Hate Me

I cringed there under their scrutiny. My hair was wet, damp with the water they had splashed in my face from the dirty mop bucket.

I think someone was laughing… or maybe they were all laughing, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was I wanted to disappear, become nothing. Maybe have a warm bath…

“Well, fuckin’ say something,” one of them said. I refused to look up though, in favor of letting myself escape into the painless corner of my mind. The one that hadn’t been tainted by abuse or scathing tongues. Hard to believe I still had one… Amy says it’s because of my purity. Kale says it’s because I’m much stronger than I look, mentally anyways.

Purity… I wish I was pure. I wish I could wash away my sick existence and end this misery.

One of the faceless boys kicked me again before they laughed and walked away, chatting about their ‘conquest’. My left arm was numb from the previous blow to it. I just decided to sit there for a while; my teachers wouldn’t miss me. After all, teachers like to pity the lowly, made-fun-of kid. On more than one occasion my teachers have tried to talk to me, tried to be my friend or something like that, like I didn’t have any friends. I had Amy and Kale and that was enough for me.

I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the tiles on the wall, sighing.

I heard an echoing on footsteps on the tiles in the bathroom and I almost didn’t bother to look up. But I did.

Honestly, I didn’t think that Ryan would come this time. He didn’t have a reason to, I just thought that maybe the other few times were a fluke.

I didn’t let my eyes question him; interrogations were futile, I knew. His eyes canned over the room nervously before he shakily moved to where I was sitting. He was like this every time, jumpy and anxious. Maybe he was afraid that his friends were going to come back and see that he was helping their prey.

“Y-You’re all wet…,” he stated, his face contorted with guilt.

Must he state the obvious and embarrass me? But then he did something I didn’t expect, he disappeared. Guess he got sick of helping me out. I can’t blame him though, I probably did look pretty pathetic.

But no, he reappeared ten minutes later with a towel, kneeling down in front of my soaking wet body, wrapping the towel around me.

“…” I kept quiet while he rubbed my hair dry and then wiped the water from my face. “That’s enough… I can do it myself.”

At that, he looked down, disappointedly before standing up to leave again. I thought for sure that he was actually gone this time, leaving me to sit there and attempt to clean my wounds.

It’s not like I got beat up often; it was just when they felt like it or when I somehow pissed them off.

I sighed when I saw the dark-haired boy re-enter the bathroom with an icepack and an Ace bandage. “Was your shoulder hurt?” He whispered, taking seat next to me again, on his knees.

”Should you care?” I shot back, without venom. His eyes black, coal eyes locked with mine for a few seconds. The pain and guilt in his eyes were evident.

“I want to care,” he told me, beginning to press down on my arm, looking for any spots of soreness. I cringed when he got to my elbow. He was dangerously close to my armband so I shoved him away.

“I don’t need it wrapped,” I told him. “I’m fine, just let me-”

“Why?” He questioned, looking almost concerned.

“Just because!” I hissed back, scared that if he learned my secret, he’d tell his friends and his friends would end up telling Sloan, who’d tell my parents.

“…Okay…,” He agreed, nodding. “Use the ice pack though, okay?”

I sighed, giving in as I nodded. I might as well.