Hollow
Chapter 1
August 14th 2013
I glared down at my untied shoelace as I continued to walk along the sidewalk. I’m being forced to walk to the new school even though it’s farther than the old one because my parents don’t trust me alone with a car, and they shouldn’t.
What I don’t understand is why I’m having to be transferred to a new school. Yes, the last school was hell, but who’s to say this one won’t be any worse? At all of the schools I’ve ever attended, things started out okay, but people always tend to discover something about my past, one way or another, and then I’m back to being a human punching bag. It’ll happen at this school too, and I know it.
I won’t lie and say I miss my old school because I don’t. I’d never miss the people who betrayed me, who hurt me, and who enjoyed my misery. I especially won’t miss them all knowing my secrets, and I definitely hope that this school won’t discover them as well. Regardless, there’s one more year of school left, and Gemma believes I can make it through it. I don’t, but I guess I have no choice but to try.
I finally reached the street the building was on and took a moment to stop and stare at it. It was larger than my old school, and it looked newer and almost modern. Cars crowded it with parents dropping the freshman and sophomores off while other cars were driven by students who were trying to find a place to park in the crowded parking lot. Students walked through the gates with smiles on their faces as they greeted their friends with waves and hugs. A few security guards stood by the entrance, greeting the young adolescents with their walkie-talkies sitting on their belts and their hands tangled together behind their backs.
I looked down at my schedule that I had gotten a few weeks ago at the school orientation. Algebra, English, Music Appreciation/History, and Soccer were my classes for today. I have to take Algebra for the third time, English is the most boring subject, and I don’t even know how to play soccer. My father insisted that I should join a sport so I could make some friends easier, but he didn’t give me a choice in what sport to play. He said soccer would be my best bet because I’d probably get pummeled in football, and basketball was not something he enjoyed watching, not that he’d even come watch me play. Basically, Music Appreciation/History is the only thing I’ll enjoy about this day.
Music is something I turn to whenever Gemma isn’t there. It’s the only thing that makes me feel even the slightest of joy. It’s all I have, really. I can rely on it to calm me down, to fill the hole in my chest, and to help me dream peaceful dreams at night. It makes me feel safe in my darkest hours, and that’s why I feel that if I didn’t have music in my life, I wouldn’t have a life. I probably would’ve ended it long ago. Months ago, I did try to end my life, but that’s because I had this ache inside my heart that I felt even music couldn’t heal. I still have that ache, but music can at least keep me sane for the short period of time that I’m around it.
I took a deep, long breath before allowing my feet to move towards the entrance of the school. It was time to go to hell.
The school is huge, but there's always a staff member in every hallway, monitoring students to be sure they aren’t getting into any trouble. Cameras are in every corner, both inside and outside of the buildings. The security guards are all big, bulky, and tough looking, and while some looked intimidating, others were smiley and giving students high-fives. Overall, the place feels like a prison, but even prisons aren’t safe.
The people in the front office were quite friendly when I asked for a map of the campus. One of the ladies at the desk even pulled out assorted highlighters and matched every course on my schedule with a marked classroom on the map. When they offered to show me around, I just thanked them and politely declined. I am more than willing to walk around on my own, memorizing every inch of the school for places I’ll want to remember for future purposes.
Algebra class was quite embarrassing, in my opinion. When the teacher had asked who the seniors in her class were, I was the only one to raise my hand. No one laughed. In fact, it didn’t seem to matter to any of my classmates, but to me it mattered a lot because I'm already an outsider. Not only did no one speak to me, but I already had no understanding of what we were doing in class. This is going to be a long year.
At break, instead of going outside or to the cafeteria like the other students did, I explored the hallways. Cream colored walls, boring white tiles, and sky blue doors were seen throughout the long hallways of the school. Tall and skinny rectangular windows sat above every classroom door handle for people to peer in and out of. Many of the gaps in the walls held drinking fountains, while others led to the public restrooms. Few glass cases held awards, art, projects, and pictures for display of all the accomplishments and the students and staff they’re proud of. The school is absolutely beautiful, but its personality and the people in it may be completely different. That’s something I have to keep myself aware of.
When the bell rang, I was already sat outside of my next class, English, waiting for the teacher to come unlock the door and let the class in. Mr. Jaffrey is the teacher’s name, and I was half expecting him to be some old cranky guy. The man that showed up to unlock the door was the complete opposite, being a young guy who seemed to be in his later twenties, and he wore an annoyingly bright smile on his face.
“Hello,” he greeted me as he opened the door widely and used his foot to put the doorstop down. “I’m Mr. Jaffrey,” he held his hand out to me as soon as I stood to my feet. I just shot him a fake smile, much like the ones I gave the ladies at the front office this morning, and gave him a small nod. “Uh,” he chuckled nervously and placed his hand to his side. “Forgive me, you’ll have to be patient with me. This is my first year teaching a high school class, so I’m not sure what sorts of greetings you all would prefer. What’s your name?”
