the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

true colors

i didn't write this at camp i got inspired by trolls

also it's all lowercase because i'm using my mom's computer and i'm too lazy to capitalize

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

trigger warning: mentions of self-harm, depression, and eating disorders

scott wasn't happy. sure, he was in the "popular" group at school, but they weren't nice to him. they constantly made jokes about how he was too ugly and too stupid and too fat to actually be friends with them, but they just felt bad for him and talked to him anyway.

he starved himself to try and lose weight, but it didn't matter. the jokes kept on coming, and while he pretended to laugh at them like they didn't bother him, they hurt. he hated himself, but no one seemed to care. no one bothered to look beyond his fake smile and his bright clothes to see how much pain he was hiding.

he hurt himself every night in a fruitless attempt to let the pain go. he wanted it to go away, more than anything, so he thought if he hurt himself physically it would distract him from the pain in his mind. his wrists and sides and thighs were littered with tiny cuts, covered by the baggy sweatshirts and leggings he wore to school every day. no one knew, and he planned to keep it that way for a while. however, one day, a new kid came into school. he was small and cute, but the popular kids didn't deem him worthy of their attention, so he didn't have any friends. scott rarely saw him, except for science class.

scott knew the boy's name was mitch, from the teacher taking attendance at the beginning of class. they sat next to each other, but they didn't talk much, unless mitch was asking for a pencil or help on a problem. scott always gave him a pencil and he always helped him, because that was what he did. he poured every bit of himself into other people, so much so that he had nothing left.

mitch didn't know what to think of the boy who sat next to him in science class. at first, he thought he was just a snooty popular kid like all of the others, but then he began to look closer. he could see the deep helplessness in his gaze, and occasionally when he would pass him a pencil, his sleeve would ride up and reveal the fine lines on his wrist. he knew scott hoying wasn't like the rest of the popular kids. sometimes, at lunch, he could hear the popular kids making fun of scott from all the way across the cafeteria.

it was on a late thursday morning when they first had a conversation that was longer than a few words. mitch watched the popular kids drop scott off at class with one last, "have fun in science, fat ass. maybe today you'll actually get a question right," and he watched scott stumble inside when his supposed friends shoved him into the classroom. scott sighed and fixed his sweatshirt with shaking hands, then held his books tighter to his chest as he made his way to his seat next to mitch. he offered weak smiles to the students who said hello to him, but he didn't say anything back. as soon as he sat down, he got out his notebook and began to work on the warm-up on the board, keeping his gaze on his paper. mitch watched him curiously, tilting his head.

"they don't seem like very good friends."

scott looked over abruptly at the sound of mitch's voice, startled. then, his face melted into a frown as he shook his head. "no, they are. they are good friends," he said quietly, but mitch could hear the exhaustion in his voice. mitch rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, raising a challenging eyebrow. "you aren't fooling me, scott. i see the way they treat you. i mean, come on. friends don't call each other fat asses." scott nodded and self-consciously pulled his sweatshirt down, as though trying to hide himself from mitch's scrutinizing stare. "yes, they do," he argued. "it's a term of endearment."

"are you kidding me right now? they're horrible people, scott. i know you know this. they're constantly calling you names, and making fun of you, and i wouldn't be surprised if they beat you up to practice for their other victims. you shouldn't be friends with them."