II – Scars
You couldn't remember how long it took you to cry yourself to sleep from how painful dad striking you across the cheek was the previous night. You just knew that it took a long time to do so because of how difficult it was to get up even with the alarm clock blaring in your ears. But you pushed through, knowing very well that you'd more than likely get a whole lot worse from your dad if you were late for school. Getting into your usual clothes and brushing your teeth afterwards, you head downstairs to find your dad sprawled out on the couch, evidently passed out from alcohol. The many empty beer cans surrounding said couch making it even more obvious. The enforced sadness and pain turned to resentment for the horrible man asleep on the sofa as you just reached for your bag and headed out without a word to him, slamming the front door in the process but you didn't care one bit if that woke him up. Just like yesterday, everyone around you just passed you by without so much as a "Hello". You only kept your head down as you walked onwards to school, not in the best mood to regard any of your surroundings until you stopped at the school entrance and entered with a sigh before checking your planner. With it being Thursday, you had Foreign Languages, Math and Physical Education. Another end subject you shared with Dolly that eased the pain. All you'd need today was a sports kit which you always kept in your bag so no chance of your head getting slammed by a locker door courtesy of Keith Baron today.
"Well, look who's back!" You tense up as you recognise the very voice of the Doberman who made your school life miserable right behind you. Almost as if on instinct, you attempt to walk away only to feel Keith's hands grab you by the arm before subjecting you to possibly the worst Chinese burn he inflicted on you. You held back a scream as Keith forced you to turn to face him as he backed you up against a wall. "Did you forget how rude it is to just walk away from someone who's talking to you, you little bastard?" He snarled in your face, trying to induce as much fear into you as possible. "I better not see you in lunch again. Lest you want to be dubbed "shitface" again." He threatened before walking away, leaving you to tend to your burning arm. Wanting to get away from any other possible bullies, you rush ahead to your classroom.
Mr. Andreo was the one to teach your foreign language class. With said teacher being born of Italian origin, that of course was the language you were taught. Fortunately, it wasn't as tedious as Math or English, but you often questioned the need to learn a new language when your dad would rather throw you in a river than let you travel to anywhere in England let alone abroad. Then again, no one knew about how your dad treated you and sometimes, you thought that the majority of people you knew besides Dolly would even care.
"Alright, buon giorno class. We'll just be revisiting some phrases that we've learned so far in the school year. Go ahead and open your textbooks."
You did exactly as Mr. Andreo said with no complaints. You looked over what you had written over the past weeks of your current year, taking them all in as much as possible. At first, you were beginning to think that no one would try to provoke you like someone did yesterday, but you only ended up fooling yourself as you let out a grunt from feeling the sharp lead tip of a pencil that had just managed to pierce through your shirt and jab your back. You glance behind yourself angrily at the person who just stabbed you give you a nasty smirk when you heard Mr. Andreo call out to you.
"Uh excuse me! Pay attention please!" He scolds you, making you turn back to the front and look back down at your textbook as you suppress a frustrated grunt.
The minutes felt like hours as you kept looking over everything you had written in the past, over time, Mr. Andreo would call out to one of the students and quiz them briefly on an Italian phrase to see if they could translate it into English. That went alright, until the teacher called out to you and asked you to translate a phrase you hadn't been able to find in your textbook. Under pressure from everyone watching you, your translation was of course incorrect, eliciting mocking laughter from the whole classroom, sans Mr. Andreo who only gave you a disappointed look.
It would be a few minutes after that when the bell finally rang and you all could leave for the usual fifteen minute break. As always, you hung outside and waited for Dolly to surprise you but as you waited, no sign of the Dalmatian ever showed up. It wasn't until one of the other students came up to you.
"Hey. If you're looking for your "girlfriend", she's sick. So stop sitting there, looking around like some bloody creep." He spat at you before walking away. You couldn't honestly believe it, she was so full of energy yesterday, neither of you would've expected her to have to skip out school today from an illness. It was there and then that dread filled you as the bell rang once again… that you were going to have to suffer this day alone.
Math was roughly the same as before only this time with some advanced multiplication and this time, no one threw any paper balls at you. A fairly easier subject compared to yesterday, but when the bell rang and you were about to leave for lunch, Mr. Sanford suddenly stopped you and called you over and you knew exactly why when you got a good look at his face and saw a mixed expression of disappointment and aggravation.