“Harry,” I mumbled, looking down as I tapped one foot against the other.
“Styles?” he questioned, and I looked up at him with crinkled brows. “I like to take the time to read through my students’ names in between classes.” I just looked at him blankly and watched as he nervously scratched the back of his neck. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he tried to joke, letting out a short laugh afterwards.
I shrugged. “Nothing’s ever easy with me,” my voice came out in a soft whisper, and I brushed past him to enter the classroom without giving him a chance to respond.
Once I found a desk in the back corner of the classroom, other students began filing into the room, first stopping to shake hands with Mr. Jaffrey and introducing themselves through his instructions. Two loud guys walked into the class, deep into a conversation that had them obnoxiously laughing, and they fist bumped the teacher’s palm without even saying their names, leaving him slightly frustrated. Much to my surprise, one of them took the seat in front of me, while the other took the one beside him. Once they threw their backpacks onto the tops of their desks, they leant towards each other and continued their intense conversation with scrunched up noses and noisy chuckles.
“It was great,” the guy in front of me snorted while running his fingers through his dark chocolate colored hair. “Hunter is an idiot.”
The guy beside him slightly frowned, causing the large freckle on his cheek to lower along with his smile, and said, “I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot, but that is funny.”
“No, he’s stupid,” his friend argued. He suddenly turned in his seat to face me. “What do you think?” he asked with a curious gaze and a toothy grin.
My eyes widened, and I cleared my throat in attempt to cover up my shock. “Um, I uh, I d-don’t know what you said,” I fumbled with my words and cursed myself in my head.
“We have a friend named Hunter, and he-”
The guy in front of me started to speak, but his freckled cheeked friend had cut him off by lightly waving and asking, “Are you new here? I don’t think I saw you around last year.”
I nodded slowly, “Yeah, I am.”
“Well, my names Liam, and this is Jayden,” the freckled guy spoke while pointing to his friend who gave me a peace sign.
“I’m Harry.”
“Cool,” Jayden readjusted himself in his seat so that he was sitting backwards on it. “So did you move or just switch schools?”
“Switched schools.”
“How come?” Liam leaned his face onto his knuckles while his elbow rested on the top edge of the chair.
Shit. I gulped down the lump in my throat that had formed from nerves, “Um-“
“Boys!” Mr. Jaffrey interrupted me. That was a close one. I haven’t even thought up of a lie to tell people about that yet. Liam and Jayden turned their heads towards the teacher and Mr. Jaffrey said, “Ah, I see your game, Mr. Styles. You refused to shake my hand, along with your friends whom didn't even stop to give me a proper introduction like the rest of the class. You think you’re too cool for a class like this, am I right?” What? Who does this guy think he is?
“I don’t know, I don’t speak idiot,” I muttered under my breath, and I watched Jayden block his snickers behind the palm of his hand. He was obviously the only one who heard me since both Liam and Mr. Jaffrey shot Jayden a questioning look before looking at me expectantly.
“Well?” the teacher pushed, but I only shrugged this time. “I would assume so since you wouldn’t speak to me much earlier, as well. You two sitting with Harry, what are your names?” he waved his finger back and forth between the two of them.
“Liam and Jayden, Sir,” Liam pointed to himself before pointing to his friend. “We didn’t realize you wanted us to introduce ourselves before. Sorry.”
Mr. Jaffrey nodded his head while tapping a pencil to his clipboard that he had just picked up from his desk. “Ah, that’d be because your conversation about your friend Hunter was so very important, yeah?” he raised his eyebrows at the two of them. “Clearly the three of you have better things to do than get an education. Why don’t you tell the whole class about your friend? Harry?”
I struggled to find the words as I glared down at my tangled fingers on my desk, “I-I don’t even, um, know him.”
“Yet he seemed to be a topic of interest a couple of minutes ago. Why is that Mr. Styles?” he firmly gripped his clipboard and hung it over his hips while leaning his back against the large whiteboard that was nailed to the wall. I nervously looked around at all of the students staring at me with amused expressions. It’s been awhile since a teacher has humiliated me, and it wasn't something I missed. There was never a good way to handle a situation such as this. I couldn't tell my parents because they’d just fight with each other on what to do about it, I couldn't tell the principal because the teacher would get away with it and go harder on me, and I couldn't talk back because then I’d just get into a bunch of trouble. So I did the only thing I could do in that moment; I just stared blankly at his insulting grin.
“I’d suggest that you don’t have any more conversations in this classroom that don’t involve the subject of English, unless you’d prefer to share it with the class. Am I clear?”
