6am drifted around, and Joey felt himself stir. He felt his body twinge at the searing pain from his cuts on his back. It was time for school. If he left early enough, he might make it past his father and to the school on time. Gently, he pulled on his clothes, careful to avoid the scars and bruises. His backpack caused the most pain, slinging it gently over his shoulder, he felt the books crash against his spine, splitting a scar. Nervously, he looked at his back in the mirror. It seemed to be ok. He could feel the cooling warmth flow from the scars, but the bandages appeared to be working. He swallowed and fought back tears. It'll be ok, just gotta make it out. He slowly pulled his broken door open, careful to avoid creeks. He made it silently to the landing and to the door, just as he pulled on the handle, a shadow blocked the light. He stopped immediately. Fuck. The shadow stayed still, watching over his shoulder. Joey held his breath.
'And where do you think you're going?' The hollow voice boomed from behind him. Joey gripped the handle tighter. He swallowed again.
'School.' He closed his eyes, bracing himself for what laid ahead. He watched as the shadow raised a bottle above its head. Quickly, Joey flung the door open and ran out, the bottle smashing on the wall, narrowly missing the sprinting blond. He ran as fast as his could until the apartment was out of sight. Stitch pained his waist, and he grabbed it needlessly. He sucked in long gasps of air, tears burning at his honey eyes. He could feel the blood dampening his bandages from the strenuous sprint, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing was broken. Everything hurt, burning pains rippling through his veins, slicing at his head. Clutching his waist, he stumbled over to a bench, gripping the back rest. I can do this. I am strong. He chanted the words over and over in his head, taking long breaths as he did so. He couldn't appear weak at school; he couldn't let anyone know about his life, about his father.
He watched as the icy sunrise slowly rose behind the glassy buildings, reflecting fire into his eyes. He had escaped today, that was a good sign, surely?
He pulled himself wearily from the bench, and began making his way towards the school. By the time he arrived, he could see students sauntering in. He replaced his solemn expression with his trademark grin, and began a light jog to class, careful to avoid splitting his already broken wounds.
He sat down in a seat towards the back of the class, near the window. He loved the window seat. Class was boring, and he loved to see the outside world. To see people living their lives the way he knew he would never live his own. Men ran around with no shirts on in the warming breeze, their arms exposed. Women in short skirts. Everyone was exposing flesh…a joy he wouldn't be able to experience, not without stares and questions and law suits. It wasn't fair, but then, neither was life. He let his hand drift to a scar on his upper arm. He stroked it tenderly. It was the first scar he had ever received. It ran from the bottom of his should, snaking around his arm slightly. At the time it had been deep, and a blood mark still stained the carpet at home. He was 13 when it happened. He remembered it vividly. Coming home from school, his father beating him with a broken wine bottle. Joey had failed maths that day, and the teacher had phoned his father concerned. He'd hated her ever since. That scar would never heal. Not in 5 years, not in 10…never. It was a permanent reminder of not only his failure, but how his father really felt.
'Mr Wheeler…I will not ask you again!' Joey snapped out of his daze, a tall figure coming into focus. The blond put on his signature grin.
'Uh sorry.'
'The answer, Mr Wheeler…' Joey looked blank, circling his wrists urging the man to continue. 'To number 7?' Joey looked down to his desk…he hadn't even wrote the answer to number 1. He read the problem quickly…
'Umm…Shakespeare?' The class erupted in a slight giggle.
'No, Mr Wheeler, Great Expectations was not written by the Bard.' He glanced around the room, 'Mr Kaiba?'
'Dickens.' The brunet said in a monotone, before returning to his laptop. Joey glared. He hated the brunet. He made his miserable life even worse. Damn it, if he could choose one person to wipe from existence, you could be sure he'd pick Seto Kaiba. After his father of course. The class passed and even at the end after homework was set, Joey didn't have a clue what had gone on that lesson. He walked over to his friends during the break. They where all sat around a bench in the front yard, chatting about the day so far. A few of them had sodas, and Bakura seemed content chewing on what looked like a rubber ball.
'Hey guys.' He gave a small wave, before mushing in next to Yugi.
'Hey, Joey!' Yugi was enthusiastic as always. The others gave a gleeful nod, save Bakura who was still chewing on a ball, and Malik and Marik who where busying themselves arguing over a sandwich.
'You really don't pay any attention in lit, do you Joey?' Téa shook her head, taking a sip of her soda.
'Nah, I don't need it, side's Mr Harrison is a jerk.' He rested his face in the palm of his hands.
'Literature is very important Joey!' Yami looked at the blond. 'You need it for…' he paused…'Ummm…'
'See, my point exactly…3000 years old, and still has no idea what we need the subject for.' The others nodded in agreement.
'At 3000 years old, you find there isn't much worth knowing.' Bakura growled, still chewing at the innocent ball. Ryou nudged him lightly,
'Pack it in, 'Kura.'
'No. There is something inside and I will find out what it is!'
'It's a rubber ball, 'Kura. There's just more rubber in the centre.'
'That's just what it wants you to think…' he carried on gnawing at the ball, and Ryou shrugged it off, his yami was a lost cause.
'So, anything new guys?' Yugi chimed in hoping to change the subject, the gang shook their heads.
'Joey, we're all going out tomorrow night, around town, you wanna come?' Tristan smiled at the blond, hitting him hard on the back when he'd finished talking. Joey immediately straightened his back, his eyes mad with pain. He swallowed before relaxing, he could feel the blood trickle again.
'Wooooah what's up with you?' Duke stared at the gasping blond.
'Oh nuthin'.' He smiled. 'I just slept funny, a little tense I guess.' He smiled, scratching the back of his head. The gang smiled, good old Joey, he couldn't even sleep right.
Hey everyone,
So that's chapter 2!
Please R&R
Much loves!
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