Polluted

Prologue

Greenfield Middle School; Feb. 6, 20XX 8:15am
“Boys are all the same; they don’t care about your feelings, just their own.” Tamara tells her friend, Leilah. “Don’t waste your money and time trying to get his attention on V-day. Life isn’t like some shoujo manga, you know!” “B-but…” Leilah tries to speak up, but her voice is drowned out by her friend’s harsh words. “If I were to describe him in one word, it’d be ‘garbage’. He’s the type of person who treats others like trash, yet he’s always asking for their help.”

“Don’t say that, Tamara! Edvard is different, and I know it!” She tries to argue back, almost in tears. Tamara clicks her tongue, and a wolfish glare takes over her eyes.

“I’m not telling you this because I hate boys, you know that right? I don’t want you to get hurt. Remember Kenrick? You said the same thing about him, and look what happened; he cheated on you!” She shouts at her--voice low and threatening.

“I’m just going to be blunt and tell you this: it hurts me to see you like this! It’s like my advice goes in one ear and then out the other. Actually, I don’t even consider my words advice; they’re the truth!”

Just then, someone grabs Tamara shoulder and spins her around, forcing her to look at them. It was Maybelle. “Enough Tamara! She’s already been through alot.” She exclaims.

“What? It’s not like she can’t live a happy life without a boyfriend. I mean, look at me. I’m as happy as I can be!”

“Well some people aren’t like you.”

“It’s okay, Leilah. She’s just jealous that she doesn’t have a crush or boyfriend like you do.” A faint voice says, and Tamara looks to where Leilah was standing. A group of girls surrounds her and comforts her with pats on the back and fake smiles plastered on their faces. While walking back to her seat, Tamara glares at them, then she breathes out a sigh and shrugs it off. “People just don’t understand.” She mumbles to herself.

•   •   •   •

Morris Household; Feb. 6, 20XX 6:00pm
“Everett,” Delroy, his older brother, calls out to him from the doorway. “What?” Everett responds, not looking up from his sketching book. “What’re those bruises on your arm?” Everett freezes in place--and starting to shake a bit--panicking about what he should say. “Oh, it’s from playing volleyball in P.E. Don’t worry about it, Brother.” He lies and looks up at the taller figure leaning on the door frame, forcing a smile onto his face, but Delroy’s expression does not falter from the serious one he has always had whenever it comes to his younger brother.

“You’re not being bullied, are you?” Delroy asks with a voice lower than his usual cheerful tone. His words pierce through Everett like a double-edged sword, and he begins to stammer, showing nervousness. “W-what makes you think that? I already told you it was from playing volleyball, didn’t I?” Everett exclaims, voice becoming more sterner as he continues speaking, and his bright blue eyes gleam with irritation. And even though Delroy knows his brother is angry at him, he couldn’t help but to be breathless by the sight infront of him.

Everett’s eyes are shining a bright blue in his dim room, with a sunset radiating behind him through his open window, and a light gust of wind enters the room.

Then there’s a silence, and Delory decides to appease his younger brother and go-with-the-flow. He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair--which has become a habit for him whenever he’s stressed or giving in to someone--and Everett’s stiff muscles relaxes out of relief. “Alright, whatever you say. But if you are being bullied you better tell me, you hear?” “Yes, Brother.”

•   •   •   •

The next day, after Everett gets off the bus, he accidentally bumps into someone. “Ah, sorry.” An unfamiliar voice says, and Everett closes his eyes and begins to shake, waiting and readying himself for the punch or kick that's coming. But, it never came. Surprised, he slowly opens his eyes as he meets another's gaze.

It was a boy with dark atomic tangerine or pantone orange hair with some of his bangs tied back. The boy also had bright, gleaming eyes that Everett got lost in, he's never met anyone with eyes as bright and an unique color like his.

This was all new to him.

After he recognized that he was staring, Everett's face quickly flushes a dark red and he looks down, running off into his school--Rutherford Middle School. The green eyed boy cocks his head in confusion as he watches Everett’s back get smaller and smaller. "Hey, who was that?" He asks his friend. "Oh, him? That's Everett Morris."

"Everett Morris?"

"Yeah, he gets bullied alot and rarely speaks. He's been in my class since kindergarten and I have never heard his voice."

"Is he deaf or something?"

"No, he can hear."

The 2 continue to talk as they walk into their school and into their classrooms. "Ah, you must be Maxwell Hayley, the new student." Their teacher, Mr. Stanley, asks and he claps his hands, calling everyone's attention towards him. "Class, we have a new student here with us today. Would you like to introduce yourself." "Yes sir." Maxwell says.

"I'm Maxwell Hayley, it's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Hey, he's kind of cute, isn't he?"

"I love his eyes!"

"His hair color is kind of weird, don't you think?"

All sorts of comments are made as Maxwell scans the room, and his eyes land on Everett, who is sitting all the way in the back row in the corner, doodling in his sketchbook. "You may sit wherever you'd like." Mr. Stanley says, and Maxwell nods in response. He looks towards his best friend, Damian, and the seats around him are all filled up already.

He looks back at Everett and notices that the seats around him are all empty, and the green eyed boy feels his chest tightening with sadness as he remembers his friend's words.

"Yeah, he gets bullied alot and rarely speaks..."

Just then, he notices that everyone is staring at him as he takes a step towards Everett's desk, and the atmosphere suddenly drops.

"Is he going to sit with that dude?"

"I feel bad for him..."

"But there are other seats open, right?"

What the-

Pressure, Maxwell's worst enemy since he was a child. All the eyes staring at him, judging him by his movements towards Everett... how can this be? He's just going to sit in a desk, what's wrong with that? "Maxwell?" Mr. Stanley calls out to him, causing him to snap back into reality.

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a second, I'll sit down now." Maxwell responds with a forced smile on his face. Instead of sitting next to Everett like he wanted to, he sat in an empty desk that was in the 3rd row. He looks back at the dark brown haired boy with a slightly pained expression, and he mentally apologizes to him.

On Everett’s behalf, this was a normal occurance whenever there's a new kid. They'd always sit in another seat even though all the seats around him are empty. This isn't anything new. Everett tells himself as he finishes the drawing he was working on since last night. It's a recreation of a drawing of him, his brother, and what he imagined their parents would look like. He found his drawing back from elementary school under his bed, and whenever he finds drawings from the past he always recreates them, no matter how long ago it was.

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Another story? AGAIN? I know I know, I should finish my other stories before creating new ones, it's just that I always get an endless amount of story/fanfic ideas throughout the day and I just can't ignore them, I need to take action before I forget them! So please bare with me!

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