A Day In The Life Of Me.

It was another gloomy Jersey morning when I arrived at school. Walking out of the frying pan and into the fire, I barely managed to push my way through the sweaty larger bodies of my peers. Standing barely 5 foot, this everyday task can be torturous. No one even notices I'm there; no one moves when I ask, they act like I never said anything.

I'm not what you'd perceive as popular. Not saying I'm some sort of outcast, no, people would have to notice you in order to judge you so. I got good grades, had minimal friend, stuck to myself really.

High school isn't about being cool, at least not for me. I just want to pass with flying colors and get out of this place as soon as I possibly can. I want a future. To go to college and get a job and a bunch of dogs and just be happy. I'm a very simple boy. I don't want much. Staying out of the spotlight works for me. Attention isn't something I favor.

"Sup, fag?" I could recognize that booming voice anywhere. It sometimes haunts my dreams and I wake up petrified to endure the day. Mark and some of his fellow neanderthal football pals seem to be the only people that remember I'm here. How unfortunate. Thinking this, I must not be doing that superb of a job keeping a low profile now have I?

"Hey! I'm talking to you, midget" Ignore him, Frank. He's not worth your time. If you ignore him, maye he'll realize you're not worth it and fuck off like everyone else. Keep your eyes facing your locker. Just go about your business, he's not even there.

This would of been an easier task, had not lovely Mark taken the chance to shove me, hands firm on my shoulder blades, into my locker, my nose crashing harshly with the metal of the shelf. Hands reached up to cup my abused nose as I looked back over my shoulder at Marks stupid smug grinning face.

"Next time, don't ignore me. You know I hate that." Without another word he and his drones walked away, pushing into my with their shoulders. My eyes squeezed themselves shut, my fingers still assessing the damage of my nose.

When I got the nerve to open my eyes once more, the fingers in front of me were riddled with drops of dark blood. Sigh. Bloody nose and class hasn't even started yet. I had come to the point where I kept an aid kit in my locker, resting on the very shelf that caused my injury. I stuffed some tissue to my nose, hoping it would stop soon and continued to grab the rest of my books.

Only two more years and I can get out of here, away from all these people who don't give a shit about me and move on. Be better than they are or could ever be. No revenge is sweeter than success. By the time the bell rang, the bleeding had mostly stopped, my nose was swollen though, which I came to expect, but slamming my locker closed, I picked up my bag and heading through the crowded hallways once again, beginning my day.



The day was long, dark and tiresome. The grey clouds hanging around and mucking up the sky, threatening rain did nothing to help my mood. The day had started bad, and as it had not gotten worse, it hasn't gotten better either. The normal dull classes, stupid classmates, and the shove in the hallways.

Lunch was spent sitting in my normal spot, under a tree that rested next to the school. The grass was cool and slightly wet, there were a few other kids sitting at nearby picnic tables, chatting, laughing, being happy. Polar opposite of me. I didn't have anyone to laugh and share jokes with. It's hard to make friends when everyone around is nothing but giant douchebags.

The only one seeming to share in my despair was a boy sitting against the wall of the school, dressed in black with a book in his lap, a pencil clutched in my seemingly large hand, working furiously on the paper before him. Black hair draped around his head, blocking my view of his face, and his of everything going on around him. He seemed so at peace, drawing there.

I tore my eyes away from him and stared at my lunch, suddenly not hungry for the sandwich in my lap. Looks like it's another day of not eating for me.



The end of the day couldn't of came slower. Days like this always pass by extra slow, but now it's over and I'm almost free. Days like this I regret signing up to be a tutor to middle school kids. I'm smart, I want to help people, but right now I just want to go home, slip into some comfy pajamas, watch some movies and fall into a dreamless sleep. I rarely dream. I don't have many things to dream about.

The rowdy sounds of the football team sounded from down the hall, on their way to practice most likely. But you can't go to practice without pushing me, yet again into a, thankfully closed, locker. Whooping laughs faded away and I made my way to the jock free library to the young boy I've been tutoring for the past few weeks.

He was a smart boy, but everyone sucks at math at some point. I despise it to this day. If someone genuinely likes math, they need to see a psychologist or something.