“Well, in our defense, we were speaking English, so...” Jayden trailed off, causing a few people in the class to chuckle, but not Liam. Liam doesn’t look like someone who likes to get into trouble, so that must be why he’s giving Jayden a face of disapproval.
“Speaking about English and speaking English are two different things, Mr. Domki,” the teacher chuckled, “but thanks for clearing that up for us.” He inhaled deeply and clapped his hand against his clipboard, “Okay, Class. We have a lot to go over today, so if Jayden would please turn around in his seat, then we can get started.”
Mr. Jaffrey had us all introduce ourselves, yet again, but this time to the entire class. He had us all stand up one-by-one, say our names, and state a fact about ourselves. Seeming as I was in the back corner of the class, I was the last to go, but that still didn’t give me enough time to think of a fact to present to the room. What am I supposed to say? “My name is Harry, and I spend my free time slitting my wrists,” or even better, “”I am suicidal?” That’s gold right there, surely. The thing is, there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t make anyone think I was a freak. There’s nothing “cool” about me, and there’s nothing interesting about my life.
So when it came to my turn, I said the only thing I could think of, “I’m Harry, and I’m as cool as a cucumber,” all while staring expressionless at my intrusive teacher. That earned me some laughs from my peers, and even our teacher chuckled at my joke. I was thankful he didn’t try to get a real fact out of me.
The rest of class was spent reading over the syllabus, and beginning a discussion about a passage in our textbooks. Jayden kept trying to chat with Liam, but the freckled cheeked guy paid no mind to him and focused on the task at hand. I, on the other hand, would hear everything he had to say because I can never focus on schooling anyways.
Jayden seemed like a cool guy, but I could already tell he was one of those big-headed jocks that I needed to watch out for. Maybe, right now, I’m on his good side, but just wait. Once he knows the real me, his friendliness towards me will be nothing but a memory. Then there’s Liam who I can’t quite figure out. When he first entered the classroom, he seemed like some troublesome popular jock as well, but throughout class, his whole demeanor changed. He became some intelligent, quiet guy who preferred no distractions. He was also nice, but my opinion is based on when he spoke to me in the beginning of class since he hasn’t spoken a word since.
Ring! Ring!
“Alright, class is dismissed,” Mr. Jaffrey clarified, allowing everyone to pack up their things and leave the room.
“Hey, Harry,” Liam cleared his throat to catch my attention while I threw my backpack over my shoulder. “Walk with us, yeah?”
I shrugged, “Sure.”
Liam sandwiched himself between Jayden and I as we walked through the building. He patted his hand against my shoulder blade, making me flinch slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “So why did you decide to go to this school? You never got to answer me.”
“Um, just didn’t like my old one,” I decided to say because it wasn’t a lie.
“Ah,” he nodded, thankfully not pushing the subject any further. “So have you seen the whole campus yet, or do you need a tour?”
“I’ve walked around a bit, so I think I should be good.”
“Alright, well, if you ever need help finding something, feel free to ask,” he grinned and held the hallway door open for Jayden and I to walk through.
Jayden chuckled, “Yeah, we don’t bite. You could always hang around us if you’d like.”
I stiffened at his offer. Things always end up badly when I join people at their tables. “That’s very generous of you,” I forced myself to say, “I’ll have to take that into consideration.”
“Oh, did you already find some other friends?” Liam furrowed his eyebrows. “What are their names? I probably know them.” He didn’t say it in a cocky way, so he just may know everyone at this school, meaning I can’t lie and make up some names. I probably should’ve thought this through before opening my mouth and saying I’d think about sitting with them. There’s never a win-win situation for me.
“Oh, um, I haven’t met anyone else. I just, um, I kind of wanted to just walk around the campus,” I spoke while fiddling with my fingers.
Liam smiled at my words, “Did you want me to come with you? I know where all of the good spots to sit at are, and I know what places you’d want to avoid.”
“Avoid?” I bit my lip nervously.
Jayden nodded vigorously, “Oh yes. Like, pretty much every corner at this school is a ‘make-out’ corner. You’re gonna want to avoid those places because things can get really nasty and intense over there.”
“Good to know,” I spoke my words slowly and somewhat like a question. This school has so much security and cameras, yet a lot of students can get away with sucking face? What else can they get away with? “I think I’ll be fine though.”
“Suit yourself,” Liam laughed at my puzzled expression. He held open the cafeteria door for Jayden and I, and we all walked over to the lines to buy our lunches. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet our friends? They’re just over there,” he pointed to a table in the back of the cafeteria: the biggest table in the room, in fact. I think they must’ve put two tables together because it was so long, and there were already eight people sat at it, three of them being guys. A few of the girls wore clothing so tight that their boobs were practically hanging out. I never understood how people could get away with wearing stuff like that, and I’ll never get why they would choose to wear something like that. Isn’t it uncomfortable?
