AN/: Hello, and welcome to the Prologue of Weeds. I'm very excited for this little plot bunny of mine to come to life, and I really hope that I can give it the attention that is deserves! By the way, keep in mind that I have not read much of Homestuck so I may accidently slip into some OOC circumstances~
It was like this every day. The lockers loomed like beasts above his head, while their masters snickered and giggled at his figure. He'd felt the glances; the whispered comments pierced like daggers into his turned back. The pity of those who didn't make a fool of him burned like alcohol against his raw flesh, and it was a pain to simply exist within the hell of his school. Pain didn't simply end when the abuse was finished, however; its searing wounds blazed through his chest every waking moment. Often he'd find himself staring at his ceiling, littered with plastic glow-in-the-dark stars, trying to numb the pain their muttered words left upon his upper body. He didn't feel pain any lower. He didn't really feel anything lower than that anymore.
The numbness of his lower body became nothing but a figment of his imagination; almost as if his legs simply no longer existed. It was as if the windy breeze simply carried them off into the sunset, where he'd no longer have to stare at them. Oftentimes he didn't mind it, the ghostly feeling that is. He didn't have to feel the dead weight that would never move again connected to the rest of his functioning body, but just knowing they were there managed to upset him. Even now he refused to glance at the stiff appendages, glaring at his darkened plaster walls in disdain.
"Why can't I be normal," he mumbled into the caress of his pillow, flattening his face against it. "And walk...maybe even feel grass or dirt under my toes?" Voice cracking, he ignored the sting in his eyes. He suffered this fate every night, reduced to mere whimpers and meek tears from the hate, the abuse. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he missed being 'normal'. He missed the times when he blended into the background; when he could simply exist without being a bold streak of metal in the hallways. Sighing against the fabric, he let his head rest into his pillow and closed his watery eyes, desperate for sleep while it was still within his grasp. And with that Tavros Nitram entered a world of fitful slumber, the only place he could truly fly.
AN/: Don't worry, not all chapters are going to be this short! I just wanted to get a starting point for the story, as well as giving a bit of a teaser. Hopefully the first chapter will be complete by tomorrow night, so you won't have to wait long for an update! Reviews are very much appreciated, as well as critiques, but please no flaming!