"You. Care to explain to me what you were thinking with THESE answers?!" He shoved your open textbook in your face, demanding you to look at your attempts on the algebra questions yesterday. You tried to explain to him as calmly as possible that while you weren't mentally strong with algebra, you at least tried your best. Mr. Sanford's expression however didn't change.
"Is this some kind of joke to you? You came to this school to be educated, didn't you?! Well these disgusting workings tell me otherwise! Expect to be given extra homework to make up for this!" He yelled angrily before slamming your textbook down on his desk and pointing at the doorway, visually demanding you to get out.
God damn it. It was like Mr. Sanford's only purpose in life was to treat his students as if they were in the military. Anyone who didn't give the effort he wanted was going the right path for a patronizing talk-down. And now there was lunch to worry about, you peer into the lunch hall's entryway and the first thing you saw was one of the school janitors mopping excess stew on the same spot Keith had dumped on you yesterday. Said janitor noticed you and shot a very unnerving glare at you, almost as if he thought if was your fault for the mess he had to clean up. You avert your gaze from him as you head over to get your serving of what they had on offer today, all the while glancing around for any sign of the Doberman. Pasta was being served today and you didn't hesitate to sit at an empty table and eat as quickly as possible before putting your tableware away and rushing out.
...But as soon as you were about to leave through the hall's exit, you were suddenly pulled back by the collar of your shirt. You mentally prayed to whatever God was watching above that it wasn't who you thought it was holding you back.
"I thought I told you to NOT come here." Your heart sank in fear as you recognised the voice. You were then suddenly slammed against the wall, Keith pinning you against said wall as he leaned his face right next to yours and growled. "Now I have to show you what I do to people who don't listen." As soon as he said that, you felt a sharp pain on one of your legs, making you kneel down to which he then grabbed you by the neck and slammed your forehead against the wall as hard as possible, finally making you fully collapse to the floor. Your vision was blurred from the blunt trauma Keith had just caused you on the head, but you could feel a drip of his saliva on your cheek as he spat on you and uttered out something before finally leaving.
"Piece of shit."
Despite how much your head and leg hurt, you needn't dare lay on the floor and leave yourself open for any other potential bullies to get at you, so with your vision returning back to normal, your force yourself up off the floor and slowly make your way to your final lesson of the day with a limp in your walk.
"Alright, you all! Listen very carefully!" The Physical Education instructor called out as he paced left to right in front of you and the other students standing next to you like a military roll-call. "Today's sport will require agility, speed and how quick you are to dodge!" You knew right there what he was talking about: Dodgeball. A part of you knew Dolly would love this sport if it meant teaming up with you but with her being absent, you were as good as dead. The instructor tossed out several red balls to some of the students, none of which were you. "Offensive vs. Defensive, let's go!"
And thus the game was on, leaving you on edge as your gaze darted left to right for any dodge balls aiming at you. You were lucky to have evaded several shots that came in your direction, but soon enough, practically everyone was aiming for you, making you have to run in multiple directions just to avoid a painful hit from any of the balls. Time was slowly coming to a close and you still had not yet been hit. Just one more minute… You felt like you could do this. Dolly would be impressed to hear that you made it through your own bullet hell without even on hit.
And then you felt it. The hard hit of one of the dodge balls hitting you square on the back, knocking some wind out of you as you fell to the ground. The very second you felt your body hit the floor was when the instructor finally blew his whistle before any one else could pelt you.
"Alright, nicely done you all, good throws!" The instructor praised the other students before looking down at you. "Get up already, and maybe learn to dodge better next time." He said as you heard laughter from the other students and the bell finally rang one last time for today. Changing back into your casual clothes, you slowly walk out, feeling absolutely humiliated from all the misfortune piling up on you. Your head hung low as you didn't care enough to look at the citizens around you or the city sights until you look up to realise that you were in a street you had never been to before. You must've accidentally taken a wrong turn on your way home from school. Luckily, it didn't look like you walked too far from your familiar path and you were just about to turn around and backtrack when a voice stopped your current thoughts.
