I fought through the crowded hallway and attempted to got into my next. Thank God it's last bell, I really don't think I could handle anymore today.
"HEY FAGGOT!" Someone yelled as I was yanked back by my burgundy hair.
"What do you want?" I flinched.
"What do you want?" He mocked me in a whiny voice.
Pulling my hands away from my face I reveal my attacker. It was Justin and his pack of fuckwads.
"Look man. Please just leave me alone... I need to get to English." I stuttered as the tardy bell rang through the empty halls.
Justin rolled his eyes and released his grip on my hair.
Fuck... I'm late for the sixth time in a row..
I quickly rushed into the classroom and took my seat in the back of the dull room.
"MR.DAVIS! LATE AGAIN?" The teacher yelled from the front of the classroom, everyone turned to look at me.
"I-I'm sorry... it won't happen again." I muttered.
"Mmhm. It better not." She hummed as she turned back around to the board and drone on about shit that wouldn't benefit me in anyway in the future. I stared out the window and dreamt of the demise of every single individual in this room.
Time seemed to pass slower than molasses. Finally the bell rang, I was the first out the door. I quickly ran out the doors and began my journey to my house about two blocks away from this prison. I gradually slowed my fast paced sprint down to a walking speed. One more block until I'm home, I could escape into my own little world,maybe write a song or two. But I have to come to terms that SexArt is going nowhere.
A truck slowly drove beside me.
"Hey pretty boy!" He yelled out the window.
I kept my head down and ignored his presence. That seemed to work because after a few seconds he drove off.
As I approached my front door. I fumbled the silver keys out of my tight pocket.
Home at last.
Unlocking the door, I ran upstairs into my room. I tried to avoid that bitch of a stepmom and my dad who is head over fucking heels for that cow. Music is my only way to escape all the bullshit that clouds my everyday life. I opened the door to my room and saw that all my posters were ripped off my walls and lied shredded on the ground. The initial shock hit me harder than any punch I have ever endured. Quickly rushing over to my dresser, I ripped my drawers out and frantically searched for my tapes.
Nothing there...
"JONATHAN." My stepmom screamed from downstairs.
"Give me a second!" I yelled back, wiping the eyeliner off my eyes with the back of my sleeve and some spit. "What do you want?" I questioned as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Looking for something?" She smirked, holding up my Duran Duran and The Cure tapes.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I spoke. "Why were you in my room?!"
"You know we don't allow the devils music in this household, Jonathan." She hissed, ignoring my question. Opening the case she took out the album Pornography by The Cure and smashed it on the ground.
"WHAT THE HELL? STOP." I charged at her, my dad stepped in before I got to her.
"Jonathan, we have some news for you." He spoke. Then grin on her face grew. "We are sending you to.. a Christian boarding school." He kept his gaze on that Kunt.
"WHAT? NO. WHY?" I yelled panicked.
"I read your notebook and I fear for my safety. Along with the tapes and you 'secret' whisky stash. I'm also not raising a faggot. This will shape you into a functioning member of society. You bags are already packed. Get in the car." She snarled.
"Fuck you..." I whispered.
"What was that?" She glared.
I took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes "Fuck. You."
She pulled her hand back and slapped me across the face. "Get in the car, faggot."
Why isn't my dad doing anything?
"NO. YOU DON'T CONTROL ME. YOU AREN'T MY MOM. YOU NEVER HAVE BEEN. I FUCKING HATE YOU." I yelled with tears streaming down my red hot cheeks.
"Jonathan Howsman Davis. Get in the car." My father spoke through gritted teeth.
Oh? So now you say something?
I stood still for a few more seconds, glaring at them with a hate filled look. I snapped around towards the door, swung it open and grabbed my bags. I slammed the door so hard you could hear the house shake and rumble. I threw my shit in the backseat along with myself.
My father and stepkunt soon occupied the driver and passengers seats. My anxiety ignited as soon as the engine did, I buried my face into my hands and began to sob. It was an hour and a half car ride, complete silence besides my cries from the backseat.
We pulled into the large driveway of the school and I unloaded my stuff. This place is huge, how did I not notice the big fucking metal fence? Great. There goes my chance of escaping. I looked for an exit anyway. The inside looked old but it was nice.
Maybe it won't be so bad.
No Justin.
No stepmom.
No more abuse.
Right?
"Davis?" A woman who looked about in her late 40s approached us.
"Yes." My father answered.
"Hi I'm Mrs.Cantrell. I'll show you to your room." She said with a stern look on her face.
"O-okay..." I sniffled.
She waved off my father and stepmother, they left without a word. Not even from my dad. I feel so loved.
I followed Mrs.Cantrell through a never ending maze of stairs and hallways. Stopping at room 94...