None of those people would ever want to be friends with someone like me. None of the students in the entirety of the school will want anything to do with me. Eventually, I will be nothing to every single person in this school. Any “friendship” I’ll form will be fake, just like what happened at the last school I attended. Those these two seem nice, I can never be too sure.
“Um, yeah, I’m sure,” I answered while turning back to face the curious boys.
“Okay,” Jayden dragged the word out. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Oh, and Harry?” Liam placed his hand on my shoulder again. Why is he so touchy?
I turned my gaze away from his hand and towards his face, “Hm?”
“There’s a party at our friend Ryan’s house this weekend. You should come,” he stated casually removed his hand from me.
“P-party?” I choked out. Okay, this was new. No one has ever invited me to a party before. I don’t think any of the populars at any school have even interacted with me before. I have no idea what to do. A party couldn’t possibly go well for me at all. Not even this interaction with these two could go well for me. Nothing ever does.
Jayden shot me a weird smile, “Yeah, a party. You know, where people dance, drink, maybe even get lucky? You know what a party is, right?”
“Shut up Jay,” Liam rolled his eyes at his friend. “Of course he knows what a party is. He’s just probably never been to one. Have you?” he questioned me, and he didn’t appear to be judging me by the way he asked.
“Um, no,” I answered softly.
“Well, there’s a first for everything,” Liam grinned. “We’ll give you more details when we see you on Friday. Ryan still hasn’t exactly told us what time it’s okay to go.”
This is not a good idea, but I can’t help but want to go. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of moments. Okay, maybe that’s just for me since I don’t get invited to shit like this, but still. I may never get the opportunity to go to a party again. “You sure your friend won’t mind me coming?” I breathed out.
Liam's smile grew from ear to ear, “Nah. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“For sure,” Jayden nodded.
“THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T WANT YOU MOVING IN!” I heard my mother screaming as soon as I walked into the house. I’m home, I thought, not that you care nor will you even notice. I walked straight towards the stairs, not even bothering to get a snack like I had intended to do when I got home. I’d rather not see what’s going down in the kitchen.
I heard the sound of glass shattering into pieces, a noise I have grown quite accustomed to. There it is. “CAN YOU EVER GO A SECOND WITHOUT THROWING SHIT AT ME?!” my father blew up on her.
That was the last thing I caught them say before I shut the door to block most of the noises out. Yelling could still be heard from downstairs, but nothing was coherent enough for me to understand. This was just another regular day with both of my parents in the house. I’m surprised my mother hasn’t gotten enough aim practice with all of the glass she’s broken to actually hit my father.
After throwing my backpack onto the chair by my desk, I snatched my headphones from my end table and plopped onto my bed. I pulled my phone out and sent Gemma a text to let her know I was at home and that I was okay before plugging my headphones in, allowing music to fill my ears and completely rid myself of hearing what was going on downstairs. I opened up my end table drawer and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and my lighter in which I don’t even bother hiding since my parents hardly ever come up to my room.
I set the cig between my lips and lit it before tossing the lighter back into my end table drawer, closing it, and flopping my backside down on the bed. I inhaled deeply, allowing smoke to fill every crevice in my mouth, and then I formed an o-shape with my lips, allowing the smoke to rise into the air as I pulled the stick away from my lips. I watched the dark cloud slowly float away into nothingness, disappearing in a way I wish I could.
I looked at the lit up end of the cigarette, intently staring as the tiny flames burnt the powder and paper into black ashes. I sat up on the bed and flicked the ashes into the glass that sat on the end table which was used for only that. I stuck the cigarette back into my mouth so that I could roll up my left sleeve, revealing the tattoo on my inner arm, just above the elbow, that reads “Things I can’t.” Above it was a round scar, one I knew all too well, and it was about to have an identical one beside it.
I took the cigarette from my mouth and stared at the lit end again. I can’t disappear easily. I took the lit end and quickly pressed it in an unwounded area above the tattoo. I hissed in pain but held the cigarette there a few milliseconds longer anyways, causing a wave of heat to rush through my veins and my eyes to fill with unwanted salty tears. Finally, I pulled it away and shook the ashes into the glass beside my bed as I blinked away the water that sat in my eyes. I examined the burn, finding that it was just as big as the last one, and it hurt almost as much. It’ll be blistered in a little while before it becomes a circular raised scar.
I turned my body towards my closet. The metal rod was no longer in there, having been taken down by my father the day after my “incident,” as he calls it. Now, I only have a second dresser sitting in there, and I’m no longer allowed to hang up clothes in my bedroom. I let out a sad sigh, glancing between my new wound and the dumb second dresser.
I can’t kill myself easily.
I glared down at my untied shoelace as I continued to walk along the sidewalk. I’m being forced to walk to the new school even though it’s farther than the old one because my parents don’t trust me alone with a car, and they shouldn’t.
