The *** and the Parliament
Elliot
My safety was once again at stake when the bell rang for lunch. Only now I didn't have just bullies to worry about; I had Lauren Marcell, who knew something about the mark on my neck. I didn't know how much she knew, but chances were she would approach me about it when she got the chance.
The thing is, I wouldn't give her the chance. I'd spent all of my life with people that would rather hurt me than help me, and I knew that I couldn't expect Lauren to be any different. She or anyone else could make this even harder on me than it's been, and being faced with that risk made me nervous. The rest of my anxiety, I hated to admit, was caused by a fear of talking to pretty girls.
So I hid in the one place I felt I'd be safe from at least Lauren, though likely not many bullies: the boys' restroom.
I pulled the fourth edition of Real Demons out of my backpack and flipped it open. I'd read this book so much, I might have memorized it verbatim, so I wasn't sure where to start reading. I wished I had new books to read, but I didn't, and it was my fault for having lost them on my way home. On my way to school, I even retraced my steps to the spot where I was beat up, and my books were nowhere to be seen. Real Demons: the fifth edition, along with my copies of all the latest demon-related reference materials, were lost forever. Although I did spend just over one hundred dollars on books I never got to read, I was more concerned with whether or not I would survive to reorder them.
As I read, I heard the restroom door open. Footsteps grew louder until they reached the last stall in the line—the stall I was in.
"Who's in here?"
I already knew he was aware of me; my feet and backpack were both in his view, and there was no way I could move them soundlessly. However, I didn't answer.
"Tell me who you are or I'll find out for myself."
I still didn't answer.
He laughed slightly, and I heard him start to walk away.
Suddenly, the stall door came crashing down on top of me.
The thing is, I wouldn't give her the chance. I'd spent all of my life with people that would rather hurt me than help me, and I knew that I couldn't expect Lauren to be any different. She or anyone else could make this even harder on me than it's been, and being faced with that risk made me nervous. The rest of my anxiety, I hated to admit, was caused by a fear of talking to pretty girls.
So I hid in the one place I felt I'd be safe from at least Lauren, though likely not many bullies: the boys' restroom.
I pulled the fourth edition of Real Demons out of my backpack and flipped it open. I'd read this book so much, I might have memorized it verbatim, so I wasn't sure where to start reading. I wished I had new books to read, but I didn't, and it was my fault for having lost them on my way home. On my way to school, I even retraced my steps to the spot where I was beat up, and my books were nowhere to be seen. Real Demons: the fifth edition, along with my copies of all the latest demon-related reference materials, were lost forever. Although I did spend just over one hundred dollars on books I never got to read, I was more concerned with whether or not I would survive to reorder them.
As I read, I heard the restroom door open. Footsteps grew louder until they reached the last stall in the line—the stall I was in.
"Who's in here?"
I already knew he was aware of me; my feet and backpack were both in his view, and there was no way I could move them soundlessly. However, I didn't answer.
"Tell me who you are or I'll find out for myself."
I still didn't answer.
He laughed slightly, and I heard him start to walk away.
Suddenly, the stall door came crashing down on top of me.