Crimson Grin

I stared down at the grotesque drawing, concentrating as I retraced the outline of the misshapen skull. I was unaware of my environment; the small, cramped classroom that was filled to the brim with snobby, rude individuals. That of course, includes the teacher as well. My headphones were firmly placed in my ears, blocking out her nasally voice completely.

The drawing was almost finished, the only things being left was shading and details. That, of course, was the fun part. I began to sketch tiny, black spiders that fled from the skulls eye sockets, along with small fractures throughout the drawing. Suddenly, my headphones were viciously yanked from my earlobes, a dull ringing and slight sting being left behind.

My dark brown eyes flew up to the teacher, an exasperated expression pulling across my face. I was not in the mood for this today. The older woman's eyes were like daggers as she accusingly looked down at me, her aged face filled with disgust. I couldn't help but grin slightly as the woman, knowing how much I irritated her.

"Jovey, pay attention," her higher pitched, nasal voice squeaked. I rolled my eyes, wishing more than anything that I wouldn't have to hear that voice again.

I simply nodded as a reply, not wanting to communicate with the woman any longer. She huffed, stalking back over to her desk, her greying hair bobbing as she did. I sighed, putting one of my headphones back in my ear. I looked back down at my drawing, prepared to start once more. That's when the paper was snatched directly off of my desk. The bones in my knuckles popped one by one as I clenched up my fist, my head snapping over to the culprit.

Of course, the little gang of preps that was scattered around the school. And of course, refusing to be just like them, I was the victim of their abuse. Well, some of the time. Usually they are too terrified to approach, and I liked it that way. But apparently it wasn't going to be like that today. Repulsive looks decorated each of their faces as they took in my drawing, a satisfied smirk stretching across my lips.

"Freak," one of them mumbled, twisting around in their seat, avoiding my glare.

"Psycho," Jamie, a tiny blonde girl spat, her fake eyelashes covering most of her eyes as she tried to narrow them at me.

I tried to muffle my laugh, trying to not cause anymore controversy. Instead, I reached for my drawing, gripping the corner of it. I tugged on it slightly, the jock, Brady, who was holding it smirking, showing he had no intention on letting it go. Fabulous. It was going to be one of those days after all.

"I don't have time for this bullshit," I growled, pulling on it harsher than before.

"Very true. The bells about to ring, guess I can't have too much fun," he snickered, ripping the paper back, causing it to rip in half.

My eyes widened at the sight, the preps laughing their asses off. I was gripping one corner of the sheet of paper, and he was crumpling up the other. No good bastards… at least it was around time to leave. As if on cue, the bell rung, causing everyone to jump up out of their seat.

"Later loser," the jock snickered, turning away. "Oh, and you can keep this," he added, tossing the wadded up ball that used to be my drawing at me.

"No good pricks," I spat under my breath, standing beside my desk.

I put the other headphone in my ear, allowing the familiar screams of my bands to soothe away the anger. It always has. I shoved my phone in my pocket, putting my books and sketchpad into my bag. I then proceeded to exit from the room, discarding the crumpled remains of the drawing into the trash bin.

I kept to the side of the hall as everyone hastily sped around me, trying to leave as soon as they possibly could. I couldn't blame them, they probably had lots to do. I, however, had nothing to do but draw. Being friendless at this school was both good and bad. Good, because I don't have to suffer through a conversation about glitter and sparkly things with a girl. Or a conversation about football or perverted shit from the guys. Bad, however, because I was the subject of ridicule, all because I'm different.

My dyed dark red hair made me different, along with the black bandana that held it back. The fifteen piercings on my ears, and one on my lip and side of my nose made me different. The dark clothes and band tees made me different. The dozens of bracelets on each arm made me different. But frankly, I didn't give a damn. I liked how I was. I knew there was others out there like me. But at this school, I was literally the only one. Not the only one that was alone, by any means. But the only dark person for sure.

I walked along the sidewalk, making my way home. It was relatively cold, and it appeared as though it was about to rain. The sky was turning a dark grey as the clouds continued to grow larger. Good thing I didn't live that far away. Just as it began to drizzle, I entered my home, letting out a sigh of relief. I slung my bag to the ground, a loud thump echoing throughout the room.

No one was at home, as usual. Mom out working, dad probably out getting drunk again. That'd be no shocker at all. I walked to my room, shutting the door behind me. My music was still playing, offering some company in this quiet, vacant house. Now was the time for my real art work. I skipped across the room, smiling as I gathered my painting supplies. Half of my room looked like an art studio; canvases lining the walls, sketchbooks, markers, charcoal, pencils and other materials littered around. The other half was a simple bed and dresser, with posters lining the wall.

I sat down at the small seat by the window, setting up a new canvas and adding small amounts of different paint colors on a plate for me to use. I picked up a paint brush, beginning to add color to the blank canvas. It was the same thing I had started in class, and I intended on finishing it this time. I started on the skull once more, then proceeded with all of the details as before.

Hours have passed, the most intricate drawing formed onto the canvas. The only colors consisted of black, white, grey and red. Cracks decorated the skull, along with the spiders that were once again scattering down. Blood dripped down in different places adding a small bit of brighter color in the painting. My eyes were drooping as I yawned. Rain was slightly heavy outside, the soft sound of it being the only thing I heard as I pulled my head phones out of my ears.

I gazed out the window, seeing my darkened yard. The trees were swaying in the wind, the only light being offered by the streetlamp a good distance away. My eyes then fell upon a figure standing next to the road, the streetlamp offering some light to fall upon their features. It was a boy, I guessed. He was wearing a long, dark jacket. The way the light reflected off of it, it appeared to be a dark blue color. His pants were black, along with his shoes. His hair was a tousled, shaggy black. But the most prominent thing that I noticed was the white mask that covered his face. The eyes were dark, and a long red smile was sticking out against the white of his mask.

My eyes widened as I stared at the figure, my heart picking up its pace in my chest. The figure was just standing there, his hands shoved in his pockets. Without another thought, I ran out of my room and into the living room. I crept to the window, hesitantly peeking out of the blinds. My heart dropped when I saw that the figure was now gone. I gulped, backing away. Well, that isn't fucking creepy at all. I'm just going to go back to my room, close the drapes so that creeper can't see into my room, and try to get some sleep. I walked back to the room, and over to the window. I reached over to the side, unhooking the black drape to have it swing over the window. But I couldn't help but notice something before I did. The window was fogged up at the center.

And in the middle of the fogged up section was a smiley face that was drawn on, just like the figure's mask.

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