text me back >> joshler

three > sophmore slump or still a sophmore slump. no comebacks of the year.

tyler;

sooner than planned, breakfast ended. the bell rang through the school, basically yelling, "hurry the fuck up and get to class." i groaned as i finished my last few bites of cereal and packed up my bag.

"whats your first?" i asked as i slid my phone into my back pocket and threw away the remains of my captain crunch.

"i have science first. you've got math, correct?" josh says, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. hm. he'd be a good message man.

"yeah."i groan and shudder slightly. "i swear, mr.Garcia is a rapist." i mention, adding disgust to my voice for effect. josh laughs and a smile creeps its way onto my face. from the corner of my eye i see him shake his head slightly.

"he does sorta give off a rapist vibe, doesn't he?" he says and i nod. we make our way upstairs in silence. but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable silence like usual. it was nice.

we make it to the top step and, dumbly, i follow him to his science class. as we come up to the door to the classroom i suddenly realize what the actual fuck im doing and clear my throat awkwardly.

"i, um, i guess ill go. see you at lunch?" i ask, walking backwards slowly but still facing josh till he answers the question.

"oh yeah, sure thing. see ya there ty." i smile at his nickname for me and waved before turning around quickly to hide the ever embarrassing blush rising on my face.

i was maybe ten feet away from my math classroom when i felt a slight gust of wind and a sudden stinging in my right side. i was apparently shoved at a locker. like every morning.

fuck.

"hey fagget. what stupid gay shit you doin today, huh?" jake fucken gregory. worst kid in the entire school. his friends laugh at his amazing joke. literally. I'm dying of laughter.

"what do you want fucktit?" i snarl as he grabs the back of my shirt collar, choking me slightly as he pulled me back up from the floor and pushing me against a locker. he was practically seething in my face. i could smell his god awful breath from how close we were.

"what did you just say to me, fag?" he spat, shoving me harder against the locker. i winced at the pain in my back from the lock.

"i called you a fucktit. bitch." i said with a smirk as he huffed and threw me to the floor. followed by a fatal kick to the stomach, causing all air to rush out of my lungs. he repeated the process of kicking me in my stomach as some of his friends cheered him on and two others helped. by now every one was back in their classes. aka, i was fucked.

i tasted a metallic liquid in my mouth just as blood spurted from my lips onto the floor. with one last punch to my kidneys, jake and his whores got up and left me on the floor. probably running off to go smoke shitty drugs.

i groaned as i tried to push myself off the floor. failing in the process and falling back to the floor with a wince. i tried another two times after failing as usual i decided to give up.

after about five minutes of laying on the ground i found the strength to pull myself from the floor and walk, well limp, to the boys bathroom to see what damage they had done today.

you see. this happens maybe three times a week, if I'm "lucky" two times. I'm pretty used to the whole ordeal. sometimes i make a stupid comment. sometimes I'm a little bitch. either way i knew their bruises only last enough to heal before the next week started. they take the liberty of leaving more and more every week.

i grab hold of the sink to steady myself and keep from falling as i review the damage of todays beating. i cringed as i notice a certain spot on my jawline was swollen and already on its way to bruising. i slowly lifted my shirt to see what they did to my stomach and well. nothing new.