What I don’t understand is why I’m having to be transferred to a new school. Yes, the last school was hell, but who’s to say this one won’t be any worse? At all of the schools I’ve ever attended, things started out okay, but people always tend to discover something about my past, one way or another, and then I’m back to being a human punching bag. It’ll happen at this school too, and I know it.
I won’t lie and say I miss my old school because I don’t. I’d never miss the people who betrayed me, who hurt me, and who enjoyed my misery. I especially won’t miss them all knowing my secrets, and I definitely hope that this school won’t discover them as well. Regardless, there’s one more year of school left, and Gemma believes I can make it through it. I don’t, but I guess I have no choice but to try.
I finally reached the street the building was on and took a moment to stop and stare at it. It was larger than my old school, and it looked newer and almost modern. Cars crowded it with parents dropping the freshman and sophomores off while other cars were driven by students who were trying to find a place to park in the crowded parking lot. Students walked through the gates with smiles on their faces as they greeted their friends with waves and hugs. A few security guards stood by the entrance, greeting the young adolescents with their walkie-talkies sitting on their belts and their hands tangled together behind their backs.
I looked down at my schedule that I had gotten a few weeks ago at the school orientation. Algebra, English, Music Appreciation/History, and Soccer were my classes for today. I have to take Algebra for the third time, English is the most boring subject, and I don’t even know how to play soccer. My father insisted that I should join a sport so I could make some friends easier, but he didn’t give me a choice in what sport to play. He said soccer would be my best bet because I’d probably get pummeled in football, and basketball was not something he enjoyed watching, not that he’d even come watch me play. Basically, Music Appreciation/History is the only thing I’ll enjoy about this day.
Music is something I turn to whenever Gemma isn’t there. It’s the only thing that makes me feel even the slightest of joy. It’s all I have, really. I can rely on it to calm me down, to fill the hole in my chest, and to help me dream peaceful dreams at night. It makes me feel safe in my darkest hours, and that’s why I feel that if I didn’t have music in my life, I wouldn’t have a life. I probably would’ve ended it long ago. Months ago, I did try to end my life, but that’s because I had this ache inside my heart that I felt even music couldn’t heal. I still have that ache, but music can at least keep me sane for the short period of time that I’m around it.
I took a deep, long breath before allowing my feet to move towards the entrance of the school. It was time to go to hell.
The school is huge, but there's always a staff member in every hallway, monitoring students to be sure they aren’t getting into any trouble. Cameras are in every corner, both inside and outside of the buildings. The security guards are all big, bulky, and tough looking, and while some looked intimidating, others were smiley and giving students high-fives. Overall, the place feels like a prison, but even prisons aren’t safe.
The people in the front office were quite friendly when I asked for a map of the campus. One of the ladies at the desk even pulled out assorted highlighters and matched every course on my schedule with a marked classroom on the map. When they offered to show me around, I just thanked them and politely declined. I am more than willing to walk around on my own, memorizing every inch of the school for places I’ll want to remember for future purposes.
Algebra class was quite embarrassing, in my opinion. When the teacher had asked who the seniors in her class were, I was the only one to raise my hand. No one laughed. In fact, it didn’t seem to matter to any of my classmates, but to me it mattered a lot because I'm already an outsider. Not only did no one speak to me, but I already had no understanding of what we were doing in class. This is going to be a long year.
At break, instead of going outside or to the cafeteria like the other students did, I explored the hallways. Cream colored walls, boring white tiles, and sky blue doors were seen throughout the long hallways of the school. Tall and skinny rectangular windows sat above every classroom door handle for people to peer in and out of. Many of the gaps in the walls held drinking fountains, while others led to the public restrooms. Few glass cases held awards, art, projects, and pictures for display of all the accomplishments and the students and staff they’re proud of. The school is absolutely beautiful, but its personality and the people in it may be completely different. That’s something I have to keep myself aware of.
When the bell rang, I was already sat outside of my next class, English, waiting for the teacher to come unlock the door and let the class in. Mr. Jaffrey is the teacher’s name, and I was half expecting him to be some old cranky guy. The man that showed up to unlock the door was the complete opposite, being a young guy who seemed to be in his later twenties, and he wore an annoyingly bright smile on his face.
“Hello,” he greeted me as he opened the door widely and used his foot to put the doorstop down. “I’m Mr. Jaffrey,” he held his hand out to me as soon as I stood to my feet. I just shot him a fake smile, much like the ones I gave the ladies at the front office this morning, and gave him a small nod. “Uh,” he chuckled nervously and placed his hand to his side. “Forgive me, you’ll have to be patient with me. This is my first year teaching a high school class, so I’m not sure what sorts of greetings you all would prefer. What’s your name?”
