My entry, though It's not fanfiction!
"Get out of here, loser." The words roll off my tongue, stinging it with guilt. My right arm trembles and I extend it and push the girl aside, whispers of my fellow students flowing in one ear and out the other. I didn't ask to be like this. I just...am. I continue walking, the echo of my black flats flowing throughout the halls.
"Um..." I turn as I spot a seventh grader staring at me with a mix of utter fear and anger. "Um...y-you shouldn't have done that."
I hear a wicked laugh escape my lips, one that I know does not belong to me, but instead the demon living inside. "Is that so? And why should I care exactly?"
The young boy puts his hands on his hips defiantly. "Because she did nothing to you."
"Maybe so," I respond smartly. "But she was blinding me with her ugly." My left eyebrow arches as a devious smirk forms on my face.
The boy continues staring at me, though his expression is of surprise rather than anger now. "Y-You're not really like this." He states.
My smirk returns. "What's your name?"
"Andrew. And you're stalling. You're not really like this at all." Andrew takes a step towards me. It's timid, but It's something.
I try my hardest to ignore how pale my skin is getting. "I don't know what you're talking abo-"
"Something happened to you." He interrupts. "You were a nerd, just like me, weren't you?"
"No. You're crazy. Where'd you come from, fag?" Again, the pain returns to me. I hate insulting people like this, but it's all for revenge.
"I-I mean...you think I'm crazy, but I understand you."
"No you don't."
"Yes." He cocks his head. "I do. I cut myself. You cut others. If you think about it-" The bell rings, making me jump. Andrew stays calm, but he's staring at his scarred arms now as I turn to walk to class, hoping to get away from this freak as soon as possible.
"Wait!" He calls, raising an arm. I pivot, pursing my lips.
"What do you want?"
His face flushes. "I just want you to know," He takes a deep breath. "We're alike, if you think about it."
His words echo in my mind, all the way to class.
And the next day, as I scan the newspaper, I spot something in the local obituary. "Andrew Rollins..." I mouth silently, eating a spoonful of cereal. The tears stain my face on the way to school. When I get there, everyone's staring, but I don't care. Because on my cheek is a smiley face, along with three words. Loser at heart.
posted 1 year ago. ( permalink )