Internal

Chapter 1

Loner, that's what I am usually called. I'm a mix of atheism and rock solid asshole. Im glad I'm alone. And there is a fine line between loneness and choosing to cut yourself off from people. Loneness means you can't make friends, you'll never succeeded, the world fucking hates you and everyone despises your wellbeing. I chose to cut myself off because all of those reasons hit me all at the same time. I feel like I am more at peace becoming a sadistic prick. People leave me alone...I leave people alone. I call it the bee effect, a bee won't sting unless threatened.

Unfortunately some metaphorical "honey badgers" like to attack my nest. Like Dakota Miller, he's your ideal jock. Football and Hockey are his strong suits. Also picking on the the weaker and less popular. His I.Q is pretty low when it comes to geometry or English but rivals mine to snarky comebacks and smartass remarks. I don't know what I did to piss this guy off, but I'm glad at least someone hates my guts. It's true that most people don't care weather I off myself or continue living. But somehow this cocksucker of a human being wants to make my living hell of a life more of a living hell.
At least I have my mom. My crazy, alcoholic, sometimes suicidal mother.
As if I haven't known the comfort of a normal family. My father was always abusive towards me and my mother and when I was 13 he finally just left, without saying goodbye. Without helping my mom up when he punched her to the ground and knocking me to the ground to help her.
I am weak, I couldn't protect my mother when she needed me most, I guess that's why I need to be alone, to save the ones I love.

Chapter 2

My eyes are closed. Heavy breathing and soft whispers are all I hear. " Didn't you here me freak? I said what the hell did you call me?" My shirt, twisted by his grasp as he tried to strangle me with my own shirt. My feet only dangling mere millimeters off the ground.
"Didn't you here me douchkota? I said quit acting like such a farmhand you fucking Ritter. You lousy brained, ass munching-" I was suddenly thrown into the lunch table, hearing part of my back pop and as gravity took me down with it my head slammed against the edge of the table which had moved a few inches now. The people standing by became silent, and a few pulled out there phone's. "Next time you decide to fuck with me Kalub, I won't just push you."
He spat on me, and him and his cronies left. Some kids laughed. Some just stood there and tweeted about my ass whooping. No one helped me up.
"Farm hand Kalub?" A voice said behind me. I picked myself up, rubbing the back of my head where the table slammed into me
"Yeah? What of it."
The man who I now realized was my art teacher Mr. Daniels who reached out his hand to pull me up
"You really need to know when to pick your battles."
I scoffed and slung my backpack over my back, feeling the throbbing pain on my back and head that was slowly dying.
"You sure your not teaching "pointing the obvious"?"
He looked around and whispered
"You've could have done better k, honestly, farm hand?!"
I couldn't help but laugh. He was the only one who got it. The fact of how this asshole acts.
"Should have known why he moved away, he would have beaten me into a bloody pulp on the ground if no teachers were around."

"Well I guess I kinda just saved your life." He put his hands behind his head and shot me a cocky smile.

"Whatever man, you act like I owe you my life." I said sticking my hands into my black hoodie.
And again he shot me the cocky grin but he turned and started walking away

"Tell my sis that I love her when you get home k." He said not looking behind him at me.

Jackass...

I put my headphones in. Hearing nothing but American Idiot.
"This has to be the best album of all time." I thought to myself and, for the first time all day, I smiled.

Chapter 3

I was walking home, or whatever home was. My mom was constantly drinking and so that ment my house was almost always a wreck, my grass was over grown, weeds grew up on our house and it looked like a crack house just by the influx of plant life surrounding it.
My door creaked and to my non-amazement my mom layed passed out on the couch with the Grey goose in her hand.
I managed to pry it from her hands and a slight groan was uttered from her mouth as I took it into my room