As the cold winds set in and the leaves were changing color, summer was leaving and autumn was arriving on the doorstep. An average teen, named Timothy Turner, sat alone at his school lunch table. The boy silently picked at the poor excuse for food, unable and unwilling to focus on eating, instead he was more inclined to wallow in his own sadness. The teenager's only friends, Chester and AJ had moved away during the summer, thus leaving him utterly and truly alone. He no longer had anyone. Tootie, a girl who used to be obsessed with Timmy quickly moved on once they graduated from elementary, Timmy was kind of saddened she didn't see friendship, but respected her wishes. Furthermore, Timmy slowly drifted away from Sanjay and Elmer, old friends of his, but was clueless as to why.
It was a just a few weeks ago when he came to realize something, but he purposefully distracted himself with friends that were long gone. Even now Timmy distracted himself from the truth of the matter, unable to accept it, so instead he made sure to push those thoughts away and distract himself with other outlets. As if on cue, a loud and heavy slam rang through the cafeteria, getting the attention of most students. The brunette looked upward and spotted a large, older teen. The older boy's skin was tinted grey, his face covered in acne and a mean scowl. As the boy spread his lips to speak, Timmy immediately noticed the boy's improper dental hygiene. His teeth were tinted blue and his breath smelled pretty awful. Timmy slightly turned away as he spoke.
"I see you've already bought lunch, Turner. Lucky you." The older boy stated as he leaned in towards Timmy. "Since I can't take your lunch money then why don't you give me the answers to that math test in Mr. Harrison's class, before I get violent."
Timmy, for some reason, didn't see reason and wasn't going to give the bully what he wanted. The brunette stood up and looked him in the eye, a rare display of confidence despite being much shorter. "No, Francis. Go pick on someone else."
The smaller boy immediately regretted his decision as Francis grabbed the collar of his pink bomber jacket, raising him off the tiled floor so the two were face to face. "I'm going to ask again, Turner, how you reply determines what happens next. Give me the answers to the math test." The calm and threatening tone frightened Timmy, but he stood his ground, metaphorically speaking.
"No!" Timmy yelled in his face.
The teen had no time to react before Francis cocked his arm backward and threw a punch at his stomach. As Timmy fell to the floor, he held his stomach in pain, before raising his head to then be met with a knee to his left eye. The brunette fell backward, clenching his eyes tightly as the pain coursed through his body. Francis stomped over to him before placing his steel-toed boot onto Timothy's chest, pinning him to the floor.
"I hope you don't think twice about your words next time, because I'm not going to give you a second chance like today, Timmy." Francis snarled before releasing the boy and walking away.
Timmy sat upright and held his palm to his eye, hoping the pressure would ease the pain. It did not. Looking around he noticed that everyone's eyes were on him, some stifling a laugh, others with pity or sympathy. Timmy felt his lower lip quiver and quickly bit down on it to stabilize it, he slowly stood up and repeated a mantra in his mind.
"Back straight. Chin up." Timmy told himself, feeling the unbearable weight of the masses' eyes. "Back straight. Chin up. Don't cry, just get out of here. Don't cry."
The boy stood upward, doing his best to stand tall, before wiping himself off and grabbing his backpack. He slung one strap around his left shoulder, the other strap hung loosely, not connected to the bottom of the bag. As soon as he was out of the cafeteria, Timmy immediately sprinted towards the doors of the high school, swiftly exiting and running towards his suburbia. He simply had to leave.
Eventually Timmy found himself in front of the Cake 'N' Bacon diner, looking in his wallet and seeing he had just enough for his usual order he decided to go inside. The boy immediately took note of the empty diner and decided to take an entire booth to himself, the rubber, curved benches sinking as he sat on it. By this time, Timmy's left eye had completely swollen shut, so the brunette used his right eye to look around the diner.
The diner itself was clean and tidy, it seemed to have been recently cleaned too. Along the outer walls sat curved booths, round tables and blue rubber benches. In the back of the dining room, sat in the middle of the back wall, was a bar lined with coffee machines, soda fountains, you name it. It provided Timothy with a clear look into the kitchen, but he turned his attention to his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. The teen hoped it was a text from Chester or AJ, but was instead met with a text from his parents. His parents... Timmy didn't want to think about them at the moment, already knowing what the message was going to allude to, so he placed the phone back into his pocket and rested his chin in his hand.
Timmy noticed a figure clad in yellow standing next to him and turned his attention towards his waitress, but his saddened demeanor was quickly replaced with one of fear. Standing in front of him was the harbinger of punishment, the redheaded demon from the seventh circle of hell, Victoria "Vicky" Valerius.
"Twerp? Shouldn't you be in school?" Vicky asked as she slid a menu over to the frightened teen. Her face was adorned with a wicked grin, still amused that she could make the poor boy squirm under her mere glance. "Calm down, Twerp. I haven't messed with you in a year, why start now?"
Timmy stared at her for a second longer, his mind still beating the drums of anxiety. Vicky still babysat Timmy, mainly because of the ludicrous money his parents paid her, but she was telling the truth. It seemed as Timmy grew, Vicky slowly calmed down. Key word: slowly. "I-I can't be there right now. please don't make me go back, V-Vicky." The boy almost pleaded.
Vicky let out a small sigh. "I'm not going to force you back there, I'm working anyway." The redhead explained. "What do you want, Twerp?"
"Just...uhm, a large fry and a ch-chocolate shake. P-please." Timmy stated, still anxious by Vicky's presence.
"Alright, Twerp. It'll be nineteen, seventy five." Vicky stated disinterestedly, before quickly grabbing the twenty handed to her by the brunette boy.
Timmy watched her walk away before letting out a deep sigh and burying his face in his hands, upset with himself and how the day was going so far. In every sense of the word, Timmy's day was terrible. In the morning Timmy had found that there was no hot water left from the shower and that was a rude surprise. Walking down to the kitchen, the teen noticed three things immediately: his parents had left on a vacation without so much as a note, there was no more cereal for breakfast and he had woken up late, missing the bus. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder with a dejected sigh, Timmy started the long walk to his high school, but encountered even more trouble on the way. The first hazard was a dog named Doidle, a white bull terrier with a viscous hatred of one pink-clad brunette. Covered in scratches and now bearing two holes in his jeans where his knees were, Timmy found a second roadblock, literally. "It wouldn't be autumn in Dimmsdale without some construction..." Timmy had mused to himself. Forced into taking the long way to his school, Timmy quickened his pace and began to run.
Timmy in the long run to school had gotten lost, drained most of his phone's battery and had another encounter with Doidle, but he eventually made it to Dimmsdale High. Hooray. In first class, the boy was berated by his teacher for being thirty minutes late and was told he had to stay after school. In his second class, Timmy had gotten a very important test handed back to him, a failing grade to go along with it and a long reprimanding in front of everyone else about how he should 'apply himself' in the teacher's words. Third class was a repeat of his second class, but instead of one test, it was two. He sure felt great.
Timmy looked around the diner, picking at the threads in his jean's holes, his eyes stinging. He brought his knees to his chest and rested his arms on top of them, not caring if he scuffed the seats with his pink rubber-toe sneakers. He rested his forehead on his left arm, somewhat enjoying the warmth as emotions and thoughts ran through his head. The thoughts were like strong waves that kept crashing into his mind, the ocean of feelings were rising with the tide and soon, Timmy would drown.