When Will had finally fallen asleep, the day had risen so quickly. He slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, and then pulled himself out of bed. He threw on something acceptable, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and poked his head in his room once again.
His pillow, streaked with tears, wet, wet tears. He flipped it over and fluffed it. Hopefully, no one would notice? He took a shaky breath, trying not to remember the horrible time he had yesterday. He felt like he was falling, forever, in a pit that was endless.
He stomped down the steps and saw his mom snoring on the couch. Careful not to wake her, he went to the kitchen and saw a damp brown bag spotted with dark brown dots, (probably the water or the oil in it) and a note that read,
Sorry honey, I was really tired. Hope you like your lunch!
Love, Mama.
Will felt a tear escape from the prison he called his eye, and quickly brushed it away. He grabbed his bag by the top and took a granola bar from the almost-empty pantry, and bit off some of it. He stuffed the brown bad into his tiny bookbag, and put it on and ran off to the bus stop, where he hoped, with all his heart, either nothing bad happened, or he would get pounded enough for him to die.
When he got to the bus stop, he was almost late, for the bus lights were flashing as he panted and stood, waiting for the bus to pull up. When it did, he grabbed the metal rod and climbed up the stairs, and took a, thankfully, empty seat.
He plugged in his earphones and turned up the earphones, much louder than he usually did. Surprisingly, he liked it. He usually listened to happy songs, but he definitely didn't feel like it today, so he put the "Black Parade" on repeat.
When the bus arrived at his school, he took his earphones and his crappy phone and dropped them in his bookbag, zipped up the zipper, and climbed out of the bus. When he got to his locker, he twisted the lock so it would open, it didn't, so he tried again.
When he grabbed what he needed out of his locker, he overheard some whispers about him.
"That kid is going to hell, I swear."
"Weirdo. Ugh, he is such an outcast.
Will froze up at this statement. He took a deep breath and turned around, then walked to his math class, which was first today. As if on cue, the third girl stuck her foot out, and Will tripped but thankfully straightened (pun not intended) and walked past the girls who were laughing, not with his, but at him at this point.
When he got to his math class, thankfully the kid who asked for the answers-every time- was absent, or he just skipped class. He pulled out his computer and got a 3/4 on his Do Now. Whatever, it's not like he is going to be alive for long enough to even care anymore.
He shook his head to get the thought out of his head. He couldn't think like that, he couldn't do that to his mom... who only had one kid. He put his hood on and laid his head on his fist, and tuned out the teacher who was now talking about something that he didn't even care about.
However, when the math teacher pulled out a block of wood to demonstrate, he exclaimed, "Can anyone help me cut this wood into an isosceles triangle?"
One of the people who despised Will, so much, called out "How about Will? He's good at cutting! You should see his wrists."
All the friends of his laughed, whilst the teacher said, "Bill! That is not appropriate!" He called on someone else while Will stared at the floor. Who else had come into the bathroom that day? He mentally smacked himself. He hadn't even checked, the idiot.
Will asked if he could go to the bathroom, and the math teacher gave him a pass and continued the lesson. Will seized his bookbag and went to his locker. He took everything in there, which wasn't much, and put it in his bookbag. That's it. He was done.
He walked to the bathroom, clutching his bookbag. He went to the bathroom, thank the gods he was on the first floor. He opened the window, looked both directions, and climbed out.
Dun-dun-DUNNNNN! What will happen next? (hint hint-*cough* read the description*cough*