It's 6:30 AM on a Monday, I don't want to get up. I don't want to attend school, there isn't anything I detest as much as I hate school. My life is a wreck, living by myself in a shitty house left behind by my parents when they passed away in that car accident at 14. After the incident it was me and my brother, left to fend for ourselves. I was 14 and he was 18, we were two kids who lived on our own without anyone. No one supported us, why would they? After all, it was only my brother and me; they didn't even attend our parents' funeral. Anyways, 2 years after the accident my brother killed himself by overdose, I guess he had enough of taking care of me. I was a bother to him; He couldn't attend college because of the responsibility of taking care of the both of us. Currently, I live by myself in this shitty little house. I eat a moldy piece of bread while on my way to school. I attend a private school that my parents paid for with their savings. Every morning, I walk past the same homeless person who sleeps on a bench, passed out because he drank too much the previous night. He reeks, and a few minutes later is a house with little kids. They must be around 4 and 7, behind them are their parents about to drive them to school before going to work. They glare at me as if I was a piece of trash like they do every other morning. A couple seconds later a few kids fly by me in their new orange-striped Mustang, and like every morning those dumbasses throw a glass bottle at me. It's a different bottle every time. This time it seemed to be a bottle of rum. After having been hit in the back of the head many times by a glass bottle you learn to avoid getting whacked.

After walking for 30 minutes, I finally arrived at school. The rest of the students are waiting in front of the doors of the school ready to attend classes that no one gives a damn about or even wants to attend. To a numerous number of people, this is the part that they dislike the most about their day since they need to wake up early to go to school. However, for me the aroma of perfume from the good-looking girls and the sweet smell from the jocks, and the wind blowing my hair instills a sense of fear. This fear isn't from not wanting to study; it's because… “hey, Brat, move out the way” these pieces of shit older kids. They think of themselves as kings to the rest of the less fortunate kids who weren't lucky enough to have the money of their wealthy parents go towards their clothes. We don't get to wear brand-name clothes and jewelry like Rolex and Gucci. The majority of us also aren't as fortunate as they are because we don't have amazing DNA that enables us to be 6 feet tall and have broad shoulders. The average person additionally doesn't possess the genes that these girls have to end up with that nice hourglass shape. We ordinary people don't have these things that make them special and popular. Therefore as you can assume typical and ordinary people despise these popular kids like Brad (the cunt that ordered me to move). The bell rings signaling to the teachers and students that the doors of the school are about to unlock. After getting pushed all over the place by the bigger and older kids. I finally get inside this shitty school with blue lockers, gray walls, and steel bars covering the windows like a prison. I can't believe we invest hundreds of dollars just to attend a school that can't even look nice. It sucks to be here. I arrive at my locker to low and behold a note on it saying "loser" in shitty handwriting. It must be, Brad I think to myself. Meanwhile, Someone sneaks up behind me and proceeds to knock me at full strength right into the locker. I hit my head on the locker door and then bounce back onto the floor, as I look up to recognize Brad, “fucking loser,” he says while walking away.

I stay on the floor still in a daze, I struggle to stand up because a 235 lb 6 feet tall rich kid was having a bad morning. That's what it's like around here. If you’re not “good” enough or if the kids of power are upset, that’s reason enough to do what they deem worthy to you. Naturally, they don't do this to anybody. But they will to me since I've been one of their targets since I got to this school in 9th grade. At the time they were in 10th but since they were still older than me they would pick on me and the reason for that was merely because I stood up to them while they were intimidating one of the other kids for being a redhead. They had the poor frail and short red-haired kid pinned to the wall and they were hitting him. This kid no longer attends this school since he had parents who cherished him and cared for him so they got him out of this "prison". However, I've now just come to be one of their targets. So now I'm in 11th grade and it's the final year I have before I can be at peace. Or so I thought, This rich kid was so dumb that even his father's money couldn't help him pass. The principal couldn't even take any of his bribes since it would be too obvious the school was corrupt if a kid with a 26% average graduated. Hence, this prick is in every single one of my classes and of course, he gets to sit behind me. He does nothing but kicks my seat, and strikes the back of my head. He makes it abundantly obvious he's a nuisance but the teachers don't do anything because of his father's power. Because of that, I spend all class tolerating spitballs stuck in my hair. Since my head was bothering me from getting hit in the head so hard at the beginning of the day I was getting absolutely furious because of the constant jerking of my back seat. He just couldn't leave me alone. As if I were his crush and he was just a little boy trying to capture my attention, the sole difference is that he didn't want my attention, he wanted nothing but entertainment. He was being so irritating and a total ass that I managed to muster up the courage to turn around and glare him straight in the eyes. This surprised him since simply looking up at him or looking into his eyes would enrage him. I guess it was the sense of pride he had that no one would dare look him straight in the face. But all I know is that I very... very much regret looking up at him. And I even dared to glare at him. Oh my god, I don't know what I was anticipating, but I sincerely regret it. My brain delivered a shock of fear through my entire body as I saw his sinister and heated face. I turned back around so fast I thought I would give myself whiplash, I don't know if it was out of fear or panic. Either way, all I knew at that moment was that I was in trouble. Like a little cub who went stray from its mother, I knew I was fucked. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled my chair as hard as possible to pull me close to him. The chair caused a very harsh screeching noise making the entire class quiet and looking back at me. Behind me was a very infuriated Brad, having hauled me close to him he pinched the back of my neck causing an excruciating amount of pain. He whispers in my ear, “Go to the bathroom.” I freeze, my body won't move, I can tell he's getting less and less patient as his grip on the back of my neck tightens, making it harder to stay calm. After a certain point, I give up and raise my hand, with the rest of the class still staring idly at me. I asked my math teacher if I could go to the bathroom. She nodded, indicating I was allowed to go. As soon as Brad releases his grip, I stand up in a hurry and walk hastily past the class and the teacher, walking out of the class. As soon as I'm out of Ms Fitzgerald's sight, I run across the school to the bathroom. On my way there I tripped and ripped my school uniform. After arriving in the bathroom, I lean against the wall panting, and wait for Brad to show up in front of me at any moment. A minute goes by and no one comes into the bathroom, another minute, still… No one enters. 5 minutes pass, and I hear footsteps slowly coming to the bathroom door. Those few seconds felt so long that I believed the bell indicating the end of class would ring. Then, suddenly the steps sound as though they are getting further and further away. I sign out of relief, and then out of nowhere Brad shows up running at full speed. In that short moment I was so frightened I thought I would just fall over and die. That would have been the better outcome. Unfortunately for me, it didn't happen. The next thing I knew I was on the floor, he had tackled me to the ground. Brad was one of the best players on the school's football team so he sure as hell knew how to make a strong tackle. (5 minutes later) Brad enters the math classroom Ms. Fitzgerald says: “where's Aoi” Brad answers back “I don't know? I didn't see him”, Ms. Fitzgerald looks at his bruised knuckles and sighs as she informs him to take a seat, the bell rings indicating the end of the school day.