Punching Bag

Chapter 3

As i heard the bell go, i realise i stayed in the stall for the whole hour.
I got up and left.

As i walked into my maths class, i felt relieved because no-one in the class had been in my PE one.

As the hour rolled by it got more and more worried.
What if word got out about my bruises, scratches and hickeys?

The bell went and i strolled through the corridor.
For some reason there was no one really in sight and i felt safe for once.

And then.
As soon as i got to my locker.
Bang.
People.

I heard whispers.

"ooh look its pretty boy mccartney the slut"

"gay for your brother, whats next?"

"who was it really, asswipe?"

I couldn't handle it anymore.

I legged it to the bathroom stalls, that was starting to become my only safe space.

As i locked the door and slid down it, i read the walls of the small safe haven.

Lines of,

"bent for his baby brother"

"McQueer"

"Poor Mike McCartney, receiving a blowjob from his sad big brother"

and poorly drawn penises with his name on them.

Then he heard it.

The slam on his door.

"Whos next, slut?" he Heard.

He cursed at himself.

"bollocks."

Chapter 4

"come out, ye fag! we want a word!" said one of them.

of course it 𝗵𝗮𝗱 to be the gang of dickheads.

"dont make us knock the door down, twink!"

still, i didn't respond.

crASH.

the door.

that was the end of me.