Polyphia

E L I J A H

No matter how little I moved, the pain was unbearable. It's been 3 hours since I cleaned the wound, and I felt the stitches opening. I knew I had to remove it and stitch it all over again; no matter how many times I've done re-stitched myself, the pain was intolerable.

Thank God I was one of the few students left inside the school building, this made the chances of me getting caught as I crept to the back of the school to get high very slim. If only the sociology teacher wasn't patrolling the corridors. I've spent the last 20 minutes hiding in the bathroom, waiting for the man to patrol the other side of the school, giving me 5 minutes (if I limped fast and without grunting) to go out from the back and roll my joint. I feel like the dude in heaven listened to my prayer as the teacher turned around the corner and disappeared, however, just to be cautious, I waited for about 30 seconds before confirming that he was in fact patrolling other corridors. I slowly opened the bathroom door and limped as fast as I could to the back door and closed it without making any noise. I leaned against the door and exhaled with relief.

Fucking finally, time to get high.

I sat right next to the bin and began to roll my joint. As I smoked, I watched the sun go down, clearly indicating that everyone was at their homes and talking about how their days went whilst having dinner with their families. I should be one of those people, I should go home and talk about how my day went. However, I haven't been that person for the last 5 years.

5 years. 5 whole years of kicking, punching, bleeding. 5 years since my father turned into a monster. 5 years since my mother left us. 5 years since my mother jumped off the bridge.

You have an idea of who I am; depicting me as the broken 17-year-old who would rather be anywhere but at home. Who must sleep with the bedroom door locked because he wants to be woken up by his alarm instead of a kick to the stomach by his own father.

Anyways, back to the story, I don't want your pity.

As I finished my joint, the backdoor was kicked open. Oh shit. The teacher followed me. I pressed myself against the wall, hoping that somehow, I will become part of the wall. Maybe if I close my eyes and I don't see him he won't see me-

"Mother of crap!" Okay the teacher doesn't have a high-pitched voice. Opening my eyes, I leaned forward to see who was there with me, only to find the Loner...what's her name again? Cameron? Carmella?

I watched her rub her shin with the attempt of soothing the pain, only making it worse as she continued to mutter a bunch of swear words under her breath. She then pulled her phone out of her bag and proceeded to make a call.

"Hey Oscar, it's me, Camilla." Oh, it's Camilla not Carmen. "Listen, I'm going to run a little bit late, but I'll come over to Le Pub in thirty minutes. Also, don't let Marina near the shelf, you know how she always steals a bottle or two."

She ends the call, put the phone back in the bag and took out her cigarettes. I watched her as she smoked one after the other, leaning her head against the wall and close her eyes as she exhaled the smoke. She looked, exhausted, worn out even.

"You know it's not nice to eavesdrop," she spoke, her eyes still closed. Crap, she knew I was there. "You're not the only one hiding and waiting to smoke out here." She finally opened her eyes and looked at where I was currently hiding. I didn't have much of a choice but to come out of my hiding spot. As I stood up, I tried not to wince or hiss from the constant shooting pains. Sh might've noticed but didn't push it. I then stood in front of her, and she offered a cigarette, although I have to say, I'm more of a weed person, but hey, if they offer you a free cigarette, you'd be a fucking idiot if you turn it down. So here we were, two misfits smoking at the back of the school.

"Excited to come back?" I asked her. It's no secret that Camilla didn't have any friends, she made it abundantly clear at the start of year 11.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, amusement in her eyes. "I'm jumping with joy," her voice dripped with sarcasm. "If I hear another 'pop my cherry' story I'm going to lose my mind."

I scoffed as I exhaled the smoke, "Jealous?"

"Not really," she chook her head "Word of advice, don't have sex on the beach, sand gets everywhere." I winced and shook my head, yeah that's a hard fucking no.

Camilla finished her cigarette and threw the rest of it to the floor, making sure to put it out with her chunky boot. "Well, I better get going," she began. "My shift starts in 20 minutes."

We both said our goodbyes and I watched her leave, the backdoor closing behind her. From afar, I heard the jocks in the parking lot, clearly indicating that their training or whatever it was, was finished for the day. I pressed the rest of my cigarette against the wall and limped towards the door, finally facing my reality; the reality that I was so adamant in avoiding.

I guess some of us aren't born with luck. 

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Hello my Fine Specimens!

I know I haven't been very consistent with my updates and I take full responsibility. It has been very hard. It has been very hard to get back up and start writing, especially after these rough couple of months. I have been seeking help, working on myself and getting back on track. Even though I have seen a massive improvement in my mental health, it's not easy to get back into doing the things you love the most However, it is also important to realise and understand that it is okay. It is okay to pause, take breaks and prioritise yourself. I can finally say that I am happy to be back and ready to give you guys what you all want.

I love you all ❤️