Don't Cry ➳ a.i

[one]

I've been cutting for about a year now. I'm 16. My name is Taylor, but people call me Tay Tay or just Tay. There's an extreme amount of bullies at my new school. Some of them I don't even know... they just come up to me and insult me. I have a passive personality... I don't say anything back to them. My parents were murdered after being held hostage at the bank for 3 hours. My mom and I had fought just before she left, and ever since then I started cutting. I live with my grandparents in Los Angeles, California now.

"Ewww." someone plugged their nose as they walked past me. I didn't smell bad, they just did that to the new kids.

Someone pulled out a gun in the middle of the hallway. Everyone scattered except for me. I stood there, frozen, not able to move, by my locker. He held the gun up to his head, and shot himself. I collapsed to my knees.

The world started spinning. I fell to the ground completely. Things got blurry, but I could still see police men standing by the dead body. They rushed over to me and checked my pulse. One of them picked me up.

That's the last I remember before waking up in the nurses office. My grandmother sat by me, stroking my hair.

My eyes were focused on the boy behind her. He had blondish-brown hair, a red bandana wrapped around his forehead. He was in a muscle tank top with faded words on it. I was too far away to read what they said.

"Well, you don't have a fever." the nurse said, pulling the thermometer out of his mouth.

"It sure feels like it. I feel to bad to focus. I think I'm gonna go home." He said.

Once he walked a little closer, I could see him clearer. It was Ashton Irwin. He was probably just blowing school off to go hook up with some girl- that's what he was known for.

He finally persuaded the nurse to let him "go home" and he strutted out.

-

I was sent home because of the thing I had experienced earlier.

"I've signed you up for group therapy." My grandmother said while she headed home in her old car.

"Grammy, I don't want to go." I told her calmly.

"Well I want you to." her voice raised and calmed down again. "Your always distant. In your room. You've been here for a year now, and you have no friends. Maybe the group thing will help you make some."

"Fine." I sighed. I knew that arguing with her was useless... I always loose anyway.

Today was a Friday, and she had set me up for a class every Saturday. These people were supposed to have had traumatic experiences like me. I didn't really know how bad they were, but I guess I would find out.