Not Just Another Day

2.3K 76 20
                                    

Ricky's POV

Yeah

Look

Let me tell you

About a kid named Steven

He's slowly runnin out

Of things to believe in

Every couple of months

His mom leaves him

For no good reason

His step-dad beats him

Not too many friends

Only ever had a few of em

But recently

They don't want anything

To do with him

Always eatin lunch

In the bathroom stall

He just wants to feel normal

And be cool again

Yeah

Always feelin like the outcast

He's been goin crazy

Ever since his dad passed

He needs guidance and advice

But instead he only has

Breakdowns and flashbacks

Of the car crash

It's been gettin harder every day

If he was still around

Everything would be okay

Cuz his dad was always the light

At the end of the tunnel

But now the same damn tunnel

Is looking dark and grey

He keeps quiet

In the back of the class

And when the bell rings

Steven hurries home fast

Scared to death

The other kids will kick his ass

On the long walk home

Cuz it's happened in the past

So

He's getting used to

The black eyes and fat lips

But all he's got

Is a fake smile and cut wrists

Wishing he could

Walk right up to em

Show em the scars and say

"Look

You're the reason

That I've done this."

And maybe they

Would finally understand

And things would go back

To how it was before it

All began

But he's just a little different

So they taunt him

And they beat him

Yeah it's all just fun and games

They don't give a damn

His older brother ain't around

In and out of jail

Hanging with the wrong crowd

He's been doing coke

Smoking weed

Getting drunk

All his life

He's ashamed

No he's not too proud

Now his habits are

Rubbing off on his little bro

I threw my pencil across the room in frustration. I had the song perfected until this point, I had no idea what to write after. I checked my alarm clock and saw that it was about time for me to get ready for school.

I tucked my notebook underneath my mattress, as usual, and went to my closet, taking out a plain black T-shirt. I grabbed a pair of black skinnies from my drawer and got changed, since I had showered the night before.

I went into my bathroom and plugged in my straightener so that it would start heating up. While I waited, I brushed my teeth and put on my black eyeliner with black eyeshadow. By the time I was done, my straighener was hot enough to use.

I straightened my hair quickly, then unplugged it and put the device away. I walked back into my room to put a black beanie on, followed by my socks and shoes. I grabbed my earbuds and stuffed them in my backpack, picked up my phone and wallet, then drove to school.

I parked in my usual spot, behind the large brick building, and went inside, trying to avoid people. I darted through the halls to my locker, grabbed a couple things from my locker, and started to head towards class.

I was halfway to my class when I saw Josh Balz and Angelo Parente, and knew I was doomed. I tried to hurry past them, but they saw me, and Balz threw me to the ground.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, punk?" Angelo sneered. "Class." I said firmly, standing back on my feet.

"You didn't ask our permission." Balz growled as Angelo threw me against the lockers. Angelo pinned me in place while Balz punched me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

"Don't need to." I managed to choke out, and was answered with a fist to the face. I felt blood drip onto my chin and knew my lip had been split open. Before Balz could get in another hit, much to my surprise (and relief), he was pulled to the ground.

Angelo released me and I fell onto my knees, clutching my stomach. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" I heard Angelo yell, and he then joined Balz and I on the ground.

A strong pair of hands pulled ne to my feet, and I looked up to meet the eyes of my saviour. It was a guy who was several inches taller than me, with gauged ears, piercings, and captivating honey colored eyes.

He had straightened black hair that came to his shoulders, with pale skin and makeup, including perfectly drawn on eyebrows. "You okay?" he asked me, and I struggled to find words to tell him I was.

"Y-yeah, I'm f-fine." I stuttered. He chuckled at me, and I felt myself blushing slightly. "Good. Name is Chris." he held out his hand for me to shake it, and I did. "I'm Ricky."

Something About You | Cricky | EditingWhere stories live. Discover now