Running

outside

I haven't introduced myself. I am Henry. I am according to most girls a troll. I have longish hair. Even though I hate to say it, it is slightly like Justin Bieber or according to the girls in my over the top and uniformed school "J.B" or just "the guy" I hate him not because all the girls like him but just because I do not like his music, every time I say that in school I get yelled at in the most stupid way possible with the words "Zomg!" or "No way!" penetrating my ear drums like someones stuffed a cotton bud too far down.

I was never attracted to girls, mostly because they weren't attracted to me, but I think it was mostly because my nose is too big and my eyes are sunk into my skull giving me a look like I'm dead. No girl enjoys my company, to be honest neither do the boys. I've spent my whole life sitting in the same corner eating the same bleak food fantasising about the same girl. Her name is Eliza she has grey hair, she dyes it because she believes that if you dye your hair grey it will make you smarter. She has perfect eyes, they twinkle a little when the sun catches them in the summer and in the winter whenever I see them my soul warms just a little and I feel like I'm ok as long as I can see her. But that changed long ago, Edward her boyfriend doesn't let any "retards" look at her. As if he knows what "retard" even means.

This also added to why I ran, As I walked down the gravel path to the garage listening to the crunch under my feet I relaxed and thought of her. I unlocked my bike, the one thing they got me when I was younger and walked it out. I heard a flick as if someone had turned on a switch. I quickly turned around and saw that my bedroom light was on.

"Where are you Henry?" My mom yelled at the top of her tar coated lungs

"Shit," I muttered under my breath

"When I find you I swear I'll slit your throat!"

She opened the window to blow out some smoke.

"There, There you are!"

I quickly hopped on my bike and sped down the gravel path slipping as I went almost falling. A creak of light shone down the drive as my mother ran out in her tight dressing gown.

She was holding a knife.