Help me... (a tommyinnit angst fanfic)

Phil's assignment

Third person POV:

The halls of the school building were silent. All the students were in class learning and having fun, passing notes or whispering little bits of gossip to one another. In class 9A, Wilbur Soot was showing off as Technoblade mocked him, in a friendly way. In class 9B, Tubbo and Ranboo were talking about anything that came to mind, whether it was bees or books, they didn't care. However, in class 9C, a debate was becoming very heated.

"Thomas! Sit down and stop disrupting the class!" yelled the teacher at the front.

"Make me, you bastard!" the child yelled back. The other students gasped, some in horror, and some in delight.

"Get out of my classroom!"

"You don't own it you stupid cow! And you're the one teaching us?! Ha! We've failed already, boys!" Thomas said to the class, despite there being all genders in the room.

"GO TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE!!"

"MAKE ME!" 

"THOMAS!"

"MY NAME ISN'T THOMAS! ITS TOMMY! FUCKING STUPID BITCH!"

The door to the class swung open and a boy walked in, instantly saying,"Language!", hearing Tommy's profanities.

"FUCK OFF!" Tommy was becoming agitated, slamming his hands on the table with every syllable he said. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"The principal wishes to see you," replied the boy who walked in.

"I suggest you leave, Thomas."

That was the final straw. He walked slowly and deliberately to the front of the class, maintaining eye contact with the woman at the front.

"Fuck you," he hissed. Then he pounced.

The teacher was knocked to the floor and had two smallish hands on her throat blocking the airway.

"CALL ME THOMAS AGAIN! I DARE YOU!"

Tommy's POV:

That name. Oh, that wretched name. He calls me that. He only uses my name when he's about to hurt me. Then she decides to use it as well. I was pissed.

I had my hands around her throat, and I was yelling something, but I was so blinded by rage, that I couldn't hear myself.

Someone's arm was wrapped around my shoulders and the other one around my waist. I was being dragged off of the woman, but I was fighting so I could get back and kill her. She would've been so dead. I heard whispering in my ear.

"Come on, muffin, you were doing so well..."

I growled, but I started to walk out the class, hitting away his arms. He has a strange name. Bad. What kind of name is that? Especially since everything about him screamed teachers pet. He never even swore!

The door shut behind me, and I screamed and punched the lockers closest to me. Over and over, as I took out my frustration on them. Finally, something I could control. Something that makes sense. I'll hit the locker, and it'll dent. Simple. It was becoming disfigured and bloodied. I stopped when I noticed the blood. I looked at my hands. Shit. I whimpered quietly. How did I get this bad?

"C'mon, Tommy, the principal wanted to see you at 10:00 and now it's 10:02," I looked up to see Bad looking nervous. He was probably never late for anything. Until now. I sighed and followed him.

We eventually made it to the principals office, and Bad knocked with three sharp knocks.

"Come in, Bad and Tommy," came a voice from inside. Was that their secret knock or something? I quickly looked on the roof. Ah. Cameras. To keep everyone in line. Of course. We entered the office.

"You may leave now, Bad, thank you," the principal dismissed. He was sat behind his desk, gesturing for me to sit down in the one of the chairs opposite. But there was another person in the other chair.

He had strawberry blonde hair and looked about 20. He looked at me and smiled. I scowled back. He looked nice, but they always do. He wasn't there for a good reason. What did I do now? Was he here to take me to another school? Or arrest me for assault? You can't arrest a 14 year old, right? 

I decided to stay stood up. If I needed to get away, it would be easier.

The principal sighed, "You may stay stood up, Thoma- Tommy." He hastily corrected himself. "Phil, this is Tommy, Tommy this is Phil."

"That's nice to know, can I go back to class now?" I responded. 'Phil' looked amused. I looked at him. No badges or lanyard on him. His pockets were empty, but I could see the outline of something square in his right pocket, presumably a wallet. I looked at his shoes. Sneakers. Covered in mud. So he can run. If I leave he'll run after me. Wait a minute... I looked at the principal in horror. He wouldn't. I don't want this to be want I think it is.

"You can go back to class soon. You are here because Phil," Phil waved, "is going to be your behavioural tutor."

"No! I'm not doing that! No! You can't do that to me!"

"I've already decided. Phil will monitor your behaviour in class, and hopefully get to the root of your problems. You're a bright and intelligent boy, but you just don't apply yourself."

I screamed and turned around, punching the wall. My hands hurt like hell, but I didn't care. Then someone grabbed my wrists.

"Mate, please don't do that. You don't need to hurt yourself, you can talk about your problems, you know that, don't you?" Phil had knelt down in front of me. I attempted to pull away, but he held onto me. I started to panic. Why wouldn't he let go? I kicked him and he fell backwards, so I bolted.

"Tommy! Come ba..." Their shouts were drowned out by the blood rushing to my ears and the air whistling, deafening me, as I ran down the halls. I could hear my own shaking, hyperventilating breaths as I turned the corner. The disabled toilet. No one uses that. I swung open the door and closed it, locking it as well. I slid down the door and pulled my knees to my chest, tangling my hands into my hair. I cried quietly. Alone.

I'll always be alone...