Lacing up my Chuck Taylors I swung my spiked bag over my shoulder and left the shitty group home I was forced to live in from the age of thirteen, dreading the walk to Hell. Or as the pristine, nerdy kids would call it, school.

Glancing at my watch I took notice I was already five minutes late, continuing to take my time. Like I cared. It's not like I wanted to be there anyways.

Thirty more minutes and I'd approached the front steps. First period was only like twenty minutes from being over so I didn't bother going in. As much as I loved getting those shocked expressions from the goody goody students, I didn't feel like receiving another lecture.

Instead I allowed my feet to drag me towards a group of lockers and took a can of spray paint from my bag, vigorously shaking it and writing the words, 'you'll all fucking rot here' in large letters across the locker doors. I was drawing an exclamation mark to finish off my masterpiece when I heard a deep voice call out to me.

"Hey! What are you doing out here you're supposed to be in class!"

With that my instincts automatically kicked in, shouting for me to run. So I did. My shoes skeeted as I turned various corners in attempt to escape the security guard chasing close behind.

I snuck a glance back and crashed into another guard standing sternly before me.

I swallowed hard with my mouth slightly agape, and bulging eyes.

The other guard blocked me from trying to leave, the two of them grabbing a tight hold on my wrists, lifting me off the ground. I kicked around furiously.

"Get your damn hands off of me," I yelled, anger building up inside of me. I was heated like a fire.

They took me down a long narrow hall and to a door that clearly read 'principal's office. Ugh, great. Setting me down they opened up the door, and pushed me inside. Very rudely I might add.

I scolded them, but they ignored me. Huh, just like my parents always did! Glad to see that never changes.

"We found this one out in the halls vandalizing the lockers."

I've been through this so many times that even the principal was all too familiar to appear even the least bit surprised.

"Mason. I see you failed to take my advice on not getting yourself into this situation." He locked his fingers.

"How's it goin' Tim." I gave a sarcastic smile to which he just sighed.

"We are not buddies. You don't get to call me by my first name," his loud voice boomed throughout the small space of the office. "I warned you about this last time. Due to the trouble you caused, I've had to take drastic measures. You've been assigned someone to watch over you."

"Oh so like a sitter? Or a bodyguard? Well that's fantastic," I feigned excitement, my voice monotoned. "What next? You gonna send me to juvi?!"

"No. But you will be moved to a boarding school." I outwardly groaned at the sound of the words.

"I'd rather go to juvi," I muttered, slouching in my uncomfortable seat.

"The decision is final. Now, you are dismissed home to start packing. There's a taxi set to pick you up at six. Safe traveling."

"Safe traveling," I mocked, storming through the empty halls to the front doors. I legitimately think I've found my eternal hell.