Go away. - Salvis.

V

|| there is a trigger warning for this chapter, I know I've already talked about it before, but in this chapter there are mentions of SH and a Su!c!d3 attempt. Please be warned🫶 ||

The next day at school, Travis wore a short sleeved white collar shirt, but not the same exact one as the day before because that one had been dirtied with blood and now had burn marks on it.. He thought about it as he rode the bus to school, but he shook off the thought, he didn't care if that shirt was burned. He had plenty of others that he could use.

As Travis sat in his seat, he had switched where he sat, he was in the very back. That way nobody could see his scars or the burn marks that were scattered across his body, of course somebody was bound to see when he went inside the school, but he was safe until then. He was sitting up straight, he backpack beside him. It hurt too much to have his back against the chair or anything touching his arms right now.

When they arrived at the school, Travis stood up nervously, like he was actually shaking. He held his backpack in one hand, not allowing it to touch his back or arms. He walked down the aisle, he had passed Sal and Larry, not letting them get up first. He walked all the way to the front of the bus, then getting off. He walked to his locker when he got inside the school, opening it and grabbing his things, typical stuff to do before class started.

Travis had took a glance over, he swore he just saw blue hair. He glanced over once again, he saw that Sal was standing beside him, their lockers weren't too far apart, so it made sense. But still, he got nervous when he saw him. He shut his locker, locked it and began to walk off, until he was stopped, his shirt being tugged from behind. He turned around, seeing that it was Sal who had tugged him, he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"Why did you touch me, Freak?" He pointed out, his arms crossed, but he winced quietly and uncrossed them, anything touching his arms hurt him, even if it was just a light touch. "What happened? Are you alright?" Sal questioned, in a genuinely concerned voice. Travis was confused for a minute, but then realized that his scars, burns, bruises, and other marks all over his arms were visible to everybody. Maybe that's why he had been getting weird looks all morning.

Travis just sort of stared at Sal for a moment before responding in an arrogant, resentful tone. "Is that any of your business? Piss off, faggot." He then let out a huff and began to walk away, again. But then, his arm was grabbed, very gently, by Sal. Travis winced in pain, shoving Sal to the ground before he even allowed him to speak, his arm now free. He looked down at Sal, who was now sitting on the ground..god Travis hated that mask of his, could never tell what he was really feeling. He spat at Sal before finally, actually walking away to class.

When he got into the classroom, he sat down in his seat. He wasn't the first one there, but he wasn't the last one either. But from the people who were in the classroom? He got a lot of stares. He felt agitated as he felt as if everyone was looking at him, being the center of attention made him anxious, of course. Despite wanting attention all the time..it was weird but, he understood it all. Travis laid his head down, listening to the teacher speak. And as he did, eventually he shut his eyes, falling asleep.

As the class was nearing its end, Travis was awoken to someone calling his name, seeing that it was his teacher who had woken him up, his body tensed, nervous. "Travis, do you want to tell me what the answer to number 7 is? Or do you want to wake up and pay attention to the rest of the lesson so that you CAN answer questions?" The teacher retorted, in a voice that would make anyone get embarrassed. Travis rolled his eyes and set his head on his hand, the only place that wasn't completely messed up.

Travis kept thinking about what Sal had said. Why did he ask? Sal didn't care, did he? Travis shook his head at the thought, but kept getting lost in his thoughts as he questioned to himself why Sal did what he did. What would he have said if Travis didn't shove him? Soon enough, the bell rang and Travis, along with all students were dismissed. He grabbed his things and left the classroom quickly, rushing to his locker and grabbing the stuff he needed for his next class.

The day continued on for another agonizing 6 and a half hours. The whole day was boring in all. Travis packed up all of his things, it was heavy, making it even more annoying to carry it with one hand, although his arms were starting to feel better at gentle touches, he still couldn't wear the backpack against his back. He didn't take the bus to go home today, since he had to go straight to church and Kenneth, for some reason, refused to pick him up. But he didn't bother Kenneth about it. He didn't want to get beat again just for asking a simple question.

As he arrived at the church, he cleaned up before people began to get there, as he saw cars beginning to pull into the parking lot of the church, he went to the door, greeting everyone and holding the door for them. He was familiar with most of the people who came in, since it was people who came to church regularly. None of them questions the marks Travis had that lingered all across his arms, and a few on his face. They just looked at him for a moment before walking inside. Travis was about to go inside when he saw rain beginning to drizzle from the sky, and nobody was there anymore but..then he was met with an unfamiliar face, well, just one unfamiliar, the other he knew very well.

He welcomed the unfamiliar face, and then looked at the child who was beside him, the same age as Travis. Fuck. Sal fisher. It seemed like he was everywhere, he allowed Henry to walk inside, but then he shut the door and shoved Sal backwards a bit, almost making him fall down the stairs that led up to the door. "What the fuck are you doing here? You wouldn't even dream of coming to church. And I know for a fact this wasn't your fathers idea." Travis spoke in a exasperated tone, he was genuinely confused as to why Sal was basically following him around everywhere, but he covered up that confusion with anger in his voice instead.

"Trav, I'm worried about you. You barely spoke to me today at school, not even in your usual..angry way. You just shoved me and left. And you have a bunch of bruises, and I'm well aware you haven't gotten into any fights recently, so please. You can talk to me you know?" Sal spoke in a genuine, compassionate voice filled with concern. But Travis just came to the conclusion that Sal was lying and he didn't mean a thing that he said. And with that, Travis rolled his eyes. "Shut up. You know for a fact you aren't worried about me. Just fuck off. I don't need you pretending to care about me." He spoke in a harsh voice, opening the church door and walking inside, forcing Sal to open it himself to be with his dad.

After about two hours or so, Church was over. It was pouring rain, drops of rain tapping on the windows of the church loudly. Travis held the door and thanked them all for coming, when it came to Henry and Sal, Travis thanked Henry, but not Sal. Instead he just gave Sal an annoyed look and sighed, watching as he walked away. He then walked inside the church after everyone was gone. He collected his stuff and then went with Kenneth into the car, sitting in the front seat, sitting up straight, making sure the car seat didn't touch his back, as it was still painful.

When they got home, Travis groaned quietly seeing that the sink was full of dishes. Meaning he had to clean all of them. He walked to the sink, grabbing a sponge and soap. "Travis! Make sure to clean the dishes!" Kenneth yelled, already halfway up the stairs. Travis huffed with clear annoyance, he was already doing them and Kenneth had seen he was before he had went upstairs, so why say anything?

He finished doing the dishes a few minutes later, and when he did, his head started filling with horrible thoughts about everything he said to Sal. He was sitting down on his desk in his bedroom as he thought about it..without thinking, he stood up, locking his bedroom door, connecting his phone to the speaker he had, turning the volume up slightly loud, loud enough so it could hide what he was doing, but quiet enough Kenneth wouldn't yell at him to shut it off. Perfect. He just blasted music at that volume, then began to look through his drawers and under his pillows, till he remembered where he had put what he was looking for.

He reached down, lifting up his mattress and grabbing a box cutter he had. He grabbed it, taking a deep breath as he looked at his wrists. He couldn't take it anymore, he really couldn't. He felt like a horrible person, no matter what, and nobody could convince him otherwise. And plus, who would really care? He took another deep breath, holding the blade above his wrists before finally, trying to cut a vein.

and surprise surprise. Blood dripping from his wrists. Guess just what else happened to him?