“Harry,” I mumbled, looking down as I tapped one foot against the other.
“Styles?” he questioned, and I looked up at him with crinkled brows. “I like to take the time to read through my students’ names in between classes.” I just looked at him blankly and watched as he nervously scratched the back of his neck. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he tried to joke, letting out a short laugh afterwards.
I shrugged. “Nothing’s ever easy with me,” my voice came out in a soft whisper, and I brushed past him to enter the classroom without giving him a chance to respond.
Once I found a desk in the back corner of the classroom, other students began filing into the room, first stopping to shake hands with Mr. Jaffrey and introducing themselves through his instructions. Two loud guys walked into the class, deep into a conversation that had them obnoxiously laughing, and they fist bumped the teacher’s palm without even saying their names, leaving him slightly frustrated. Much to my surprise, one of them took the seat in front of me, while the other took the one beside him. Once they threw their backpacks onto the tops of their desks, they leant towards each other and continued their intense conversation with scrunched up noses and noisy chuckles.
“It was great,” the guy in front of me snorted while running his fingers through his dark chocolate colored hair. “Hunter is an idiot.”
The guy beside him slightly frowned, causing the large freckle on his cheek to lower along with his smile, and said, “I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot, but that is funny.”
“No, he’s stupid,” his friend argued. He suddenly turned in his seat to face me. “What do you think?” he asked with a curious gaze and a toothy grin.
My eyes widened, and I cleared my throat in attempt to cover up my shock. “Um, I uh, I d-don’t know what you said,” I fumbled with my words and cursed myself in my head.
“We have a friend named Hunter, and he-”
The guy in front of me started to speak, but his freckled cheeked friend had cut him off by lightly waving and asking, “Are you new here? I don’t think I saw you around last year.”
I nodded slowly, “Yeah, I am.”
“Well, my names Liam, and this is Jayden,” the freckled guy spoke while pointing to his friend who gave me a peace sign.
“I’m Harry.”
“Cool,” Jayden readjusted himself in his seat so that he was sitting backwards on it. “So did you move or just switch schools?”
“Switched schools.”
“How come?” Liam leaned his face onto his knuckles while his elbow rested on the top edge of the chair.
Shit. I gulped down the lump in my throat that had formed from nerves, “Um-“
“Boys!” Mr. Jaffrey interrupted me. That was a close one. I haven’t even thought up of a lie to tell people about that yet. Liam and Jayden turned their heads towards the teacher and Mr. Jaffrey said, “Ah, I see your game, Mr. Styles. You refused to shake my hand, along with your friends whom didn't even stop to give me a proper introduction like the rest of the class. You think you’re too cool for a class like this, am I right?” What? Who does this guy think he is?
“I don’t know, I don’t speak idiot,” I muttered under my breath, and I watched Jayden block his snickers behind the palm of his hand. He was obviously the only one who heard me since both Liam and Mr. Jaffrey shot Jayden a questioning look before looking at me expectantly.
“Well?” the teacher pushed, but I only shrugged this time. “I would assume so since you wouldn’t speak to me much earlier, as well. You two sitting with Harry, what are your names?” he waved his finger back and forth between the two of them.
“Liam and Jayden, Sir,” Liam pointed to himself before pointing to his friend. “We didn’t realize you wanted us to introduce ourselves before. Sorry.”
Mr. Jaffrey nodded his head while tapping a pencil to his clipboard that he had just picked up from his desk. “Ah, that’d be because your conversation about your friend Hunter was so very important, yeah?” he raised his eyebrows at the two of them. “Clearly the three of you have better things to do than get an education. Why don’t you tell the whole class about your friend? Harry?”
I struggled to find the words as I glared down at my tangled fingers on my desk, “I-I don’t even, um, know him.”
“Yet he seemed to be a topic of interest a couple of minutes ago. Why is that Mr. Styles?” he firmly gripped his clipboard and hung it over his hips while leaning his back against the large whiteboard that was nailed to the wall. I nervously looked around at all of the students staring at me with amused expressions. It’s been awhile since a teacher has humiliated me, and it wasn't something I missed. There was never a good way to handle a situation such as this. I couldn't tell my parents because they’d just fight with each other on what to do about it, I couldn't tell the principal because the teacher would get away with it and go harder on me, and I couldn't talk back because then I’d just get into a bunch of trouble. So I did the only thing I could do in that moment; I just stared blankly at his insulting grin.
“I’d suggest that you don’t have any more conversations in this classroom that don’t involve the subject of English, unless you’d prefer to share it with the class. Am I clear?”
“Well, in our defense, we were speaking English, so...” Jayden trailed off, causing a few people in the class to chuckle, but not Liam. Liam doesn’t look like someone who likes to get into trouble, so that must be why he’s giving Jayden a face of disapproval.
