unfinished fics

Procrastination

AN: So I only wrote one chapter for this story, but its pretty cliche and you could probably find a similar one that's so much better than this one. Also yes that is the original cover. I will be attaching all the og covers to each fic. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one.

Also I was 14 when I wrote this so if its shitty, that's why.

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dan

I walked down the empty corridor of the third school I've transferred to this year.

People are harsh, and according to my mum, the best way to deal with harsh people is to run away and to never be seen around them again. It's cowardly, but so am I, so I agree to go through with moving and transferring until I feel safe in an environment that'll accept me as I am. That will probably never happen though. Being me just brings bad things into my light.

I guess I'm just an easy target.

I was always one to keep to myself and to not acknowledge others. I guess you'd call me a social outcast. I'm fine with it, though. I've always been alone. I've never had any real friends, and I'm an only child with a work-a-holic mum that never seems to be home and a dad that died not long before I was born. You could say that it's sad, but honestly, I don't mind. I like being independent and caring for myself. It only makes me more mature.

Don't get me wrong, I would much rather a life where I didn't have to grow up so fast with a mum that is physically and mentally there when I need, but I don't so I make the most out of what I have. Mum is doing the best she can to make sure I have food and the roof over my head, and I can't thank her enough for that.

I looked at the numbers above the doors of the classrooms, looking for my first class which was Art. I was sort of dreading it. I'm not an artist, but I needed another class. I figured I could pretend to be an abstract artist for the year.

210, 209, 208... 207. I walked up to the old wooden classroom door. The knob was worn and dingy with spots of rust all over it. It wasn't surprising, honestly. According to this school's way-to-proud principal, Mr. Perry, this school has been around since the early 40s, and it shows. It seems as if the only thing they've changed about the doors within the past 50 years were the windows which were blurred and most likely plastic. It doesn't even seem like they bothered to repaint the doors. It was quite a tragedy.

I felt my heart pound in my chest. I was nervous to say the very least. I've done this so many times before but the nerves never seemed to go away. I hesitated to knock. This was the beginning of being a new student in a school that I'll most likely leave in a month.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I heard the shuffling of desk then, which made me even more nervous than I was before. I hated being the center of attention, but it's hard to go unnoticed as a new kid, especially if you're 6'3. 99.9% of the time I am the tallest in my class, making me stick out like a sore thumb.

The other 0.1% doesn't exist, by the way.

The door opened not long after, and I was greeted by an older looking woman with short blond hair wearing a paint splattered apron. She gave me a kind smile. "You must be Daniel; am I correct?" she asked. I nodded, and my gaze fell to my feet. I'm not one for social interaction, as you probably could tell. I guess it comes with being alone all the time. "Oh love, you aren't shy, are you?" I shrugged, not knowing how to respond. She gave me a smile that seem to scream the word 'pity'. "That's okay. Come on in," she said, opening the door wider.

As soon as I walked in, all eyes were on me. I felt my whole body tense up. "You can sit where ever you'd like, Daniel," the teacher said as she walked toward her desk.