Zak glanced out his window from his darkened room for the twelf time that
day. He adjusted his grip on the dagger and tensed as he heard someone
knock on the door.
"Zak! Get your ass out here!" His drunken mother yelled.
Zak obeyed, sliding his dagger under the pillow and walking with downcast eyes to the door.
"Zak!" His mother screeched, then a heavy thud sounded as her body sagged against the wall for support.
The fifteen-year-old paused, but not wanting to keep his mother waiting, he wrenched the door open, cringing slightly.
His prediction was proven true as a stinging slap echoed down the very small hallway. Zak stood, immobile and gazing levelly at his mother. She panted heavily with unfocused eyes. When she lashed out for another strike, Zak caught her wrist and held on with a firm grip.
"You aren't my son! You little ungrateful bastard! Get out get OUT!" She screamed, struggling.
The boy released her calmly and winced as she pounded on his shoulders and chest with her fists.
"Out out out!!"
Zak sighed and walked back into his room, then gently shut the door behind him. He ignored his mother's scream of outrage and took back up his place on the bed. A hand slid beneath the pillow and gripped the dagger, pulling it from hiding.
"I am a bastard. I am not your son." Zak murmered tears stinging as he turned the dagger over in his hand, gazing at it. Then he smirked in grim satisfaction and self-disgust and cut a thin line down his arm, matching the other scars and scabs, not concealed by his worn T-shirt. *****
Zak stopped at the top if the hill. A car zipped past but he didn't glance aside as he let the wind blow through and around his overly big black long sleeved shirt. The boy sighed and let his pack slide off his shoulders and to the ground. He took a step back on the sidewalk and leaned against the cement guardwall. Zak reached down and took a cigarette pack from his also overly baggy pants.'
Then he fished out a lighter, slid a solitary smoke from the pack, and then lit it. He put everything back in his pockets and took a long drag.
A boy and his friend (they looked a little older than Zak) walked down his side of the sidewalk and in front of him. Zak shut his yellowish brown eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, occasionally lifting the cigarette to his full lips to breathe in the smoke again.
"Hey Goth, did you bleach your hair or something?" The boy with brown hair questioned.
Zak didn't open his eyes but shook his head.
"Yeah right!" Cried the other, smirking a little." You think your so cool, sitting there and somking. Weirdo, no one's hair is naturally silver. Don't lie."
Zak's eyes flew open but he just took another drag, eyes flashing with withheld anger.
"God, your such a freak." The brown haired one laughed with his friend and they walked off towards the school.
Zak's eyes flickered up to stare at the cloudless blue sky." There is not god," he muttered, taking an especially long drag, then flicking it onto the sidewalk.
He ground the toe of his shoe savagely into it while picking up his backpack and sliding it back on,
He picked up the thoughts of the girl across the street that had been watching.
-Those bullies. I feel so bad for him, though he does look kinda...satanic. All the same though. -Her thoughts reeked of pity and revulsion. Pity that Zak had been picked on and didn't react, maybe too shy to fend for himself. And revulsion at the fact that he could worship Satan. The girl was obviously Catholic. (No offense AT ALL to Catholics!! Or any other person with a religion like this!!!It's just my character's personality).
Zak wrinkled his nose in absolute disgust and walked off at a very slow pace towards the school.
*****
Reviews please...(gosh I sat that at the end of every chapter srry-.-) And also tell me what you think of it...I started writing this story irl. And then typed in onto here.*shrugs* I'm not really sure myself if it's good or not.my mind just..made this up and I wrote it downo.o.So...yeah...Should I continue it? (Erm...Sorry but Ill probably continue it ne ways:P) But all the same, please tell me if you think I should continue with this.
"Zak! Get your ass out here!" His drunken mother yelled.
Zak obeyed, sliding his dagger under the pillow and walking with downcast eyes to the door.
"Zak!" His mother screeched, then a heavy thud sounded as her body sagged against the wall for support.
The fifteen-year-old paused, but not wanting to keep his mother waiting, he wrenched the door open, cringing slightly.
His prediction was proven true as a stinging slap echoed down the very small hallway. Zak stood, immobile and gazing levelly at his mother. She panted heavily with unfocused eyes. When she lashed out for another strike, Zak caught her wrist and held on with a firm grip.
"You aren't my son! You little ungrateful bastard! Get out get OUT!" She screamed, struggling.
The boy released her calmly and winced as she pounded on his shoulders and chest with her fists.
"Out out out!!"
Zak sighed and walked back into his room, then gently shut the door behind him. He ignored his mother's scream of outrage and took back up his place on the bed. A hand slid beneath the pillow and gripped the dagger, pulling it from hiding.
"I am a bastard. I am not your son." Zak murmered tears stinging as he turned the dagger over in his hand, gazing at it. Then he smirked in grim satisfaction and self-disgust and cut a thin line down his arm, matching the other scars and scabs, not concealed by his worn T-shirt. *****
Zak stopped at the top if the hill. A car zipped past but he didn't glance aside as he let the wind blow through and around his overly big black long sleeved shirt. The boy sighed and let his pack slide off his shoulders and to the ground. He took a step back on the sidewalk and leaned against the cement guardwall. Zak reached down and took a cigarette pack from his also overly baggy pants.'
Then he fished out a lighter, slid a solitary smoke from the pack, and then lit it. He put everything back in his pockets and took a long drag.
A boy and his friend (they looked a little older than Zak) walked down his side of the sidewalk and in front of him. Zak shut his yellowish brown eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, occasionally lifting the cigarette to his full lips to breathe in the smoke again.
"Hey Goth, did you bleach your hair or something?" The boy with brown hair questioned.
Zak didn't open his eyes but shook his head.
"Yeah right!" Cried the other, smirking a little." You think your so cool, sitting there and somking. Weirdo, no one's hair is naturally silver. Don't lie."
Zak's eyes flew open but he just took another drag, eyes flashing with withheld anger.
"God, your such a freak." The brown haired one laughed with his friend and they walked off towards the school.
Zak's eyes flickered up to stare at the cloudless blue sky." There is not god," he muttered, taking an especially long drag, then flicking it onto the sidewalk.
He ground the toe of his shoe savagely into it while picking up his backpack and sliding it back on,
He picked up the thoughts of the girl across the street that had been watching.
-Those bullies. I feel so bad for him, though he does look kinda...satanic. All the same though. -Her thoughts reeked of pity and revulsion. Pity that Zak had been picked on and didn't react, maybe too shy to fend for himself. And revulsion at the fact that he could worship Satan. The girl was obviously Catholic. (No offense AT ALL to Catholics!! Or any other person with a religion like this!!!It's just my character's personality).
Zak wrinkled his nose in absolute disgust and walked off at a very slow pace towards the school.
*****
Reviews please...(gosh I sat that at the end of every chapter srry-.-) And also tell me what you think of it...I started writing this story irl. And then typed in onto here.*shrugs* I'm not really sure myself if it's good or not.my mind just..made this up and I wrote it downo.o.So...yeah...Should I continue it? (Erm...Sorry but Ill probably continue it ne ways:P) But all the same, please tell me if you think I should continue with this.