"Oh! You must be the human friend Dolly keeps telling us about!" A male teen voice grabs your attention, making you look up at an open doorway to one of the street's houses to see a boy Dalmatian in a white shirt with red sleeves and a grey star on the front accompanied with simple jeans looking at you with a friendly smile. "I didn't think you'd come to visit today, but I guess you heard about Dolly being sick today and wanted to check on her." He assumed. You wanted to correct him and head back home, but a part of you was still resentful towards your dad and you didn't very much feel like encountering him again right now, so you walk through the open doorway and introduce yourself to the Dalmatian whom you learn is the Dylan that Dolly often told you about in school. You doubt that dad would notice you had been gone for a little longer even if he was still sleeping. Dylan lead you upstairs and into one of the bedrooms where you saw Dolly laying on a bed, looking a little sickly with a box of tissues on the bedside table next to her. She slowly blinked before noticing you and smiling.
"Aww, you came to visit me?" She asked before coughing a little. You nod as you walk over to her and proceed to tell her what your day in school was like whilst cutting out what Keith did to you and any other cases where you were mistreated by other students. You did mention however that you were close to surviving a dodge ball game with no hits until the very end and as you expected, Dolly managed to give an impressed smile through her otherwise sickly face. "Heheh. Soon enough, you'll be quick as me. And even as cool as me." She complimented before continuing. "Dylan said it's just a common cold. I should be fine tomorrow." You mentally sigh with relief upon hearing that and after some small talk, you and Dolly exchange farewells before doing the same with Dylan.
"You should really visit again sometime. All our brothers and sisters would love to meet you." Dylan recommended. You respond with a nod as if to say "I'll keep a note on that" before making your way back home.
You slowly open the front door to your house. As you enter, you don't hear a thing from your dad which cements the possible idea that you were safe for now and you head straight to your bedroom. Your foot however only makes it up the first step when you hear the door slam loudly behind you, making you turn to see your dad at the now closed door. If looks could kill, you'd be dead on the spot.
"And where the hell have you been?! I got a call from one of your teachers today that you screwed up with everyone of your Math questions yesterday! I don't remember raising someone to be so FUCKING STUPID!" He roared at you as you mentally cursed Mr. Sanford for calling your dad as the man in front of you approached closer to you. "But that's not all what I'm pissed off about." He snarled as he showed you the very last thing you'd want to see him holding.
...The canister of Fluoxetine.
"WHAT IN FUCK'S NAME IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD TO TAKE THIS SHIT?! WHEN IN THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU THAT YOU COULD GO AROUND TAKING DRUGS BEHIND MY BACK! I'M SO FUCKING DISGUSTED WITH YOU!" Your dad screamed at you before grabbing you by the front of your shirt and dragging you up the stairs, kicking your bedroom door open and throwing you inside, your face hitting the old wood floor hard. "YOU'RE NOT EATING ANYTHING TONIGHT! YOU'RE GONNA STAY IN HERE AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING WITH YOURSELF!" After that, he slammed the door shut, taking your medication with him, likely to dispose of it.
The one time when you needed that Fluoxetine the most and dad just had to find it and get rid of it. Fate giveth, and fate taketh away. You curled up on the floor as the overwhelming depression from today and how your dad had just treated you fell onto you like a pile of bricks. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream and most of all, you just wanted to do something to release the suffering you were forced to endure.
As you continued to lay on the floor, you felt empty. You no longer felt any emotion other than despair. It was like you had died from childbirth and had somehow been dragged to an eternal hell of non-stop torment, said torment bubbling and turning into more sadness churning in your own body. You just felt the need to somehow let it flow out but with no medication left to fight it off, what could you possibly use?
Your answer was given with the glint of something from under your bed. Slowly shuffling along the floor and reaching under, you pulled out an old but clean looking razor. A small part of your body told you not to do what your mind was saying, but that was easily overshadowed by the rest of yourself and the growing emotional despair. Very slowly, you pressed the cold steel of the blade against your wrist and dragged it along your skin. You felt a sharp stinging sensation as the crimson started to slowly leak out from your newly created wound but alongside that sharp pain, you felt something else. It felt… warm. Whether it was the flowing blood escaping through your wound or the pain you were causing on yourself, it felt like some of the despair you were put through was actually being drained out. You remain sat on the floor with your back against the side of your bed, feeling only the slow dripping of red from your cut as it formed a small pool under your hand but you didn't care. For once in your life, even only briefly in a moment without your only friend, you felt one small thing.
Relief.