The Band Dude

Chapter 5

I avoided Oliver after that, although it was impossible to abate my curiosity about how his family had turned out over the course of the last ten years. I couldn't help but think that maybe things weren't going to well for the grey eyed boy.

It had been three days since I will talked to my Mum about Oliver, and I hadn't bothered him. It seemed as though my friends were beginning to notice, and were creating a plan to provoke him.

"Maybe we could spread stuff about him?" Jolie smirked, " Make stuff up about why he moved schools. And other things of course. "

"That's a bit mean," Savannah said piteously, " But I suppose he does need to be taught a lesson."

Aurelia smiled menacingly," maybe it's not lies we need to spread. Maybe it's the truth."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eden questioned.

"He always has a notebook in his bag. The same one every time.  I bet you anything that it's filled with his stupid little emo thoughts. Maybe we can really break him. If we're lucky, he might even kill himself."

"Aurelia!" I snapped in shock," That's too far! D'you really want to be responsible for someone dying?"

"Jesus, Brooke," Aurelia rolled her eyes at me, as though I was the one being Than ridiculous, "It's not like he's actually pathetic enough to do that. And even if he did, it wouldn't be on our heads. It'd be his own fault for being weak."

"This is pointless," What are we even going to gain from this?"

"The idea isn't what we'll gain," Jolie assured me," It's what he'll lose."

"And as it was you he disrespected," Aurelia leaned forward, running her tongue delicately over her lips," You'll be the one to snatch his notebook, tommorow. Right?"

I wanted to say no. I wanted to explain to them that Oliver probably already had a difficult home life, and that it would be ruthless to make him even more miserable at school. I really did want to make them realise that it would be our fault if anyone that we had ever teased killed themselves because it would have been us that made them so unhappy that it just wasn't worth living anymore. And I wanted them to understand how cowardly it was to spread things about someone that none of us really knew.

But with the expectant faces of the four of them waiting for me to cave and agree, I just couldn't find it in me to say no, it was wrong. I just nodded mutely, and agreed to meet them the following morning to arrange the details of our plan.

As soon as they had left my house, I pulled on my fluffy pyjamas and curled up on my bed, my room dark side from the glow of the fairy lights, and with music playing softly, wishing that I knew how to stand up for what I thought was right. My family knew better than to disturb me, so I was left alone with my thoughts, and it hurt more than In could've known.

                                                                                            •••
It was first lesson. I knew exactly what to do. The plan was set. Oliver was seated in front of me, his bag dumped on the floor, and, to my advantage left open. He was concentrating on whatever it was he was writing, so it wasn't difficult for me to slide my hand into the dark coloured bag and remove the book, with the worn, frayed pages.
I sighed with intense relief when he didn't turn, although his hand began to scribble down words even faster than before.
I shrieked as a tight grip was suddenly pressed onto my wrist, and it terrified me when I saw that I was being hold onto by a think, boney woman, with translucent skin and sunken eyes. In her other hand, she held a half empty bottle of whiskey which she kept swigging.
"You're disgusting," She jeered at me, swallowing another mouthful, "Scum. Why are you even here? I don't even want you here and I'm your mother."
Upon finishing her sentence, she tossed the whiskey bottle, and it collided with the desk that Oliver was sat at. He flinched, and suddenly turned around, taking his sheet of paper with him. I screamed again when I saw that his hands were covered in blood. The paper was soaking it up, and was soon stained.
Oliver held up the writing for me to see, and it was all the same sentence, the words 'Help Me' repeated over and over again, whilst I screamed and cried that I couldn't, that I didn't know how. He began to mouth the words over and over to me, until they were rolling round my skull. It was painful, oh so painful, and I wasn't strong enough to take it.
Then the girls appeared, and began to laugh at me and my helplessness.
"You can't help him. Why are you even trying?" Aurelia spat venomously.
"Why are you even trying?" Savannah repeated.

I woke up trembling, and for the first time in years, I just wanted to stay at home and be comforted by my mum.

Sorry this chapter took so long. This is the third time I wrote it, and although it's very short, I'm posting it before I lose it again.
Also, these are not my views on bullying and suicide. I just wanted to highlight Aurelia's personality. Please don't take offence.