A Unique and Torn Romance

I stare at the back of the chair in front of me – a dark blue sweater as a background. I don’t care about the sweater, though. Nor do I care about the chair.
This is Mrs. Williams’ class and I still haven’t looked up at those two jiggling boobs yet.
I’ve changed. I’ve changed beyond recognition. I don’t even know myself anymore.
I kissed a boy.
I’ve never even kissed a girl, and then I go and kiss a boy? A boy that I considered to be my best friend despite everything he did to me. A boy who understood me. A boy I fell for.
A boy.
But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that now I’ve changed so much that I now have one more secret to hide: I’m most certainly, definitely gay.

“Mr. Way!” It even rhymes with my name.
I look up at Mrs. Williams’ face – her face.
“Are you even listening?” I just stare at her. Usually I’d be off to dreamland by now – dreaming of how tight her pussy would be as I’d pound into her. Now, I barely even look at her, and I definitely don’t respond.

She turns around and continue to teach. My gaze quickly falls onto the chair again.
And why did I kiss the only person I’ve ever considered a true friend – since even my own brother has left me – just a few minutes after agreeing with myself not to ruin our friendship? Because of the painkillers.
Aspirin are usually gentle with me. They take away the pain and only make me slightly lightheaded. But Codeine – apparently – makes me go fucking nuts and do shit that screws up my entire life.
But then again; I was already doing that.

It’s not the genes. It’s not the drugs or the odd, heavy, baneful air that surrounds our house during a full moon – the reason why Ray never visits anymore.

It’s me. I screw things up. Everything I do turns into failure. It all falls into a deep whole filled with loss and despair and fear. I live in a town filled with fucking monsters and freaks, and yet I’m still a fucking misfit! Everyone in this fucking classroom has the genes of a monster or been bitten my someone or something that has been affected by radioactivity or dawned from the dead, and still; I’m the fucking freak!

“Mr. Way!” I snap my head up to look at Mrs. Williams again. She looks pissed.
“I keep repeating myself with you. If you won’t listen to me, then maybe you’ll listen to the principal,” she says firmly, before she stretches her arm to the side and points at the door.
Without looking at the rest of the class – not wanting to see their judging looks – I gather up my stuff, walk up to the teacher’s desk to get the note she’s left and then begin my walk to the principal’s office.

I try not to think of anything – just focusing on my ridiculously light steps – as I walk through the empty hallways. I walk past my locker. Bob shoved me up against it once. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t say a fucking thing. I never said a fucking thing.

“Hey,” I look up to see a guy in a disgusting suit looking at me – outraged by my appearance.
“What are you doing out here?” I roll my eyes.

“Principal,” I simply say, before I hold up the note and walk past the stupid fuck of a teacher. He probably teaches philosophy – certainly not logistics.
I push the door to the office open and walk up to the snobby secretary.

“Take a seat,” she says – her nasal voice cutting at my ear drums – and points at a chair with her pencil. I snarl at her when she looks down.
I sit.
I pull out a comic from my backpack. I always carry one around, but I only read it during lunch while Frank is talking to my brother. How they can still have something to talk about is beyond me. I think they’ve talked more over the phone than I talked to Gerard during the 15 years I’ve been able to talk. I think the amount of words we’ve spoken to each other after he moved to college can be summed up in less than 200 words. Lovely brother, right?

I jump when the bell rings.

“Mr. Way.” I look up.
“Please, come in,” the principal says, before he disappears into his office. I put my comic back into my bag. I didn’t read a single word.
“Sit.” He gestures to a chair on the other side of the desk, while I close the door behind me. He’s flipping through some paper while I walk over to the chair – the floor beneath my light steps creaking slightly.

The office is cold – probably meant to intimidate the kids who come in here. I only find it comforting.

“So,” he says loud and firm. He folds his hands and leans over his desk.
“You’ve missed quite a lot of your classes recently. I’ve called your mom, and since she had no explanation, I thought I’d have a talk with you myself. It was nice of Mrs. Williams to send you here.” I bet he’s boning her.

I just stare at him. I have no intentions whatsoever to ‘have a talk’ with him. He already knows that I’ve skipped school and that my mom never knew about any of it. That’s pretty much all I’m willing to tell him.

“Mr. Batter even dropped by my office this morning after class and told me you were barely present, even though you’re usually very active in his classes.” Mr. Who?
“Would you like to explain the recent change in your behavior, or should I just go straight to your punishment?” I just stare at him. As I said; I’m not gonna tell him more than he already knows. And even if I did explain to him what has changed, I seriously doubt I’d avoid his punishment. He’d probably just add a week to it.
“All right.” He picks up a pen and scribbles something down.
“Two weeks of detention.” I just keep staring – completely unfazed. When he looks up at me, he looks slightly taken aback. It makes me wanna grin.
“You can leave now.” He still sounds slightly shocked. I can’t help the smirk that slowly spreads on my face.