“Speaking about English and speaking English are two different things, Mr. Domki,” the teacher chuckled, “but thanks for clearing that up for us.” He inhaled deeply and clapped his hand against his clipboard, “Okay, Class. We have a lot to go over today, so if Jayden would please turn around in his seat, then we can get started.”
Mr. Jaffrey had us all introduce ourselves, yet again, but this time to the entire class. He had us all stand up one-by-one, say our names, and state a fact about ourselves. Seeming as I was in the back corner of the class, I was the last to go, but that still didn’t give me enough time to think of a fact to present to the room. What am I supposed to say? “My name is Harry, and I spend my free time slitting my wrists,” or even better, “”I am suicidal?” That’s gold right there, surely. The thing is, there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t make anyone think I was a freak. There’s nothing “cool” about me, and there’s nothing interesting about my life.
So when it came to my turn, I said the only thing I could think of, “I’m Harry, and I’m as cool as a cucumber,” all while staring expressionless at my intrusive teacher. That earned me some laughs from my peers, and even our teacher chuckled at my joke. I was thankful he didn’t try to get a real fact out of me.
The rest of class was spent reading over the syllabus, and beginning a discussion about a passage in our textbooks. Jayden kept trying to chat with Liam, but the freckled cheeked guy paid no mind to him and focused on the task at hand. I, on the other hand, would hear everything he had to say because I can never focus on schooling anyways.
Jayden seemed like a cool guy, but I could already tell he was one of those big-headed jocks that I needed to watch out for. Maybe, right now, I’m on his good side, but just wait. Once he knows the real me, his friendliness towards me will be nothing but a memory. Then there’s Liam who I can’t quite figure out. When he first entered the classroom, he seemed like some troublesome popular jock as well, but throughout class, his whole demeanor changed. He became some intelligent, quiet guy who preferred no distractions. He was also nice, but my opinion is based on when he spoke to me in the beginning of class since he hasn’t spoken a word since.
Ring! Ring!
“Alright, class is dismissed,” Mr. Jaffrey clarified, allowing everyone to pack up their things and leave the room.
“Hey, Harry,” Liam cleared his throat to catch my attention while I threw my backpack over my shoulder. “Walk with us, yeah?”
I shrugged, “Sure.”
Liam sandwiched himself between Jayden and I as we walked through the building. He patted his hand against my shoulder blade, making me flinch slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “So why did you decide to go to this school? You never got to answer me.”
“Um, just didn’t like my old one,” I decided to say because it wasn’t a lie.
“Ah,” he nodded, thankfully not pushing the subject any further. “So have you seen the whole campus yet, or do you need a tour?”
“I’ve walked around a bit, so I think I should be good.”
“Alright, well, if you ever need help finding something, feel free to ask,” he grinned and held the hallway door open for Jayden and I to walk through.
Jayden chuckled, “Yeah, we don’t bite. You could always hang around us if you’d like.”
I stiffened at his offer. Things always end up badly when I join people at their tables. “That’s very generous of you,” I forced myself to say, “I’ll have to take that into consideration.”
“Oh, did you already find some other friends?” Liam furrowed his eyebrows. “What are their names? I probably know them.” He didn’t say it in a cocky way, so he just may know everyone at this school, meaning I can’t lie and make up some names. I probably should’ve thought this through before opening my mouth and saying I’d think about sitting with them. There’s never a win-win situation for me.
“Oh, um, I haven’t met anyone else. I just, um, I kind of wanted to just walk around the campus,” I spoke while fiddling with my fingers.
Liam smiled at my words, “Did you want me to come with you? I know where all of the good spots to sit at are, and I know what places you’d want to avoid.”
“Avoid?” I bit my lip nervously.
Jayden nodded vigorously, “Oh yes. Like, pretty much every corner at this school is a ‘make-out’ corner. You’re gonna want to avoid those places because things can get really nasty and intense over there.”
“Good to know,” I spoke my words slowly and somewhat like a question. This school has so much security and cameras, yet a lot of students can get away with sucking face? What else can they get away with? “I think I’ll be fine though.”
“Suit yourself,” Liam laughed at my puzzled expression. He held open the cafeteria door for Jayden and I, and we all walked over to the lines to buy our lunches. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet our friends? They’re just over there,” he pointed to a table in the back of the cafeteria: the biggest table in the room, in fact. I think they must’ve put two tables together because it was so long, and there were already eight people sat at it, three of them being guys. A few of the girls wore clothing so tight that their boobs were practically hanging out. I never understood how people could get away with wearing stuff like that, and I’ll never get why they would choose to wear something like that. Isn’t it uncomfortable?
None of those people would ever want to be friends with someone like me. None of the students in the entirety of the school will want anything to do with me. Eventually, I will be nothing to every single person in this school. Any “friendship” I’ll form will be fake, just like what happened at the last school I attended. Those these two seem nice, I can never be too sure.
