Horrible mess

8

I limp into class, not caring that the teacher was staring at me, baffled and the students were snickering and pointing at me. . I just go to my seat, setting down my stuff before sitting down. I look over, making brief eye-contact with Larry and Ash. I look down, not wanting to say anything. But, with my luck, the teacher started class then walked over to where I sat.

"Sal, sweetie, are you okay? You, um. You have blood on your mask." she asked.

I Touched my prosthetic, feeling some blood on it. I nod towards the teacher, but she didn't believe me.

"Sal, I'm going to take you to the nurse to get it checked out. Do you want anyone to come with us?"

I sigh, defeated. "C-can Larry come?" I whisper.

She nodded, motioning for Larry to come to her. When she explained what we were doing, Larry went and grabbed his stuff and the three of us left the room. It was silent. I hate the silence. I scratch at my wrist, hoping that Larry wouldn't notice. He did. He instantly grabbed my wrist, holding it away from the other one. I sigh in defeat, letting Larry guide me by my wrist.

We got to the nurse's room, instantly the smell of ointment and rubbing alcohol smacked me in the face. I take a step back, not wanting to go into the room. But, of course, I have to.

We go in and the nurse is sitting at her overly organized desk. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and extremely pale skin. She looked up at us and smiled warmly. She looked to young to be a school nurse. She noticed the blood on my prosthetic and her smile went away and was replaced with a frown. It reminded me about a cloud covering up the sun and sending the world below into darkness.

She instantly rushed over, asking me questions such as "Where do you hurt?" and "How are you feeling?". I roll my eyes, hating how enthusiastic she was.

"I-I'm fine." I whisper, refusing to look at her.

Mt teacher sighs. "No, he's not. He limped into class this morning! That is never normal!" She stated, still bewildered.

"B-but I'm fine!" I stutter, feeling panicked.

What happens when they ask me who did this? How do I answer? My dad fucked me up last night and then Travis fucked me up this morning! Who do I tell them did this? Do I not answer?

I was thrown out of my head when the nurse put a hand on my shoulder. That was the tipping point. My vision grew dark as my breath sped up and I started shaking. I start to claw at my prosthetic, bending over as I hyperventilate. That's when the whispers turned to shouting,

FREAK.

LOSER.

SEE? YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!

GO DIE ALREADY!

NOBODY LOVES YOU!

"Shut up!" I scream, covering my ears.

I don't know when it happened, but I was sitting on the floor, my back up against a wall, rocking myself as I curled up into a ball.

I tear frantically at my hair, wanting, no, needing the pain. It grounded me, it always did. I felt warm hands try to pry my hands away from me, but I just push them away, claw at them. I felt the warm liquid of red blood drip onto my hands, letting me know that I had scratched the hands until they bled. I continue to rock as I pull my hair violently.

SEE THAT? YOU HURT EVERYONE AROUND YOU.

YOU ALWAYS MESS UP.

LARRY PROBABLY HATES YOU.

"I know... I know ... please... just leave me alone..." I whimper as I pull my hair harder.

"Sal... please... stop..." came an angelic voice, opening up my world to the light. I look up and make eye contact with Larry.

I sob, reaching up to him for a hug. He instantly wrapped his arms around me, rubbing small circles into my back, whispering sweet things to me.

"Sal, what happened?" The nurse whispered to me as I calmed down.

I look up at Larry, hoping for his support. He smiled, showing me that I had what I wanted. Comfort. Care. Support. I nod, sitting up.

Then, I explained the events that led up to the breakdown, starting with yesterday's nightmare to what Travis did to me this morning. I even included what dad did to me last night and this morning.

The nurse and my teacher stared at me, silent. When I finished my story, they still said nothing. The silence scared me. I looked down, scratching my wrist, but Larry grabbed my hand to stop me.

Soon, the teacher stood up, excused herself, then went into the hallway, taking out her cell. I just curled into a ball and cried. And cried. And cried some more.