Burn. Sting. Throb.

The halls of Casper High were crowded; filled with teenagers discussing mediocre topics such as the homecoming dance that was just weeks away, or the latest pool party that was being held at one of the popular kids' house. The buzz of excitement over the events was strong, touching each student; giving them the ability to get through another bleak, miserable school day.

One however, was unaffected by the excitement and happiness. He walked solemnly down the corridor with his back arched over in an exaggerated hunch as if he was carrying cinder blocks on each shoulder. The weight of the world holding him prisoner. His blue eyes were unfocused; avoiding the eyes that were slowly descending on him. Dark circles encased his eyes, which caught the attention of the bubbly teenagers surrounding him. Their discussions either paused or stopped completely as all their attention was now drawn to death itself passing by.

He groaned, aware of the attention that was now on him. He shuffled a bit as he walked, lowering his head so that his raven black hair hung over his eyes and disguised the state of his face. His eyes felt heavy with exhaustion; his body lethargic with abuse. He focused on putting as little weight on his left leg as possible without it being noticeable but the limp was clearly visible to those that watched, causing them to share looks of suspicion with each other. Even though he tried with all his efforts to hide it, every step he bit his lip to subdue the pain and the teeth marks were starting to mould the skin on his chapped lips.

"Oh my gosh! Did you see him?"

"Did he get into a fight with Dash? He must have done something for Dash to leave him in that state."

"Are you sure it was Dash? I mean, the kids an outcast. Maybe he got into drugs or something. He looks like a junkie! Didn't you see his eyes?!"

"I think his parents did it to him. They're proper freaks. Ghost hunters? What a load of crap. The weirdest are always the most disturbed."

He bit his lip again, this time to refrain himself from shouting out in retaliation at the accusations and gossip that reached his ears and infuriated him. Where did these kids imagine these things? Who could make up all these theories? He wanted to shout at them, defend his parents, explain what exactly had happened to him and the hell he has had to endure.

But his lips were sealed. His body a tomb of secrets and lies, bruises and cuts. He continued to avoid eye contact with everyone and was never more thankful to reach the end of the hall. He came to a locker that was dented multiple times and the lock a bit damaged and lopsided. The dated green paint was chipping away, allowing the metal material underneath to shine; reflecting the dull light from the ceiling.

He unconsciously mouthed the numbers as he twisted the dial on the lock. His eyes focused as it twisted back and fourth, as if it took everything he had to remember his code. It finally clicked open, allowing the teen access to his beloved abode to which he could hide his face using the door.

"Danny!" Her sweet voice ran through his ears and before he could turn to greet her, arms wrapped around his chest in a loving embrace. His body screamed at the sudden touch, sending sheering shocks of pain down every inch of his body. He was caught so off guard he couldn't not prevent the grunt of pain that escaped his lips. Darn it.

Sam blinked at the noise and stepped back from him. Her lilac eyes scanned him up and down with that of concern, noticing the cuts and marks on the frail boy. His skin was an eerie pale white even for that of a ghost. His eyes dark underneath with the lack of sleep. His bones stuck out in odd angles; a clear example of his malnourished state. It caused shadows to emphasize the hollowness of his cheekbones and brought her attention back to his eyes; they looked so sad and lifeless.

"Oh my gosh Danny..." The shock caught her breath. She had to pause for a moment to compose herself. "What on earth happened?! Are you okay?" The sense of urgency and worry in her voice made him feel guilty and he shuffled again, looking at his feet and avoiding her gaze. She leaned in close to ask the next question, fully aware of preying ears of Casper's inhabitants. "Did a ghost do this to you?"

"Sam I'm fine..." Danny attempted to dismiss her concern with a lame statement, turning his back to her and his focus back inside his locker. He rearranged some books and other miscellaneous items that resided in his locker. Maybe if he could appear normal he could reassure her he was okay.

But his Sam isn't a stupid girl. She grabbed his arm with a quick jerk and aggressively pulled up the sleeve of the baggy hoodie he had wrapped over his skeleton frame like a poncho. Her eyes widened at the dark marks that littered his arm; the white of his skin contrasted with the blotchy deep purples and blue marks. The sheer size and deep coloring alone was enough to suggest he had been through some sort of intense physical trauma. There were also small cuts and grazes to his skin that had not been correctly cleaned; the ectoplasm and his human blood had mix together and dried into his skin, leaving some nasty residue.

He pulled his arm away before she could see anymore damage. She looked up at him and opened her mouth to comment but he cut her off with a sharp comment. He didn't want to deal with her judging him. He just couldn't handle it today. "You have no right to just grab me like that."

"Danny. Please." Sam pleaded with him but her begging fell on deaf ears. He slammed his locker shut with enough force to make her flinch at the noise. The bang had caught the attention of some of the students around them, making Danny self-conscious once more. He felt like an animal behind the glass in the zoo. A laughing stock, a means of entertainment. She grabbed his arm once more with a more gentle, tender touch. "What happened?"

"I told you I'm fine." He sneered in response and pulled away from her, almost falling when he put the weight on his bad leg. He finally met her eyes, and what she saw worried her. his eyes were wild, but with what she didn't know and it didn't seem like he wanted to tell.

Before she could say anymore, he turned and hastily walked down the hall and out of sight. She was left standing alone, running over what just had occurred in her mind. A thousand questions repeated themselves over and over but trailed off to be left unanswered.

She sighed and her shoulders felt heavy with the stress and worry. Her eyes drifted from the spot he had darted off to his battered locker. He was a lot like it. Closed up; a damaged product that could be mended with a little sanding and some tender, loving care.

If only he would open up and let people help him.