“Um, yeah, I’m sure,” I answered while turning back to face the curious boys.
“Okay,” Jayden dragged the word out. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Oh, and Harry?” Liam placed his hand on my shoulder again. Why is he so touchy?
I turned my gaze away from his hand and towards his face, “Hm?”
“There’s a party at our friend Ryan’s house this weekend. You should come,” he stated casually removed his hand from me.
“P-party?” I choked out. Okay, this was new. No one has ever invited me to a party before. I don’t think any of the populars at any school have even interacted with me before. I have no idea what to do. A party couldn’t possibly go well for me at all. Not even this interaction with these two could go well for me. Nothing ever does.
Jayden shot me a weird smile, “Yeah, a party. You know, where people dance, drink, maybe even get lucky? You know what a party is, right?”
“Shut up Jay,” Liam rolled his eyes at his friend. “Of course he knows what a party is. He’s just probably never been to one. Have you?” he questioned me, and he didn’t appear to be judging me by the way he asked.
“Um, no,” I answered softly.
“Well, there’s a first for everything,” Liam grinned. “We’ll give you more details when we see you on Friday. Ryan still hasn’t exactly told us what time it’s okay to go.”
This is not a good idea, but I can’t help but want to go. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of moments. Okay, maybe that’s just for me since I don’t get invited to shit like this, but still. I may never get the opportunity to go to a party again. “You sure your friend won’t mind me coming?” I breathed out.
Liam's smile grew from ear to ear, “Nah. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“For sure,” Jayden nodded.
“THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T WANT YOU MOVING IN!” I heard my mother screaming as soon as I walked into the house. I’m home, I thought, not that you care nor will you even notice. I walked straight towards the stairs, not even bothering to get a snack like I had intended to do when I got home. I’d rather not see what’s going down in the kitchen.
I heard the sound of glass shattering into pieces, a noise I have grown quite accustomed to. There it is. “CAN YOU EVER GO A SECOND WITHOUT THROWING SHIT AT ME?!” my father blew up on her.
That was the last thing I caught them say before I shut the door to block most of the noises out. Yelling could still be heard from downstairs, but nothing was coherent enough for me to understand. This was just another regular day with both of my parents in the house. I’m surprised my mother hasn’t gotten enough aim practice with all of the glass she’s broken to actually hit my father.
After throwing my backpack onto the chair by my desk, I snatched my headphones from my end table and plopped onto my bed. I pulled my phone out and sent Gemma a text to let her know I was at home and that I was okay before plugging my headphones in, allowing music to fill my ears and completely rid myself of hearing what was going on downstairs. I opened up my end table drawer and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and my lighter in which I don’t even bother hiding since my parents hardly ever come up to my room.
I set the cig between my lips and lit it before tossing the lighter back into my end table drawer, closing it, and flopping my backside down on the bed. I inhaled deeply, allowing smoke to fill every crevice in my mouth, and then I formed an o-shape with my lips, allowing the smoke to rise into the air as I pulled the stick away from my lips. I watched the dark cloud slowly float away into nothingness, disappearing in a way I wish I could.
I looked at the lit up end of the cigarette, intently staring as the tiny flames burnt the powder and paper into black ashes. I sat up on the bed and flicked the ashes into the glass that sat on the end table which was used for only that. I stuck the cigarette back into my mouth so that I could roll up my left sleeve, revealing the tattoo on my inner arm, just above the elbow, that reads “Things I can’t.” Above it was a round scar, one I knew all too well, and it was about to have an identical one beside it.
I took the cigarette from my mouth and stared at the lit end again. I can’t disappear easily. I took the lit end and quickly pressed it in an unwounded area above the tattoo. I hissed in pain but held the cigarette there a few milliseconds longer anyways, causing a wave of heat to rush through my veins and my eyes to fill with unwanted salty tears. Finally, I pulled it away and shook the ashes into the glass beside my bed as I blinked away the water that sat in my eyes. I examined the burn, finding that it was just as big as the last one, and it hurt almost as much. It’ll be blistered in a little while before it becomes a circular raised scar.
I turned my body towards my closet. The metal rod was no longer in there, having been taken down by my father the day after my “incident,” as he calls it. Now, I only have a second dresser sitting in there, and I’m no longer allowed to hang up clothes in my bedroom. I let out a sad sigh, glancing between my new wound and the dumb second dresser.
I can’t kill myself easily.
Notes
First chapter! I hope you liked it!Vote and subscribe if you haven't yet already. Also, be sure to leave me a comment. It'd mean the world to me if you did. Love you guys<3
This is still one of my fav stories on here! When do you think the next update will be? I'm stoked to read the next chapter!
4/26/15