After a few hours of restless sleep, and multiple notes written, my familiar "Wake up you stupid idiot" alarm on my phone sounded. I pushed my wheely chair out from under my desk, and stood up. My hands instinctively moved to wipe invisible dust off my pants and shirt.
When I mustered enough courage to look myself in the mirror, I was still disgusted. The bags under my eyes only seemed to get darker, and my skin was a sickening pale color.
Once the tears started welling in my eyes, I looked away and wiped them.
A few hours earlier I had already dressed, and earlier than that I had eaten an egg and a half.
I stood there for another moment or two, then grabbed my bag, and stormed out of my house.
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Once I made it to the bus stop, my legs were tired, and I already knew my pits were stained. My neck started to hurt from looking at my feet, so I did a rational thing, looked up. And god that was a mistake.
That fucking Red head was there.
I scowled, and looked around in amazement, and disgust, maybe it was someone else.
When the kid spotted me, he thre his hand up and waved at me.
Well, this is real shitty.
YOU ARE READING
Cutting Paper with a Knife
Romance[GORE, AND DEPRESSION TRIGGERS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS] Izaya Black, a seemingly normal boy with a horrible guilty pleasure. He writes death notes. Death notes to random people he met or saw walking on the street about how he'd kill and torture them, it...
