Inhaling one last drag of my fag, I ignored the smoke as it hit the back of my throat. You get used to it, after a while, you even begin liking it.
Throwing the burnt out fag onto the wet concrete floor, I crushed it with my foot and made my way into the hellhole, otherwise known as school; the place where you're forced to learn.
As soon as I entered the empty hallways, the stench of perfume, silver spoon perfume, attacked my bloody nose. Fuck, they need to learn to calm it. Yeah, we all know you can afford expensive perfume and we couldn't give two bloody fucks.
It was five minutes later when I finally entered the classroom.
"Reece, nice of you to join us," Mr Hurst proclaimed, glaring at me for interrupting his — from what it looks like — boring lesson. I mean, I know it's only second period but everyone looks dead. Happy early Halloween, I guess.
Ignoring him, I made my way to my "assigned" seat; next to the window in the back corner. I chose it myself, I ain't gonna listen to what this dickhead says and sit where he tells me to. When I first entered this class, I respected him as a teacher but that was before I found out that he's just like the rest; a dickhead. He doesn't give two shits about his students, all that he cares about is his monthly wage.
Break, period three and period four went by without a glitch. I stayed out of everyone's way and they, in turn, stayed out of mine, thankfully.
Fuck, I need a fag and I need it soon if I want to stay in school, for the remaining day, without punching anyone.
Breathing in and out through my nose like a bloody pregnant woman, I began making my way to the back of the school building, the place where students go to smoke. Illegally, of course.
"Help!" someone exclaimed as I walked past the lockers. Halting, my eyes darted to the left and then right. Where the fuck did that come from? "Help!" the same voice exclaimed again but this time, it was accompanied by a banging sound.
The poor fuckers stuck in the lockers. I didn't even know anyone could fit in these.
"Which locker you in?" I asked, hoping for some kind of noise so I could let the poor bastard go and then get a fag. "Oi mate, I swear if you don't make another noise, in the next five seconds, then I'm bloody leaving," I threatened, hoping the poor bastard would at least squeak.
"In here," a meekly voice gasped out.
Scanning the lockers, I walked up to a random one and hit my fist on it. "You in this one mate?"
"Yeah," fuck, the kid probably recognised my voice or some shit and now he's frightened. Nice to know I've got some power in this school.
"What's your locker code?" I asked, typing some random numbers on the keypad.
"Five..."
"And?"
"Six..."
"Fuck kid, I ain't some bloody five year old. Surprisingly, I can fucking remember four numbers! Now, tell me the whole damn thing... in one go!" This kid is seriously getting on my fucking nerves now. I ain't got all day to wait for his sorry ass.
"Five, Six, Nine, Eight."
Entering the four digits onto the keypad, I opened the locker and watched as the kid hopped out. His face was red, probably from being stuck in such a small space, and his hair was all over the bloody place.
"Thank you," he managed to stutter out as I gave him a nod and continued walking.
People in this school are dickheads. I bet it was the jocks who locked him in, mostly likely for entertainment. I can't fucking wait to get out of here and away from these close minded cunts.
Fuck, I really need this fag before I have a mental breakdown or some shit.
~~~
Pulling my black hood over my brown hair, I made my way to the local corner shop. I ain't ate since the day before yesterday and I'm fucking starving. The problem? I ain't got no money.
Shoving my hands into my warm pockets, I entered the shop only to see the shopkeeper half asleep. Well, he's making this bloody easy. There was no ring on the door to alert him of my presence. By the looks of the shop, the ring probably broke and the man can't be arsed to fix it.
Grabbing a few packets of some next level American crisps, chocolates and a bottle of orange juice, I discreetly put it in the carrier bag I had with me. I hate doing this; stealing from people that are just trying to get by but, it's the only choice I have. It's either this or starve to death.
I quickly opened the door as I noticed that the once half-a-sleep man now had his full attention on me. But, luckily, he can't do shit seen as if he chases after me, some other poor bastard will rob his place.
"CJ! What the fuck you doing just standing there?! Go after that thug!" I heard someone scream. Instantly, my shoulders became tense as I heard the fast, pounding, footsteps coming from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed a well built man with his eyes trained on the bag in my bloody hand.
Fucking hell.
Pushing my legs forward, I began running around the alleyways, trying to get rid of the bastard behind me. My hood fell off my head as the wind slapped my cheeks, urging me to go faster. My feet pounded on the wet concrete floor and the bloody rain got into my eyes, slowing me down as I couldn't see fuck all. The darkness didn't fucking help either.
Soon, my lungs started burning and my throat tickled with the need to cough. This is where smoking gets you. Fuck, I really need to try and quit though I don't see it happening anytime soon.
Coming to a stop, I looked over my shoulder to see the man shaking his head at me and walking the other way. Not willing to take any chances, I began running again. I need to create a safe distance between us. He's probably wanting me to stop so he can catch up but I ain't that damn stupid. Contrary to what people believe, I do have a fucking brain. Not that I give a fuck about what they believe but I'm j—
"What the fuck?! Look where you're going mate!" I warned, well tried to but my breathing ain't stable yet. I probably sound like a dying horse.
"You're the one who bumped into me," a voice, that I recognised, softly said.
"No I didn't, asshat!" Where the fuck have I heard this voice before? I don't even know allot of people here so, how could I possibly know him?!
"Yes you did. You were looking over your shoulder," the boy muttered. His voice is like a bloody violin or some soft shit. Does he ever get angry?!
"'Ey, where do I know you from?" I asked curiously, trying to look at his face but seen as the streetlight ain't working, all I saw was the outline.
"You don't know me," he lied. Of course he's lying, he said that a bit too fast plus his voice went a little higher.
"Yeah I do," I muttered, taking out a fag, from the packet that rested against my leg. I placed the fag in my mouth, not taking my eyes off the kid who stood in front of me.
"They'll kill you," he stammered, nodding towards the fag as I lit it.
"Does it bloody matter?" I asked, not bothering to rack my brain anymore. I can't give a fuck on remembering where I know him from. It's too much effort. Anyway, what good will it do me?
Putting my hood up, I began walking to the place that I call home, leaving the kid behind.
What do you think of the story so far? :3
Comments/votes would be appreciated c:
YOU ARE READING
Rebel With A Cause -BOYXBOY-
Romance"They hate me because they don't understand me, yet they don't take the time to get to know me. It used to bother me before but now, I couldn't bloody give two fucks." WARNING: The main character loves to swear allot!
