Why Me?

I woke with the sun the next morning, blinking lazily in the light. For a moment, I was confused. Where was I? But then it all came back to me. I groaned.

No way in Hell was I going to school today. Or tomorrow. Maybe I should just bunk off for the whole week. Yeah, that sounded good. Not like anyone would miss me. Maybe they’d throw a party. ‘Yeah, Kellin’s not here! Maybe he’s finally committed suicide, so we don’t have to put up with his emo fag ass moping about all day!’ Seriously, I was doing them all a favour by not going.

If I lay here long enough, maybe I’d just disappear. Maybe I’d merge into the soil and moss, and never come back. Then I thought; who are you kidding, Kellin? No one wants you around. Not even the soil.

Maybe I should just end it. It was quite scary, the way that all it took was the swipe of a blade to end your life. Or a few pills. Or even a rope. No one would care. No one would miss me. I doubt anyone would even notice.

I got up and headed home. I needed breakfast, before I collapsed. Not that I was hungry.
The plan was to avoid my father at all costs. My ribs were still sore from the double beating yesterday, and I sure didn’t want to face another one. There were only so many blows a body could take before it shut down forever, which would be a good thing, in my case, but yeah. I still didn’t want to face my father.

Reaching my house, I got out my keys and quietly opened the front door, making sure not to wake my father (Whose real name was Brian; I refused to call him ‘Dad’ to his face). However, I shouldn’t have worried - the first thing I saw when I entered the living room was my dad passed out cold on the sofa, surrounded by beer bottles. I should have guessed.

I sighed and walked into the kitchen, making a hasty breakfast of porridge, and then headed upstairs to take a quick shower and get dressed. However, just as I turned to leave my room, a shadow darkened my doorway. I froze.

“What the fuck are you doing here, fag?” It was Brian, leering at me. “You should be at school.
Shit. How was I gonna get out of this one without a beating?

“I, um . . . My alarm didn’t go off this morning so I woke up late and –“

“Liar!” He snarled, lunging forwards and pinning me against the wall by my throat. “You didn’t come back last night. So don’t try to bullshit me, kid.” He punctuated his words with several blows to the stomach and I bend double, winded. He got me on the floor and started kicking me relentlessly. To say that it didn’t hurt would be a downright lie – but there was no way I was going to give Brian the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting me, so I bit down hard on my tongue.

Eventually he finished. “I’m driving you to school today, to make sure you actually go, shit-box.” Ha, like he cared about my education. He just wanted to look good in front of my teachers; he’s slept with a few of them, after all. He really and truly revolted me.

Two hours later

“Mr. Quinn!”

My head shot up. “Wh-what?”

I blinked the fuzziness out of my eyes and looked up at the teacher glaring at me from the front of the room. She looked furious.

“Sleeping in lesson? Detention!” She practically screamed at me. Well, you couldn’t blame me, really. History was boring enough as it was - I really couldn’t give a shit about the Jacobites and how they lost their stupid fucking battles – but this class was made even worse by the pathetic excuse for a teacher. He name was Mrs Burrell (How she ever got a husband, I’ll never know), and she was the biggest asshole of a “Teacher” I’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. She made massive deals out of the tinniest things, and everything she said had this monotone ring to it. She also blamed me for everything that went on in class. Barry forgot his homework? Must be Kellin’s fault! Kate didn’t know who the fuck ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ was? Must be Kellin’s fault. About the only thing that kept me sane in this class was imagining the many ways I could murder her.

I mentally prepared myself for the lecture that would follow my nap, and sure enough it came. Lasting for about half an hour. Hey, at least it provided the other kids with some form of entertainment. Now their graves wouldn’t have to read “Died of boredom due to a History lesson with Mrs. Bitchface (My nickname for Mrs Burrell).”

After what felt like a century, the bell rang and I headed for the bathroom, limping slightly. Brain had kicked me quite hard this morning, and it hurt like a bitch whenever I put pressure on my ankle. But before I could reach the bathroom, I felt a gentle tug on my shoulder. I spun around to be met with Matty, the nerdy kid in my class. He was constantly being made fun of and being bullied, just because he was smarter than everybody else, and I felt sorry for him. Some people could be douchebags.

“Hi, uh, you dropped this,” He said shyly, and handed me a folded piece of paper. I didn’t remember dropping it, but nonetheless I took the paper and thanked him.

As he was walking off, I suddenly had a thought. “Hey, Matty!” I called, beckoning him over once more. “I was, um, wondering whether you wanted to have lunch with me?”

He flashed me a small, uncomfortable smile and wrung his hands nervously. I knew what his answer would be before he even opened his mouth. “Sorry Kellin, I can’t. I promised Luke I’d help him with his homework.”

Oh. Ah well, what did I expect? He was probably just using Luke as an excuse to get away from me. No one wanted to hang around with the depressed little fuck that was Kellin Quinn. I guess I couldn’t blame them.

I told him it was okay, then made my way to the bathroom one more. That was basically where I spent my entire school life. Locked away in a cubicle, with no one but myself.

I pulled out my blade, and admired the way it glinted in the harsh light. As far as I was concerned, nothing was more beautiful. Pushing my hoodie up, a pressed the blade against my arm and swiped. One, two, three . . . I ended up with six new cuts. Blood was trickling down my arm – normally it would be everywhere, but when I was at school I tried to keep the cuts shallow and the bleeding to a minimum. After all, didn’t want to accidentally go too deep and end up dead in the school bathroom.

Or maybe I did. I didn’t even know anymore.

Unlocking my stall door, I walked over to a sink and turned the tap on, quickly cleaning up my arm. Then I pulled my sleeve back down and locked myself in the cubicle again.

I had the whole of lunch to myself. I was about to get my iPod out, when I remembered the paper Matty had given me. Was it just my Math homework that had fallen out of my bag?

I decided to check. Leaning against the stall door, I pulled the thing out of my pocket and unfolded it. My blood ran cold.

For there, in my hands, was a note.

Dear Kevin, or Kelvin, whatever your name is,
Meet me outside the doors after school. Don’t bring anyone else. And you better come or there will be consequences.
- Vic

Oh shit. I was as good as dead.