Jet Black Heart//A.I.

13

Few weeks later

I walked through the halls, face emotionless as the whispers around me surround me. Drowning me slowly. These halls were a battlefield, classrooms a new game of statue as I sat still as stone, somehow hoping that I could just blend into the background.

My eyes drifted yet again to that empty seat just to the right of the teachers seat. The plastic chair that'll remain empty now, perhaps even forgotten as nobody dares to sit in it. It was her chair, they were somehow treating it as if it was some reminder of her.

But that's stupid because she's dead. Six feet under that sweet, peaceful ground. She's gone. And it's just a stupid plastic chair...

But it's my fault... But it's not. You never told her to kill herself, you're only hated now. They blame you, but fail to see that you're in pain. They don't care. They never care Ashton. Trust us, after all have we ever been wrong?

"Mr. Irwin! Come up here and solve this problem!" The math teacher yelled at me. 30 pairs of eyes, those terrible, judgmental eyes turn back and looks at me. Their stares burning holes through my clothes, through the skin down to the bone, revealing the darkness that lies within. I stood up a slowly and made my way down that isle of seats

Hate him
It's his fault
He's just a fuckboy
"He's just like his father, a worthless bastard"

That made me stop and clench my fist
"What did you say?" I said lowly, teeth grinding against each other as I turn around to be faced with one of the "jocks". He was a few inches taller then me, hard hair and dark eyes.

"I said you're just like your father. Just a worthless bastard that goes from girl to girl." He said as he took a step towards me. The demons in my heads roared

Just like your father.
But you're not like him.
You're worthless.
You're. Like. Your. Father.

I shook my head and closed my eyes slowly "The lil fuckboy is a little crybaby... I wonder if your mum cried like Angelica did." That sentence made my blood freeze. Night after night mum cried, her whimpers and tears caught inside her pillowcase, trapped inside those suffocating walls. Did blondie cry too? Cry her feelings into her pillow, attempting to trap her feelings, as if the pillow was her therapist and she was venting. Each drying tear yet another secret kept between her and the inanimate cotton.

She's nothing like your mother.

"Maybe if your mum hung herself then you'd know what it's like to lose your mind."

"shut the fucking hell up" I growled, gritting my teeth.

"She should've kept her legs closed, but maybe your mum is just a slut."

Just like your father...

Mum is not a slut.

Make him regret this decision Ashton

Set us free, let us take care of him for you.

I opened my eyes slowly, and before I knew it my fist was colliding against his jaw. But it wasn't enough. The teachers voice was faded out, washed out as I threw another punch, sending him staggering back as he gripped the desk as an attempt to stay upright. His eyes met mine for a moment, filled with anger at first but after we made eye contact his face drained color. I smirked as I punched him yet again. Over and over again.

I'm not my father.
But I'm not Ashton either
I'm a monster.

*****
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