FicWad

I sat in front of my closet early in the morning on Monday. I stared at the contents for a long time, not even thinking about what to wear. I was thinking about how I was even going to survive school today. The mere thought of sitting through an entire day knowing that Brandon was in the same building made me want to tuck tail in and run.

If that was an option, I'd take it.

"You can do it," I whispered to myself, and then got from my sitting position and pull clothes out from my closet.

I throw the usual attire on; skinny jeans, a shirt, hoodie, and my Converse. I pull my hair into a ponytail only to have my bangs and loose strands fall to the front of my face. I don't even bother with eye liner or makeup. I didn't need it. Why cover up the shit I already was when everyone already knew. The bruises had vanished from my face, but the worst of them on my back were still purple.

I go down the stairs with my backpack at hand and everyone is sitting in the kitchen like every morning, acting as if nothing was wrong with me. Or maybe they didn't know. Everyone says good morning except Scott. He still hasn't spoken to me since Saturday.

My stomach quietly growls at the sight of breakfast, breakfast I don't dare eat. Instead I drink a glass of water to quiet my stomach. I can hear the sound of plates clattering, forks scraping against the material, the endless chatter.

I need to get out of this house.

"U-um I think I'll w-walk today," the words stumbled over my lips.

My father looked up from his plate, concern written on his features. "Alright, sweetie, be careful."

I give them a rushed goodbye and nearly bolt out of the house. Once outside and on the sidewalk I let out a shaky breath.

That was close, I think to myself, you almost slipped up and ate.

I grimaced at the thought. I walked down the sidewalk, shivering from the cold and watching the snow crunch under my feet. Much to my dislike, I soon arrived at school. People are hanging outside as usual, but something is off as I walk up the school steps. I realized that everyone has quieted down. And everyone was staring at me.

Even when I was in the halls walking to my locker, conversations between groups went silent as I passed by. People whispered to each other as I grew extremely nervous. When I get to my locker, it's covered in the usual notes, but this time all of them have the same thing in common. They all said, "slut".

I ripped them down with a sigh, and fumbled with the lock, just wanting to hurry. But I just wasn't fast enough.

"Hey, you bitch!" I heard a nasaly, high pitched voice shout followed by the clicking of heels. I don't dare turn around. "You fucking slut, I'm talking to you! Fucking mute bitch!"

I nearly jumped out of skin when she turned me around and slammed me against the lockers. I instantly recognized them as most of the cheerleaders who tormented me. Of course, it was Brittany speaking to me. In the back of my mind, I wonder how cliche this could get with a bitch named Brittany bullying an "emo".

"You slut," she snarled. "You fucked my boyfriend."

My eyes widened and shook my head quickly. I then remembered that Brandon was her boyfriend. Shit. How did this happen?

"How dare you!" She screeched. "Not only are you some emo scum, but you're a walking disease! I can't believe a piece of shit like you touched my Brandon!"

"You're disgusting!" Another girl said.

"Stupid skank!"

"Only idiots like her can't speak up!"

"She probably did it for confidence! She's fat as hell!"

I bit my lip to keep myself from crying. Out of nowhere, the palm of Brittany's hand meets the side of my cheek. Hard. She sneers, pleased with her work, and walks away, her group sending me glares. I cradled my red cheek and realize that almost everyone was staring. I turned away to get my stuff from locker and quickly walked to first period.

By second period, almost everyone had heard what happened between Brittany and I. Even the freshmen knew what happened. And it seemed that the majority of everyone had ruled me as a slut. The teachers had even eyed me oddly. When I walked into Creative Writing, Gerard gave me a sympathetic smile. I wondered if the guys knew and thought I was a slut too. I bet Gerard did.

I couldn't bear to spend lunch in the cafeteria. All the students would be staring at me. So, I turned to the library. It was mostly empty except for a few people and the librarian. I picked up a random book off a shelf and retreated to the old couch in the back everyone had forgotten about. I sat down and pulled my knees up. I opened the book to the middle, not even reading.

How long would this go on? It had been a month and a week or two since I started going to Belleville High. I thought they'd stop tormenting me by now. There was plenty of people in the school, but I was an active target.

I frowned. I mentally smacked myself. I didn't exactly mean that. I didn't want other people to get bullied; no one deserved it. I deserved it, though. I was just trouble. If I was erased from the picture, everything would be fine. No one would care, and everyone would be happy.

"Willow?" I snapped my head up to see Mikey. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged, looking down at the book. He sat next to me and opened up a trigonometry book.

"I forgot to study for our quiz next period," he sighed. I nodded, and then noticed his glasses. They were taped together. I pointed at them and he looked away shyly. "Oh, um...the jocks kinda beat me up...and stepped on my glasses."

I frowned and he just laughs. "Don't worry, I'm fine. The seniors just like beating up sophomores."

In the events of the past month, I'd nearly forgotten the boys were also enduring similar situations like me with the higher ranking students. Only I think Ray and Bob weren't bothered very much because they were somewhat muscle. But Frank, Mikey, and Gerard took more of the hit. I guess we all knew how the other felt.

I nod, remembering that Mikey and Frank were younger than the rest of us. He clears his throat and look up at him again.

"You know, um...what everyone is saying...what happened... I don't believe anything they're saying. We all don't...so, don't let it affect you..."

