The last couple of weeks have been pretty calm. The new student would hang out for a couple of hours, and then leave before I could get his name. I think he’s doing it on perpose.
One day, after a long eight hours of staring at the chalkbourd, taking notes, and avoiding teachers, the bell finally rang, and I dash for my locker. As you probably know, no one's life is perfect, mine just happens to be really unlucky. Dodging, running into others, and getting held up by a teacher is just one of many troubles during this time. The problem awaits at my locker. If I don't hurry, I’ll be caught up in this problem. I finally make it to my locker, only to see two heads of dyed red and blond hair. AS you probably guessed, I have bully issues. Pretty cheesy I know, but just like any other student just trying to survive high school, I have these two meatheads hunting me down. I slowly make my way to my locker, hoping they’ll just ignore me. Sadly that's not the case. Once I finish packing up my bags, and start for the exit, a hand that is disgusting boney, grabs my upper arm, and I'm dragged into a nearby janitor closet. The metal door slams shut behind me, and any sign of life is shut out with it.
“Hello Alex,” says a gravelly voice that sounds like they had been smoking for years.(Which they probably had been)
I swallow whatever saliva remains on my tongue with a loud gulp.
The red head smiled sinisterly at me. He seemed to have a mouth full of metal, and a simple piercing on his eyebrow, making him look like he was glaring. He clicks his tongue in a disapproving gesture. The blond guy behind him simply chuckles. Blondey is covered from head to toe with all sorts of tattoos, from snakes to roses to skulls.
“I'M sure you didn't forget us did you?” Redhead says acting hurt.
THats right, these are my bullies. I’ve been trying to avoid them for a couple days now, and it seems that only made this worse. If I had told anyone, they would think I'm being an attention whor, or something like that. Transphobic boomers. Either that or these idiots would come after me and make sure I really look like the zit on the red heads chin.
“That really hurts me, It really does,” he sighs, running his hand through his greasy locks.
I scoff, only to be hit in the stomach by blondey. Redhead clicks his tongue again. Is that a habit or something?
“Why didn't you tell me?” he starts.
Meanwhile blondey backs away only for redhead to get in my face.
“That's your ‘Trans’ I mean?” He over exaggerates the ‘trans’ part.
I roll my eyes, trying not to breath in his terrible sent(Bitch needs to learn how breath through his nose)
“My business isn't your business. Unless you're my thong, don't be up my ass fucker,” I spit.
The next thing I know, there's a sting in my jaw, and my eyes water from the sting.
“You know, thtas pretty gay,” he chuckles.
Great, I already have people thinking I'm an attention whore, what more do I need?
“I'm straighter than the pole your mom dances on,” I chuckle.
This only makes him even angrier. Good. Better to get this done and over with, than to let them think I'm a weak bitch for them to push around.
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After who knows how long of being a punching bag for these fucks, Redhead's face finally does not match the color of his hair.
“Come on Bob,I think he's had enough,” redhead opens the door.
“Coming,” What I assume is Bob, scurries out the door.
I lay in the dark for what feels like hours, hoping the cool tiles beneath me will numb the pain. Finally after what I assume was thirty minutes passed, I slowly got up. Wincing when I get on my feet. Head is throbbing, and My limbs are shaking. I reach for my phone and call John.(my brother)
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Once he shows up, the sun is setting, and he school is completely empty. I open the door to Johns truck, and wince as I climb in. John simply stares at me, and drives home. The drive is short. Shorter than I would have liked. I climb out of the truck, and once my feet hit the floor, they almost give under me. I grab on the door for support, and slowly,I make my way to the house. My brother is quickly by my side, holding me up. He sets me down in a chair near the table, as he rushes to get what I assume is an ice pack. The cold sack rests on my bruised jaw, and Johns cleans up the little cuts redheads shoes made. It's silent between us, and I start to squirm, feeling awkward.
“Well aren't you going to say something?” I whisper.
He stops what he’s doing, and looks me in the eyes. His expression is cold, and I can see little dark circles under his eyes. It must've been another long day. I look away, feeling guilty for causing him trouble. He sighs.
“ I assumed you didn't want me to ask,” He ressumes to cleaning my wounds.
I look down trying hard not to clench my fist in sorrow. I have to stay strong. The rest of the night was quiet, I quickly ate leftovers and crawled into bed. Tonight would be long, so I decided to listen to music.

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