D:
Hello imaginary person in my head. Welcome to my mind. It's hell. You'll have a great time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clouds are swarming the dreary sky, suffocating the little light that is reaching me. It's not surprising that I'm tired, because I always am, but today's especially awful already because my headphones aren't working.
Today's going to kill me isn't it? My headphones are the only thing that keep me sane.
Fuck! Just work already!
A strange whistling sound is released following the brutal smash when I throw the disappointment at the vomit coloured fence.
They're not even hiding the fact that it looks like a prison.
Correction: it is prison. My school is built up of 3 floors, the walls out of decomposing brick. Surrounding it is a spiked fence that I have been thrown against many times- it's almost my second home. Instead of having marks on a wall to represent how much I've grown, I have dents in a fucking fence that represent every year of suffering I've put up with.
The path winding into the hell-hole is swarming with bunches of teens. They all have their own groups:
The rich kids
I'm not rich enough
The nerds
I'm not smart enough
The rebels
I'm not edgy enough
The jocks
I'm not sporty enough
The band members
I'm not talented enough
They all look so happy.
I quickly and quietly dodge my way around them, but I find myself in the way of an even bigger problem:
The populars
Yeah, as if I even had a chance.
I wish I was shorter. I'm 6ft and I stand out a lot more than I'd like to. My chestnut fringe is a way of showing that I don't want to talk to anyone. I read it in a book once. Hiding your eyes implicates that you don't want to be talked to.
I should put that on a shirt. 'Don't talk to me'.
Huh, as if anyone would buy my shirt...
"Howell!"
Oh right, I'm at school
"Look! It's the depressed little shit from next door!" taunts a voice that is all too familiar. It's followed by a chain of laughter.
It's Scott. Aka my nightmare. I've lost litres of blood to him.
I stare, lifeless. Like I said, I don't feel anymore. Any punches he throws at me are welcome and I'll happily lie down and take them. I love gazing at the clouds floating by as the hypnotic trickling that comes from my nose stains my uniform. It's a shit uniform.
"What? You too afraid to talk back? Ooooh. Is it because you know I'm right?"
A chant forms in the background and it seems like all the eyes are piercing my scarred skin. I hate being the centre of attention.
"Die...Die...Die..."
Why does everyone want to join in?
It repeats for what seems like decades. It's being inked into my brain.
"I mean, you do want to DIE? So do us a favour and just do it."
Somehow at this very moment, the sky reflected my deepest emotions. It starts spitting cold, grey rain and soon after it's pouring down. At least you can't see the tears tumbling down my cheek.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a new face. Poor soul. His glasses are steamed up from rain, but I know he's staring right at me. He has charcoal black hair combed to the side and beautiful ,blue eyes that glisten with hope. Only idiots have hope anymore. I lost it ages ago.
I'm a lot of things. But I'm not an idiot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night I still hear it. It echoes in my head like a rattle.
"Die..."
My cracked nails dig into the side of my broken bed. The chequered shades on my bedsheet start to blur together into one shape as a tear drop forms in my eye.
I have no friends. No value . No happiness.
Im Dan. You know, the emotionless kid in the corner. Every scar in my snow-white skin represents a person that wanted to have a go at seeing how far they can actually push me. Because breaking something broken isn't as hard as fixing it.
YOU ARE READING
Perspective
Hayran Kurgu"Hello imaginary person in my head. Welcome to my mind. It's hell. You'll have a great time" Dan hates life. He's a freak. The only things that keep him sane, or alive, are being tugged away from his grip. He has nothing. Phil is the new kid at scho...