I smiled a little. Mikey was so cute sometimes. I give him a side hug and he grins.

"Does this mean you'll help me study for trig?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. I spent lunch with him in the library, helping him understand problems he had no clue how to solve. The gloom and uneasiness settled back when the bell rang and Mikey and I walked to trigonometry. When I passed by in the halls, they pointed and whispered among themselves. I was starting to believe I was a walking disease. Mikey didn't care, and he walked with me anyway.

When Biology had rolled by, that was when I began to panic. I felt as if my world had suddenly collapsed in on itself and trapped me underneath. My breath had become heavier and I supported myself against a locker. My knees wobbled, and I feared of walking into the classroom knowing he was in there.

I took in a few shaky, uneven breaths and forced my legs to walk inside. I instantly felt eyes burning into my skin. Even my lab partner, Soye, who was kind and quiet, had her eyes on me too. Bob and Ray were in a deep and quiet conversation and glanced at me. I felt my heart thump erratically out of fear when I saw Brandon in his seat, giving me a smug smile.

When I sat down, I could still feel the daggers of everyone's eyes still on me. I imagined that I was a butterfly with pins in my wings keeping me from getting a way while people studied me. That's what it felt like, like I was pinned down.

When class started, we did our usual notes, this time on the anatomy of amphibians. It was then did I feel sick when Mr. Vale explained what we were doing today.

"Since Thanksgiving Break is coming sooner than expected," he said opening a plastic bucket on his desk. "I decided that we'll get to be doing a fun little project." He then pulled out a frog from the bucket and some girls shrieked. "We'll be dissecting frogs!"

Nausea washed over me as he went over the instructions. I didn't pay attention though.

"Since I'm feeling generous today," Mr. Vale said. "You're allowed to partner up with whoever you please."

My face somewhat paled as everyone moved around the classroom. I felt someone walk over and I already knew it was him. I could tell that this was going to happen.

"Looks like we're going to be partners," Brandon said. I couldn't object. If I did he was more or less likely to make me feel pain again. I couldn't bear the pain.

I nodded simply and I stood up to go retrieve a tray and frog. I sat down at his table and waited for him to get the tools. I wished it would take him forever so I couldn't be near him. I stared down at the frog. It smelled awful as it lay there lifeless on the tray. Part of me wished I was like the frog. Dead. Everything would be painless if I was dead. I pet the top of its head out of empathy.

"Sad over a frog? How pathetic," Brandon said as he sat next to me with the tools.

I have to hold my knee down from its shaking. "Pin the frog down, Willow."

I snapped my head up to look up at him. There was something in his eyes that frightened me just like Friday.

"Pin the frog," he repeated.

I swallowed nervously, hesitantly taking each pin and piercing it through each leg. I didn't want to do this.

"Now," Brandon grinned, taking a x-acto knife and shoving it into my palm. "Cut it open."

I feel my eyes prick but I nod. I understood his game, that he was manipulating me, but I didn't dare to do anything. I brought the tip of the knife to the frog's chest with a shaky hand. I pierce the skin and run my hand down and across, pulling up the skin flaps to reveal muscle. I hadn't realized that I was shaking.

"Now gut it," Brandon commanded.

I blink hard to keep the tears back and cut through the muscle, the stench of chemicals keeping the frog from decomposing making me feel ill. I can feel Bob and Ray's eyes staring at the back at my head, and I wonder what they're thinking.

I finally cut through the muscle and start removing the organs carefully and placed them onto the tray, trying not to vomit what I don't have in my stomach.

"How does it feel, Willow?" Brandon sneered. "How does it feel to be cut open?"

My grip tightened around the x-acto knife. I willed myself not to cry. I kept cutting the inside of the frog while Brandon kept speaking.

"How does it feel to be pinned down, not being able to scream?" He said. "How does it feel to be ripped apart? How does it feel to wish for help but can't even ask for it because you're so fucking mute? How does it feel to hurt?"

The last thing I cut out was the frog's heart just as Brandon whispered harshly, "How did it feel when I ripped your heart of your chest?"

I dropped the knife with a clatter and pushed away from the table violently, making a lot of people look up. I was hard of breathing and my body was shaking. He was playing me, playing with my mind and sanity.

"Ms. Adams?" I snapped up and Mr. Vale was standing there. "You look extremely pale, you can step outside the class until everything is finished and put away."

I got up without a second thought. Everyone looked at me as I left the classroom. Brandon's eyes held a sense of victory. When I closed the classroom door behind me, I broke down. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I sat down in front of the lockers and pulled my knees to my chest. I wiped my tears away with my sleeve and sniffed.

I was so tired. I felt so, so tired. I was tired of this treatment, of being afraid, of school, of this life. I hated my life. I didn't know how or why I deserved it. All the lies circulating the school made me want scream and rip my hair out of head. I wanted to run away.

My phone vibrated from my back pocket and I reached out and flipped it open to see a text from an unknown number.

"You okay?" It read.

"Who's this?" I texted back.

It vibrated instantly. "Ray! I asked Gee for your number."

"Oh o.k."

"Yeah and back to my question. Are you okay?"

"Just fine," I lied.

But the truth was, I wasn't okay. I will never be okay.