Prison bars (complete)

Are you crazy?

Hey. So this is my second story. I hope I can work on this and the other story. But if I don't update for a while, I'm either busy or working on my other story. So sorry. But anyway, enjoy the story!

Midoriya POV:

I woke up with the sight of my grey walls. They used to have All Might merch, All Might is the best actor out there, but I gave up on trying to be like him. I knew that I couldn't. I was just too me.....

My name is Izuku Midoriya, son of Inko Midoriya. I don't know my dad, he left before I was born. I am not the sweet, innocent boy everyone thinks I am. After Kacchan, my childhood best friend, got arrested, I became more and more angry. He was sentenced for life after killing several kids. I don't know the full story but I don't need to. Anyway, I am a small-time thief. I steal small things at the store and stuff like that. My mom is always busy so I don't have anything to do at home. So I write in my notebook. Some think I'm obsessed with acting or that I'm an artist, but no. I write down plans. Plans like who I may want to kill later in life, where I want to steal next, stuff like that. I also write notes to my mom just in case I get caught and sent to juvie before I kill her. My mom, of course, doesn't know that I do this. But that is what ticks me off. I am so obvious, yet she is always too busy to care or even think to see what I'm doing. I just want her to acknowledge me. It's like I'm nothing to her. And that is why she is on my list. So many people are. Like the people who bullied me in junior high, Kacchan's mom, she doesn't even fucking care that her son in in juvie, my teacher, and endeavor. I hear on the news what he does to his son. But I am going to let his son take care of him....

I hope the world is proud what it did to me.

I'm so full of anger and hatred. I just want to go on a killing spree right now. But I know I can't do that. I want to save my first murder for mom. She is too special to be looked over.

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

I flinched and looked over to my alarm clock. I hit it angrily and stood up. I sighed and walked over to my closet. I went through my clothes. I used to have bright and cheery outfits but now I always wear dark outfits. Like a hoodie and beanie with skinny jeans, all in the tone of greys and black. You never know when you want something at a store, so I gotta stay down low and unnoticed.

I grabbed my black hoodie and skinny jeans. I walked to my bathroom and stared at the walls.

They were covered in knives and other random things. Sometimes when I'm so angry, I have such a need to kill that I slice my own skin. I know that sounds suicidal but I do it only for the pleasure of seeing blood. I enjoy it. I grin psychotically and pick up my small pocket knife. I examine it in front of my face and smile more. I chuckled and placed it on my bare stomach. I sliced once and laughed. The crimson color of my blood sent shivers down my spine. I put my knife down and cleaned my cut.

I put on my outfit and stuffed my pockets with things I'll need, including my pocket knife, a pack of cigarettes (for stress relief), and a lighter. It is the weekend, so I don't need to go to school. I barely go anyway. I get yelled at a lot by Mr. Unisho, but I could care less. Mr. Unisho is my 9th grade teacher, I hate him. He is on my list. He sees what the bastard group of kids do to me and does nothing about it. He makes me so angry.

I walk out of my house, locking the door behind me. I pull a cigarette out of the box in my pocket and light it. I took in the burning sensation that it sent, then released a huge cloud of smoke. This continued as I walked to the convenient store at the corner of the street, a couple blocks away from my apartment. What if today, I killed everyone I saw? No one has noticed me before, why would they then? I smiled at the thought of being covered in the blood of my victims.