Closure (Kellic)

Flashback-Present

I didn't know what else to do. After years of suffering, this was the conclusion that I had come up with. From day 1, I've been picked on by my parents, just because I can't be that perfect child they want. I can't make the qualifying grades, I'm not going to the college they want, and I didn't tryout for any sports. I'd walk the halls of the school in black, my hair in my face, and my hood on my head, and silent. I go to my classes, sitting in the back with my head down, and not participating in any discussions. When I'm called on, I just sit there, not answering, and after a couple minutes the teacher would call on someone else. At home, I'd go straight to my room, put my headphones in and listen to music, that's all I'd do. I'd get at least 10 visits throughout the day from my parents, telling me I'm a waste of space, I'm not good for anything, or that they hate me.

Everyday I'd endure that, not to mention the countless times I'm picked on by the football players, cheerleaders, pretty much everyone. Since I'm the different guy at the school, I guess that makes me an easy target. I'm the only one who acts, dresses, and looks the way I do. Getting pushed around through the halls, food thrown at me in the cafeteria, paper thrown at me, I've even been spit on. It's all been just chaos to me, and I wouldn't blame anyone for what they're doing to me. They hate me just as much as I hate myself, and that's why I'm doing what I'm doing. I could care less for what I'm going to do, and they'd probably appreciate me for doing them a favor. The world would probably appreciate it.

Since I had decided everything, this was going to be my last day, going to school, going home, living, and seeing the world. I walked down the long corridors, trying to make sense of why I came. I wasn't obligated to come to school, it was my last day, it wasn't like I was going to get in trouble. Even if I did get in trouble, the punishment would just be a waste. I went into the restrooms, going into the second stall and closing it. I took my backpack off my shoulders and put it on the side of the stall. I didn't want to go to class, so I could just stay in here. I sat down on the toilet, taking my phone from my jacket pocket, unraveling my headphones from around it, before sticking them in my ears.

I played a song from my only playlist, putting my phone back in my jacket pocket, and getting out my sketchbook from my backpack. I took out a pencil and eraser, propping my feet up on the locked stall door, and placing the sketch pad on my legs. I opened the sketch pad, flipping through the pages, looking at the old drawings that I had already made. They were mostly consisted of dark shadows, or deviant styled art. There was one doodle that I was proud of, a big fluffy bunny, he was the one who helped me through everything. Whenever an overcasting shadow came for me, guiding me, I'd always turn to see the bunny. Hoping along, minding his own business, and shaking it's tiny tail. It would sometimes help me get rid of the shadows and help me throughout the day.

I flipped to a blank page, resting back against the toilet, and putting the tip of my pencil on the paper, and dragging it across. I wasn't sure what I was going to draw, I never was, I just drew and would see what would become of it. I don't know how long it took me to draw, but I just drew. It was kind of my point of release. I had indulged in my fair share of different types of self harm, but this was one thing that helped me get through it all. I finished the drawing, dropping my pencil on the bare floor and looking at the sheet. I had drawn a grayish background, revealing a pale, white arm, filled with different scars. One was bleeding, the dripping of the blood a darker shade of gray than the rest of the picture.

I heard the door opening to the bathroom, hearing someone come in. I turned down the music on my phone, trying to see if the person had heard me. I wondered if the person was a teacher, if they saw me, they'd surely force me to go to class, and I didn't want to. I stayed quiet, hearing their footsteps all the way to the sink in front of me. It wasn't just one person though, I heard the door open again, someone else entering. I watched the four feet shuffle around and the two voices begin to speak. I stayed silent, making sure not to make any noise, otherwise I fear there might truly be consequences.