Unwanted Hero

Thirteen.

I was so scared the day they let me out of the hospital.

The few days I spent there had been cautionary, to check my condition. Somehow, I escaped with only a major concussion and two black eyes.

Plus I was covered in bruising.

While I'd been in hospital, they'd given me painkillers and I was fine. I wouldn't have access to them at home, and I'd have to go to school.

Honestly, I was dreading it. Wouldn't you? The whole school wanted to kill me.

At least I had two friends. More than I'd ever had before. Sierra and Ashley would probably protect me as much as they could.

Although, as strong as Ashley was, I don't think she could fight off fifty students.

The car ride home was extremely awkward. Dad had come to pick me up alone, and he was so mad that I wouldn't admit what really happened.

"So, son. The headteacher said that they'll talk to you at school. You better tell her the truth." He warned.

I mumbled something under my breath and looked out of the window. "You're a happy kid. An idiot at times, but a happy kid. I don't know why you'd get in a fight."

If only he knew.

We pulled up into the driveway and I disappeared into my bedroom almost immediately.

By confronting Morgan I'd probably made the bullying so much worse. I was so afraid to check my phone.

I picked it up as if it were a bomb, ready to explode at any moment. As I turned it on, my heart pounded.

The little Apple logo appeared in the middle of the screen, and I bit my lip. Holy shit, what had they said?

As soon as it was properly on, it exploded with notifications, mostly from Facebook.

Forty messages and three hundred notifications. I went on my news feed, and saw hundreds of statuses about me.

Michael Bedford: Wow. Just witnessed fight of the year!! So glad I got a good kick in the emo fags face. Congrats Morgan m8!

What the fuck?

Morgan Stanford: That's the last time Kai messes with me!!! Like this if he should have died :)

It had one hundred and thirty two likes. I felt a stab in my chest. Maybe I should have died.

I reached under my bed and got out the box of alcohol and the knife. As fast as I could, I snatched the blade and stabbed it into my arms and dragged it down.

In one swift movement, I ripped off my t-shirt and started cutting my chest and stomach.

After I was bloodsoaked, I threw the blade down and picked up at random a bottle of some cheap, shitty alcohol and downed it in under a minute.

I lay back, panting. The pain was almost unbearable, so I took out another bottle and downed that too.

Carefully, I replaced everything in the box and hid it back under my bed. Now all I had to do was wait for the alcohol to kick in.

Then I'll probably be so drunk I forget my own name. Just how I like it.