They Don't Know

Lissa and her gang. Commonly known as the biggest bullies in the high school. They had teased everyone in the school at least once. Some other, slightly less normal kids had been mildly bullied, but nothing they couldn't handle. And then there were the true victims. The six kids who were the outsiders, the outcasts. The ones Lissa and her friends constantly attacked and targeted. The ones whose lives were each a living hell.

Max

Max trudged down the hallway, keeping her head down, hair covering her face, sweat shirt sleeves pulled down to hide the bruises. She reached the top of the stairs and was about to descend when someone shoved her hard from behind. She fell and tumbled down an entire flight of stairs before stopping at the landing. Max held back a scream of pain as bruises hit tile and cracked ribs broke completely. When she raised her head, eyes brimming with tears of pain, she saw Lissa and her gang, laughing at the top of the stairs.

After school, she slowly dragged herself home. She had barely made it in the door before it was shut and locked behind her and she was slammed against it. "Welcome home, Maxie." Her mother hissed into her ear. And then the hits came.

Fang

"Hey, Fang!" Fang turned and saw Mark waving to him. He walked over, then asked, "Yes?" "Theres gonna be an awesome party at Sams later, you should definitely come." Mark said. "Nah." Fang said carelessly. "Oh, come on. Its gonna be the party of the year!" Mark gushed, obviously way too excited and probably on a Monster high. "I cant, I've got work tonight." Fang reminded him for the millionth time. Mark scowled at him. "Man, you always have work." Fang shrugged. "You're so lame, man. I bet you just use work as an excuse cause you're too scared to actually have fun." Fang just looked away. Mark waited, but left in a huff when he realized he wasn't going to get a reaction from Fang.

At about 7 that night, Fangs shift finally ended and he could head home. Home being a tiny apartment in the more badly off part of town. They could afford more, but his dad couldn't hold a job and his mom was a drugee who constantly burned through any money they had saved. Fangs job after school every day and the three more he worked on the weekends would just barely cover rent, food, and supplies for himself and his little sister, Ella. He sighed as he pushed open the creaky door, and shook his head when he saw his mother drugged out on the couch.

The kids at school had no clue.

Iggy

Iggy's back hit the cool school wall as Lissas gang formed a semi-circle around him, closing in. Dylan stepped in front of him, smirking at Iggys terrified face. "Aw, is the gay boy scared?" he taunted. Iggys face twisted into a scowl, but before he could say anything Dylan drove his fist into Iggys stomach with all his force. Iggy dropped to his knees, no oxygen left in his lungs, while Lissas gang laughed. What they didn't know was that Iggy was straight. He'd had at least three girlfriends in high school so far. But they just called him that because he wore brighter colors than their groups greys and dark blues.

Then again, they also teased the boy dressed in all black (calling him an "emo"), and the kids who tried to dress like them were called wannabes. No one was safe from Lissas terrorizing. Finally, the gang left. Iggy pulled himself to his feet, not bothering to go to his next class but instead walking out of the school. He headed home, letting himself into the empty house and going upstairs. He found his dads gun and locked himself in his bedroom. The gun went off.

One shot.

One bullet.

One body.

Nudge

"Out of my way, slut." Sam sneered as he shoved Nudge harshly to the side. Nudge just sighed. Yes, she cared about her appearance. Yes, she spent a lot of time on it. But she did it because she thought it would make her look open and caring, friendly. The way she really was. But instead she was labeled as a slut. There were rumors everywhere about her sleeping with so and so, or stealing so and sos boyfriend, or kissing such and such behind the bleachers, and blah blah blah. The truth was, Nudge hadn't even had a boyfriend yet. She hadn't even had her first kiss.

Her clothes were nice, but modest. Her makeup was noticeable, but natural. Her shoes were reasonable, never more than an inch of heel. Her hair was clean and brushed, though it was slightly frizzy. While Lissa wore clothes that barely covered her. Her makeup was like a clowns. Or a hookers. Her heels were crazy high, so high Nudge wondered how she could even walk in them. Her hair dyed a horrid bright blood red, and usually tangled from kissing so many boys all day long.

And for the life of her, Nudge couldn't understand how Lissa was the most admired girl in school, and how she was the slut.

Gazzy

Gazzys phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the message, which was from his father. As he read it, tears came to his eyes and streaked down his face. "Aw, is the little boy crying?" Lissa called at him from across the hall in a baby voice, enhancing it with a fake pout. The rest of the kids in the hall started laughing, except for two people. One was a girl with long sleeves, leaning against the wall as though it was the only thing supporting her. The other was a boy, dressed all in black, who was working something out on a piece of paper, concentrating fiercely.

Gazzy ignored Lissa and the rest of his classmates and focused on what his Father had just told him.

His mother had lung cancer in a late stage.

She was dying.

Angel

Angel sat in the lunch room, looking down at her food laden plate. The lunch lady had given her extra, worried about how skinny she was. In her mind, Angel was counting calories, adding it up, wondering if it was worth it. Estimating how much she would have to work out later depending on how much she ate now. As she calculated, Lissa and Brigid walked by. Brigid looked down at Angels plate, then gasped and said mockingly, "Wow, Angel! If that's how much you eat at every meal, it's no surprise your such a fatty!" She and Lissa snickered and walked away.

Angel bit her lip and looked back down at the tray. How could she still not be good enough? Her legs were like toothpicks. You could count every single one of her ribs if she was wearing a thin shirt. Her skin was pale, too pale, her eyes and cheeks sunken. And she still wasn't skinny enough. Making up her mind, Angel grabbed her plate and dumped it, stalking towards the gym. She had to burn some more calories off. Maybe then she would be skinny enough.

Maybe then she would be good enough.

(A/N Review please. Other than that I have nothing to say.

UNF-

Silence)