Dancing with death threats.

14 4 0
                                    

Jacob's POV

*"You're so pathetic. A boy, too skinny to do anything but dance like a girl. Surely you're gay by now?" "Ugh, you're worthless, what's the point in you being alive if you can't do anything with your life?"*

I stumbled and the music stopped. "Take five everyone." Madam Gypsy called in her thick, silky accent. "Is everything alright Jacob? You seem a bit, distracted. Is it about the production?" Gypsy rested her hand on my shoulder. Forcing a smile, I shook my head. "No Madam, I'm just a bit...stressed about homework." Lying wasn't my strong point, but I refused to trouble someone as sweet and beautiful as Madam Gypsy with my troubles. Worry creased her brow. "Jacob," she began. "I'm serious, it's fine." I placed my hand on hers. What are you doing?! My face grew hot and I took my hand away faster than I could blink. Gypsy giggled and resumed her place at the front of the room. "Alright, into postion everyone."

>>>>><<<<<

Slumped in a chair at the table, I toyed with the spaghetti in front of me. "Jake, why aren't you eating?" My dad's voice dragged me from my clouded thoughts. "Not hungry." I mumbled, pushing away from the table and trudging toward my room. I let out a sigh as I collapsed onto my bed. ...you're worthless... Voices echoed through my head. I turned over and laid with my face in my pillow. I'm tougher than this. I shouldn't be crying. Sleep soon falls gently over me and I can't resist the chance to escape from reality.

*I walk down a hallway and into an empty room. Empty of people, but not of words. Death threats ring in my ears and stain my mind as I begin to dance to the harsh, depressing melody they provide. Tears fall like snowflakes in winter and all I can do is dance. Sadness melts into stress and the edges of my vision blurs as I collapse in an exhausted heap. My chest rises and falls with each pant. The voices quiet down and I hear my own thoughts screaming at me to get up and fight. My eyes flutter to a close as I think to myself, "I'm too tired to continue."*

The Six Of UsWhere stories live. Discover now