Suicidal Smile

Chapter 2: Delivery

This story is copyrighted to bnstorymaker

All rights reserved ©2013-2015

: Amanda's PoV:

When I was on my way to lunch I saw one of my students- I believe his name was Trevor- mingling with some other boys. At the time, there was no one else in the hallway except for this small group, so I thought they were all friends who were going to show up to class a few minutes late.

When I saw one boy grab Trevor by the shoulder and shove him towards his locker, I knew this was odd. Those were not his friends! As I approached closer, I heard one boy insult Trevor, but he just stood still.

Why didn't Trevor punch the kid after he had said such hurtful words to him? Even though I was a teacher I wanted Trevor to sock him, but he hadn't so I stepped in. While I was here, those boys would not insult any student of mine!

Trevor bent down to pick up his books that these jerks spit on and before he reached them I stepped on it. Trevor looked up in surprise while the other boys scurried away. I'll deal with them tomorrow.

"Trev, are you all right? Did those boys hurt you? What was going on?"

"I'm fine. We were just...talking..."

'Yes! I got his name right!' I silently congratulated myself before speaking.

"Talking?" I questioned.

He had nodded before he took off, "I have to go."

I just watched him leave. He was a very strange boy. Perhaps I'll make a mental note to check out his school records, but for now I have to deal with those bullies.

: Lori (Trevor's mom) PoV:

The house had been consumed in silence once Trevor came home, which wasn't unusual. Usually, Trevor spent most of his time in his room alone and wasn't as sociable as he used to be.

I missed the old Trevor, the Trevor, who used to wake up each morning happy, who used to go outside and pick flowers for me whenever he played with friends or took the trash out. But that was seven years ago.

He had so many friends, and everything was going great for him, but then "things" changed, he changed, and I couldn't blame him.

I had begun to cry, and I was no longer in the mood to cook.

"Maybe I should check on him and make sure he was okay?"

I threw my apron over one of the dining room chairs and left the kitchen. I slowly made my way up our wooden steps and called for him.

"Trev, are you alright? I'm just coming to see if you need anything."

There was no answer. When I made it to his room, I knocked.

"Trev? If you are upset about anything you know, you can talk to me. I am your mother, and I just don't want you to be hurting anymore."

There was no answer again. Maybe he was sleeping? I shook my head. Something was telling me to go inside and see if he was alright and a sudden feeling of worry crept into my chest.

Acknowledging that his door was locked, I broke the door's hinges hastily, and I peered into his room. Once I realized he wasn't hanging around in his room, my eyes shifted the bathroom. I began to shake as I twisted the knob.

"Please be only using the bathroom." I pleaded to myself.

But when I opened the door a familiar sight came into my vision, a sight no mother would want to see. Blood smeared against the white tiled floor, and Trevor lay limp in the back corner with blood still oozing from the cuts on his arms and legs. He looked at me with his gray eyes, so dull with no emotion and not a care in the world.