Stuck (Frerard)

Emo Kid- Chapter 3

I walked to my bedroom to grab my laptop. I use my laptop to post my drawings and comics. That's how I make money. That's how I'm able to afford this cheap apartment in Belleville, New Jersey. I posted a few comic strips online before I heard a crash. I roll my eyes, already knowing what it is. Nearly every single morning this happens.

There's some kid that gets beat up in the alleyway outside my apartment. This time it's different though. This time, I'm tired of hearing the yelling of the bullies and the cries of the kid. How does a kid get beat up almost every day? It's ridiculous. I would just run, or take another way to school.

I in no way empathize for the kid being beat up though. How stupid is that kid for walking the same way to school everyday? I should empathize for him, because I was him once when I still did school, but then I used my brain and bought a cheap room at the age of 16. I'm 17 now. I know it's not legal for me to live here, that I'm a minor and whatever, but I made it work.

Technically, my parents are paying for it, but I give them the money for the rent and whatever. The people owning the complex think my parents live here and just aren't home often. I'm here because I'm a high school drop out. The bullies worsened my already suicidal mind and things got real bad. My parents never really cared what I did, so they agreed to let me live here.

I growl and walk up to my front door, pulling my leather jacket on partly because it's cold, late September, and partly to hide my arms. I take the stairs down to the main floor, getting looks from the person at the front desk. I looked downwards as I walked, letting my hair cover my face. I never leave my apartment unless I'm getting food, cigarettes, or medicine. I haven't been outside in a while, and I don't like it. The air smells like garbage and it's noisy. The cars are too loud. But, I came out here for a reason. To stop all the fighting that breaks my concentration from my work.

I walk on the side walk to the alleyway. There are a few dumpsters, one has a kid curled up in a ball on their side while a group of boys, about 5, punch and kick them. The poor kid. Am I actually feeling bad for them? No. I don't need to get attached to someone.

I stopped in front of the high school boys. They looked like they were Seniors, my age. I waited with my head down, hair covering my face, and hands in pockets for them to notice me. One boy did, and he walked close to me

"What do you want, emo?" He spat loudly in my face. I growled softly and looked up at him. That's when I realized I didn't have anything planned to say. That's the problem with me. I have to plan out everywhere I'm going to say ahead of time. Even simple things, like what I'm going to order for food. I have severe social anxiety.

"I, uh. You guys are right outside my window and you're making a ton of noise. Don't you punks have anything better to do with your time?"

By now, all the boys stopped kicking the kid on the ground and turned to face me.

"And just what are you gonna do about it, fag?" Another boy shouted at me. I winced at the slur. I've been called that too many times.
Now, normally I'm not a violent guy, but this one kid was really pissing me off. I pushed the boy in front of me and made my way to the one who had called me the- you know. That word. I shoved him hard to the ground. Other boys around him were silent, not daring to help him. There was silence for a second before someone spoke up

"Hey man, let's get out of here!" I turned around to see all the boys leaving. When I turned my head back, the kid I shoved to the ground was gone too. Now there was only the victim. A short boy curled up in a ball on the dirty ground, both arms around his stomach. His face was bruised badly, but was still tinted pink from crying. He had his eyes shut tight.

I kneeled down in front of him. I was about to reach out and touch his shoulder, but I stopped and dropped my arm before I could.

"Um," I cleared my throat, "You good?"

What a stupid thing to ask the clearly miserable boy in front of me. He opened both eyes slowly, and I noticed how beautiful of a color they are. A green and hazel mix. Absolutely gorgeous. I'm suddenly glad I showered today.

No, no, no, no. I am not getting a crush on a random boy. I am just here to stop the loud sounds so I can work in peace. That's it.

He scrambled to stand up, but he could only get halfway to his knees before wincing and grabbing his ribs. I stood up from my knees. I didn't say anything as he successfully stood up, said a soft 'thanks', and then ran off. I honestly don't know what I expected. Did I think he was going to say, "You saved my life!" And then rush into my arms?

I gotta stop assuming everyone is gay like me.

I have romantic fantasies about what could happen between me and almost every attractive guy I see. This kid isn't any different, and I'm just going to forget him within a few days.

I walked up back into my apartment and sat down, trying to focus on my work for the rest of the day.