I get up from my seat and grab the door handle. As I turn it, I send him one last vicious, dominant look over my shoulder – just to scare him.
I don’t even know why he’s the principal at this school. We’re all a bunch of freaks – what is he? Is he anything?

I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks.

Frank hurls Bob up against a locker, before he shakes off a few of the zombies that are clinging onto his back. They fall to the floor like flies. The one who’s holding on to his right arm gets flung across the hall and hits the lockers.
Frank spares no time before he buries his fist in Bob’s stomach. Bob bends over – giving in to the blow.
Frank backs away from Bob. He’s got a vicious look on his face – his jaw clenched, his teeth bared and his eyes narrowed. Even I’m scared of him right now.

The zombies don’t seem to be though – or maybe they just haven’t seen his face. They all jump him again. Two of them knock him to the floor. Once he’s down, one zombie stays on top of him while four others grab onto his thrashing limbs. All five of them are struggling to keep him down.

In the meantime, Bob has collected himself enough to stand up straight and walk closer to Frank. He stands still – looking down at his victim. I can’t quite see his face.
For the first time, I look around. There’re kids standing all around – just watching. None of them look frightened or even affected by what’s happening right in front of them. It’s just another fight.
Bob pulls back his foot – an action that catches my eye. I look down just as he charges it forward towards Frank’s groin.

Before I can comprehend anything, Bob is pressed against the bent lockers and Gerard is holding on to his throat. He snarls something at Bob – his teeth bared and his fangs glistening in the fluorescent lights.
Gerard swiftly turns around and one by one he flings the zombie-jocks off of Frank – Frank taking care of the last one himself.
Gerard pulls Frank up and hugs him tight, before he pulls away and turns back to Bob.

“You better beg me not to kill you,” he snarls with his fangs completely visible and every muscle in his neck tense.

“No!” I don’t know what I’ve said before it’s left my mouth. Gerard turns to look at me – his flaming eyes shocking me.
“Don’t,” I whisper – I can’t muster any more than a whisper. But Gerard hears. He always hears. I see his ears vibrate. He’s heard me. But once again, he doesn’t listen.

He turns his attention back to Bob and quickly grabs onto his neck. Bob’s eyes fill with pain and fear as he reaches up and try to pry Gerard’s hand off of his neck.
He can’t.

“Gerard!” I yell, before I run down the hall and grab onto Gerard’s arm. I try to pull his arm away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Gerard, stop it!” I scream – right into his ear. He turns his head slowly and looks at me – the same look still in his eyes. If I wasn’t half-unicorn, I think I’d be dead by now.
I loosen my grip on his arm.
My heart is pounding in my chest – blood rushing past my ears in waves, over and over again – while my breaths are ragged and my lips are quivering.

“What do you care?” His voice is low and murky – almost like a growl, only more clear. His eyes are flaming. What used to be white is now sanguineous, while his irises are pitch black.
I swallow hard.
I try to speak, but my vocal cords won’t work.
A vicious smirk appears on Gerard’s cold, pale lips.
“You care, don’t you?” A flash of gold crosses his eyeballs. He looks pleased – morbidly satisfied.

“Ge-“ my voice comes to a screeching hold. I try to swallow down my fear, but most of it stays like a lump in my throat.
“Let him go.” My voice is shaky and whimpering. It’s a pathetic plead for sympathy.
Gerard suddenly lets go of Bob’s neck. Bob’s limp body falls to the floor and I want nothing more than to help him, but Gerard’s eyes won’t let me go.

“You care for a boy and you didn’t even tell me?” Gerard’s voice is no longer vicious, but hints of cruelty is still there. He sounds mocking. It’s not even a question – more like a statement.
Slowly his eyes cool down – their true colors slowly appearing from behind the red and black.
I hear Bob move. I even see him out of the corner of my eye, but Gerard’s still have my focus. Frank places a hand on Gerard’s shoulder and the blood-red color disappears quicker – the black almost completely gone.

When his eyes finally let me go, I look around.
Everyone is staring. Some are snickering or hiding their amused faces behind a friend’s shoulder. The zombies are all staring at me – their empty gazes boring into me.

I look down at Bob. He’s frowning at me.

I look up at Gerard. When the last bit of crimson color has disappeared from his eyes, I turn around and bolt.