Graverobber (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Five- Nobody's Hero

I return home by 12, the corpse deposited at the Rosetta Stone, where we know the contribute will pick it up. The risks I took today may have been dangerous, given what they've done to us before. But...the words "I don't care" come to my mind once again. But I do care. What could have happened tonight does scare me. But somewhere in the back of my mind, it would have been nothing more than I would have deserved.
I open the door. My parents are probably asleep. Or at work. Doesn't matter. I climb up the stairs to my room at the end of the hall. My bed looks way too appealing but I can't sleep.
I curl up on my mattress and prepare myself for another painful day with my mind keeping me awake all night.

I crawl out of bed in the morning later than I probably should have. My whole body feels heavy. I drag myself to the bathroom and the charcoal barely conceals the bags under my eyes.
I grab a pair of black jeans, they're fairly new and expensive but I really don't like them. Not that I like anything on my body nowadays. I grab a sweater and try not to look at myself as I pull it on. My figure looks hollow and ghastly even on a good day.
I grab my backpack with a prayer to the gods I don't believe in that I actually learn something that sticks in my head today. I head down stairs, down the cool white steps and polished silver railing. I've lived in this house my whole life, but sometimes it's too fancy for even me.

The kitchen is filled with light and the sparkle of a large chandelier dangles down. At the end of the large dining table with sleek, throne like chairs, my dad sips his tea.

"Morning." I say, blandly.

"Oh. Dreue." He startles, smiling weakly from under his cool blonde hair. "Good morning. Do you want breakfast?"

I reach over to the cabinet for a granola bar. "No. I should get going."

I hesitate, "Where's mom?"

My dad freezes. "She's at work. But you'll probably see her today. She should be back by six. Right when your speech club ends right? You better hurry."

He absently glances at the clock.

The only granola bars left are almond butter. I grit my teeth before I take it anyway.

I leave the kitchen, pull on my shoes, and hurry out of the door before he can say goodbye. I stare at my slip on shoes and force myself to tear my gaze from them. Head up and look straight, my brother would say. But he's not alive now. He doesn't know why I only wear slip on shoes, or why rope of any kind makes me tense. Shoe laces give me anxiety. Being tied up...even just to my feet is too much for me to take. I look up instead. The sky is empty and cloudless. Some people would call this good weather. I call it depressing. Because our school doesn't have a speech club. It's debate club. And it ended at 5. And it had for 2 fucking years.

I peel open the Almond butter granola bar. Dad knows I hate almond butter. I aggressively bite into it. The cloying taste overwhelms me for a heartbeat. I crush the bar with my fist and throw it onto the sidewalk. The sound of it hitting the ground isn't even satisfying. I step on it with my slip on shoes. Fuck my father. Fuck mother too. My fingers are trembling and I force myself to calm down. I have school to go to. The thought isn't comforting in the least.

I steal a donut from the school fundraiser when I get hungry. No one stops me.

Debate club is the only decent part of school. Partially because Tyler Snow, the senior I've been crushing on forever, is the captain of our team. Most people write debate off as a boring club. But really, it's ten times as fun as sports, mainly because there's no physical exertion involved, and you get to yell at people. What's not to like. Susan sits next to me in our meeting, because even if we aren't best buds, we're Grave-Defenders, and have been through things together that no one else could ever imagine. She's actually not that bad when we aren't at each other's throats.