Feliciano trotted happily through the wide entrance doors, a smile plastered on his face as he walked down the long hallways. As he walked on, he passed a small group of pretty girls. Raising his hand, he waved and winked, causing the girls to giggle and blush. Feliciano chuckled and turned forwards. Stopping at his locker, an ache in his chest grew at the taunting words that stared at him ruefully.

"Slut"

"Attention whore"

"Coward"

"Weakling"

"Faggot"

Those were the words that were scrawled hastily in permanent marker. His fingers curled into a fist, his nails digging harshly into the soft skin. With a soft sigh, he quickly opened his locker, threw his bag inside and grabbed the things needed for class.

All throughout the day people taunted him, threw balls of paper at him, snickered at him, whispered in hushed voiced about him. Feliciano Vargas, the gleeful coward who flirts with women and flees at the mention of a fight. With a trademark white flag in his hand at all times and a protest for peace on his tongue, his useless words were stuffed back down his throat as he came home with bruises and black eyes, thanks to his upbeat and annoying personality. Despite trying to be kind and happy, others found him a nuisance instead. His words were used against him and peace didn't come. Why must the world be so cruel?

After dragging himself home, fortunate enough to not have attracted any fists, Feliciano trailed into his room, lumped his school stuff into the corner, and glared at the homework that spilt from his bag. With a hasty push, he shoved the things back inside and flopped heavily onto his chair with a sad huff escaping from him.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow it would all end.

Tomorrow would be the day where the bullying and taunting would stop. The suffering will cease and the pain will vanish. And so will he.

Tomorrow, Feliciano would kill himself.

And tomorrow came, early and quick. Almost as if God himself were willing him to do it.

With shaky hands, Feliciano walked to school. The words "FELICIANO VARGAS IS A FAGGOT" were painted in a dripping, blood-like red on his locker. His legs felt like jelly, his knees threatening to buckle as he slumped in his seat. Lunch came slowly, but he didn't mind. He needed the time to relax his raging thoughts and settle his uneasy emotions. Sure, he did get pushed into the wall, but that didn't effect his sudden determined attitude.

With a rope in his backpack, he headed for the gym. A key sat in his pocket. The key for the locked doors. The physical education teacher always kept the doors locked, so nobody snuck inside while they ate. But that didn't stop him.

After getting a stepladder from the storage room, Feliciano set everything up. A simple suicide note was placed on the floor, the rope tied into a noose hung from the ceiling and he stood as ready as ever on the ladder. Grabbing the rope, he stuck his head through the loop, his sweaty hands gripping at the woven strands. His body shook. Stop it. You deserve this. With a heave, he propelled himself forwards, successfully knocking the stepladder down. The noose tightened around his neck. Pain clawed at his throat as the strands burned at his skin. His chest heaved to breathe in air. He loudly choked, his legs twitching and tears streaming down his cheeks. The time passed exceedingly slow before he couldn't suck in any breaths and his vision swam with dark dots. This was it. He closed his eyes and felt himself fall limp, a sudden coldness draping over his debilitated, dead body.