Squips and Lisps

Why Do I Try Again?

*Third Person POV*

Rich knew he was worthless. He knew he was pathetic, insufferable, annoying, useless. He knew all of this, his dad had been telling him for years, his classmates as well. Because God forbid he ever forgot. 

It was another day of freshman year, another routine of head down and hope you don't lose any more teeth today. Another bruise, another cut, another lie about how he got the black eye that definitely wasn't there yesterday. As if anyone would notice. 

He woke up at 6:00 to get ready. The bus came at 6:30 and he didn't feel like running to school again. He felt around his bedside table for his glasses. They were rounded squares with blueish greenish frames. His vision was one of his personally most hated attributes. If his glasses ever got stolen or anything among those lines he'd be screwed. The boy could barely see about 5 feet in front of him without his glasses on so his life practically depended on them. His glasses weren't even up to date either, they were about 2 years behind so his vision was probably worse than he had thought. Once he turned 14 his dad stopped taking him claiming that he could do it himself and that he was a man now, so he just stopped going. 

He went to his closet to see what he hadn't worn yet. After a few minutes he ultimately decided on a grey AC/DC shirt he had inherited from his older brother, a pair of dark blue jeans that got lighter towards the knee from wear and tear, and a pair of black sneakers he got at pay less. His shirt was from the No Bull tour and it had roses sprinkled on the front as well as a man with a red cape and electric guitar. 

It was the only thing left he had of his brother. After he ran away Rich felt abandoned, it was just him in the small house with his alcoholic father. At least when Fred was there he had someone to protect, comfort, and bandage him up. But now it's just Rich, that's it, the only person he can trust is himself. Well, him and his journal. He'd been journaling for years and had filled about 4 at this point, working on his 5th. They were his only way too get his thoughts out without actually letting anyone know what was happening at home. Cause if someone found out and told the cops Rich's dad would probably kill him, and he wishes that was a joke. 

He found his way to the bathroom where he brushed out the mass of hair that sat on his face. It was dirty blonde and fell messily down to his chin. The left side of his face was always covered by the mass of hair and he honestly didn't mind. He didn't like the way he looked anyway so he had half considered the covered part of his face a blessing. It wasn't like anyone was looking at him anyway.

He was finally ready to go around 6:20. He went back across the hall to his bedroom to grab his backpack. It was 3 years old and dark blue. He had really wanted a purple one but his dad said that purple was too girly and that he raised a man not a sissy or a little girl so the young boy, crushed, wound up getting blue, which was close enough to purple. He threw an old Black Eyed Peas sweatshirt in his bag tugging on the zipper and slinging it over his shoulder. 

The blonde walked out of his room and closed the door as gently as possible as too not wake his father. He was drinking last night and if he woke his hungover dad up at 6 in the morning it'd be Rich's head. He walked down the creaky wooden stairs as gently as possible, stepping over the loudest one at the bottom and continued on his way. He walked past the living room where his dad was passed out in a green reclining chair with light footing as he headed towards the front door. He got to the door and opened it stepping out and closing it with a gentle thud. He locked the door and continued on his way to the bus stop just wanting to have a normal day. 

Luckily he was one of the first people on the bus so if he picked the right seat no one would bother him. He took the short way to the stop and got there right in time to see the bus making its way over the horizon towards him. It stopped in front of him with a creak and a metal screech determining the opening of the yellow doors. He got on making his way towards the middle of the bus. All he needed to do was make it to first period where there was an adult and witnesses. They couldn't do anything to him during first period, he hoped. 

The bus took off again with a bumpy start as Rich plugged in his headphones turning Back in Black on full blast over his 3 year old ear buds. He felt like the only person with wired headphones sometimes but that Michael Mell kid still had him so at least he wasn't alone in that respect. As long as he had someway of listening to music he was gonna be okay, somehow. Music was one of Rich's favorite things cause it was a way he could know that he wasn't the only one suffering. He wasn't the only one feeling this, experiencing that, wishing for something, anything, other then what he had. 

He sat on his own with his backpack in the seat next to him as the other kids got picked up. The neighborhoods just got nicer and nicer making Rich thankful he was one of the first stops on the bus route. Everyone was, at least to Rich's knowledge, picked up. He counted how many kids there are every morning. Keeping a mental tally and hoping that maybe one of his tormentors wouldn't be in class that day yet he felt as if his prayers were never answered. after an hour of being crammed in a bus with a bunch of other high school students they finally arrived at the New Jersey high school. 

All Rich had to do was make it to his locker, then homeroom, how hard could it be. "Hey short bus!" A familiar voice screamed out towards Rich. Harder than he thought apparently. All he wanted was one day of peace, was that too much too ask? 

"What do you want, Jake?" the shorter male asked, already done with everything today. "Oh so we're gonna try and play hero today? Is that what it's gonna be?" Jake asked. That's when every ounce of confidence left Rich's body. He was 5'5 and Jake was a staggering 6'2. That was tall in and of itself let alone compared to Rich who wasn't even considered the average height. "Uhm, well, ya-ya-ya know, on the other hand, m-ma-ma-may-maybe we should jutht, I-I-I-I-I don't know, continue thith later?" Rich stuttered out, his lisp not helping. 

Jake laughed, it was a mix between amusement and anger. "And please, due tell Goranthki," Jake began, emphasizing the lisp, "why should I postpone this wonderful session?" He asked pushing Rich up against the wall of the school building. "Becauthe, haha, clatheth th-th-thta-thtart thoon and I, uhm, haha, wouldn't want you to be late for your firtht period." Rich prayed to god that this would work and he could just run to first block and come up with a plan to avoid this afternoon's beating. 

"Hmm, maybe. You seem to still be a bit sore from last time, but I do know one thing, I definitely didn't give you that black eye. So tell me Rich, someone doing my job. I don't know whether to thank them or kill them cause tormenting you is one of the highlights of my day. Trash like you deserves it." Jake commented practically spitting on the other's face. Rich didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Jake about his dad, if there was anyone's pity he didn't need it was his high school bully's. "Uhm, I got tr-tr-tripped on my way home y-ye-ye-yeth-yethterday and fell on my fathe. You're the only one beating me up I thwear." Rich responded putting his hands up to protect his face just in case Jake wanted to try anything. "Fine Goranthki," Why did Jake always make fun of his lisp, "but just so you know," Jake got incredibly close to Rich, breathing on the shorter mans ear, the hot breath sending shivers down the dirty blonde's spine, "we have an appointment after school. Three o'clock. Be there, or else." 

Jake dropped rich back onto his feet pulling a grunt from the other mans mouth as he walked away leaving Rich shaking in the aftermath. He was lucky to have been spared this morning but he was still going to have to endure a sweet amount of torment this afternoon so what was even the point. Re-adjusting his backpack, Rich made it to his locker throwing the books he needed for the first half of the day into his bag and headed off towards his first period. All he had to do was survive this class and that'd be enough. Surviving the rest of the day? Now that didn't sound as hopeful.

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with a fun Rich angst story cause I'm a sucker for squip angst. Sorry I haven't been updating lately but I'm trying my best. I'm doing I Love Play Rehearsal as a solo for my thespians troupe so I've been a bit busy with that but my competition is in less trhan 2 weeks so I'll try my best to update whenever I can. See ya soon loves!-Shea

Word Count: 1670