"Afternoon, Mikes", I greeted the kid like usual. I got a grunt back. He was pretty quiet most of the time, only speaking up when giving an answer or asking a question. It's quite peaceful really, silence when he worked, only the sound of a pencil scratching against paper and the turning of pages from the few others lingering around.

This place calmed me. How nerdy is that? Libraries are places that I can go that I know I can get peace and quiet, to just sit and let myself get lost in the world of whatever book I decided on reading. That's what I loved about books. My life isn't great, but reading, I can pretend I'm someone else, floating around in space, hell, I could be a fucking princess if I wanted to, no one can stop me and I find that beautiful.



The hour passes quickly, and Mikey had already packed up his things and left in a hurry, mumbling about not wanting to keep his brother waiting any longer. Alone again, I decided to check out the books I needed for a new assignment and get out of here as fast as I can. The less time spent in this school the better.

My feet already ached as I made my way across the school to my locker but the gym, ironically my least favorite place in this whole institution. Running and exercising aren't my thing. I don't have very good lungs, the slightest jog can get me wheezing, and made fun of my everyone else, leading to all the fat comments they make toward me. I'm not even that chubby really, but how would they know.

Due to my increasing distaste with my body, oversized sweaters and large jackets with baggy shirts have become my norm. I can still fit in the semi tight pants I wore years ago, and since they still fit mother has insisted I don't need to waste money on more.

Loud yells tore me away from my depressing thoughts and my head snapped toward the gym. Football players loitered in, pulling frantically at their helmets, which wouldn't budge. Strange, I thought. Cursing and pulling and angered screams got louder and funnier. They really couldn't get their helmets off.

I covered my mouth with my hand, not wanting them to see or hear me laugh, I knew I'd get blamed and beat up for it. But oh how I wish this were my doing. The whole team, stuck, their moans of pain only adding fuel to the fiery laughter building in my stomach.

"Gotta love super glue" I didn't recognize the raspy voice and quickly spun around to see the boy from lunch, only this time with the bonus of his pale face. He was glancing over me, short remember, with a satisfied smirk upon his pale pink lips. Hands were stuffed into a pair of black pants, leather covered shoulder leaning against a locket, boot clad feet crossed each other.

"You did that?" With his nod I immediately knew I liked this guy. Anyone who plays a prank like that on those assholes is a person I'd be around. And he was pretty cute, but still.

"Got tired of seeing them pushing people around", he paused and looked me over, "pushing you around." The words took a moment to digest. He'd noticed them doing it? He'd...noticed me? "You've never done a goddamn thing to anybody and they think they can get away with that shit? No thank you." I got caught staring at the way his lips moved as he talked from the side of his mouth at a downward slant.

"They've gotten away with it since seventh grade", I recalled. Fists thrown my way, so many bandaids and crying myself to sleep. He smiled down at me, a genuine, caring smile and his eyes shone and god, I'm being such a girl right now aren't I?

"Not anymore. Not while I'm around." My stomach felt like a fucking butterfly garden and they were all having seizures at the same time. My cheeks felt hot and my head faced the floor, the sounds of distress behind me slowly getting closer. I tensed as their harsh words were right next to us, "Enjoy your haircuts, gentlemen.", the boy voiced, "Maybe next time you'll think twice about being such assholes." Mark stopped.

"You did this, Way?!", came a thundering voice that shook me, no matter how much I didn't want it to, 'Way' seemed to notice and I felt a hand at the small of my back, "Oh, so what, the hobbit here your boy toy now?" Hobbit. That's a new one. His hand slipped from my back he stood in front of me, blocking my view.

Their coach finally caught up, urging them to move on and not believing them when they threw accusations toward their fellow student. The halls were quiet again and the thought of them all going to get cut out of those helmets kept me sane.

"Now that they're gone, how about a movie?" Wait, what.

"A movie?", the confusing so obvious in my voice. He want to see a movie, in public, with me. Me, Frank. He smiled back at me, amused with my social retardation, "O-okay" Cursing myself for stuttering, I closed my locker, my bag firmly on my arm, "Wait, I don't even know you're name" He laughed, a heartwarming chuckle.

When a strong hand grabbed mine I swear my knees almost gave out and I would of been down for the count.

The empty hallway echoed with the sound of our shoes walking away, the sound of him laughing before he stopped to mutter a single word before dragging me outside, where the sky was darker, the smell of rain was in the air and the wind blew softly.

"Gerard."