Scrutinize

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Time can be rewritten. -The Doctor, Doctor Who

Words.

Oh, man, the power of words.

Every. 

Pineapple.

Triangle.

Champion.

Twenty-seven.

Words are power. Words can build people up, knock people down, and ruin people to the point that they hurt themselves in many different ways. I should know. My sister and my best mate are bullied, and I was. 

Words: so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. Oh, Nathaniel Hawthorne. I am quoting you now, too.

As you now know, I was bullied. I, who goes by the name of Will because he hates his birth name, that isn't truly a name, a spirit, was bullied. I was bullied more than Zane was, with his raggedy clothes and flaming hair. I was bullied more than Jane, with her short height and dark hair that was always in her face.

Other than that, I was practically ignored by everyone but my family and Zane. I was ignored more than Eleanor, who doesn't like to go out to the mall or have a social life because her friends practically act like she is like me: practically non-existent.

I visited my father today, and my grandfather tagged along with me. He had an oxygen mask on, and was apparently in a coma. He was shot twice in the chest, once by his upper left shoulder and the other nearly in the dead center of his heart. The doctors hate to say it, but they don't think he'll last the night.

I might as well tell you about the night I died from a police officer's perspective.

He was driving nowhere, just kind of coasting on the highway at fifty miles per hour. People passed him as he just sat in the right lane. None of them thought something was wrong in this boy's mind as he drove, an old, beaten-up Subaru Outback to be precise, down the highway. Most thought he was still learning to drive, as he was going ten miles under the limit. 

A cop pulled the dark-haired boy over. He gave him a ticket the boy would never be able to pay. He saw the sorrow in the boy's eyes that once might have been bright with happiness and alight with joy. All that was left of them was a dull color and deep sadness that no one would be able to fix. Yet, the man did nothing and allowed the boy to go with only a ticket and a reprimand.

They believed I was intoxicated. I wasn't. I was as sober as a boy can be. I was allergic to alcohol, so I don't know why in the world they thought that. They then thought that I had taken some drugs. The results? Negative.

Finally, they went to the only conclusion they had left to assume as they pulled the car out of the ditch the car and he fell into.

Was it suicide?

They were exactly -

Challenge: comment what you think Will looked like! At four descriptions, I will update again. Amazing new cover made by @ PettersenJanne. Check her out!