I'm not crazy. | Teen Ink

I'm not crazy.

November 25, 2019
By IamGodisme, Decorah, Iowa
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IamGodisme, Decorah, Iowa
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Author's note:

I'm a short, angry, ball of depression. I like to read, write, play video games, watch anime, and do art. I'm a little emo, but that's okay. Highschool kinda sucks, but I'll live.

Beep, beep, beep.

The shrill ring of the alarm clock broke the silence of the room. The lump of blankets on the messy bed groaned, shifting around. The alarm stopped finally and the lump grew still once more. But just when silence began to swallow the room again, the alarm started ringing. The lump of blanket was thrown back, and a tired boy with messy hair popped up his head. He slammed his fist on the snooze button in annoyance, letting out a yawn as he rose from his bed. He lifted his arms up and stretched them out, letting out one last yawn before heading to the bathroom.

Aryn flipped the light switch, squinting his eyes in the harsh light. He rubbed his face and grabbed his toothbrush, applying a generous glob of toothpaste. He then brushed his teeh, the taste of mint filling his mouth. He washed out his mouth and ran his hand through his messy cinnamon colored hair, sprucing it up a bit. He then splasged some cold water on his face, waking himself up a bit. Aryn grabbed some deodorant and spread it on his armpits, before heading back to his room. He opened his closet and dug through his clothes, settling on a grey t-shirt and some black jeans. He then made his way downstairs for some breakfast.

Aryn opened the cupboard and took out a box of cheerios, pouring them into a bowl of a milk. He scarfed the cereal down and set the dirty bowl in the already full sink. He looked at the clock and decided he had time to spare, so he poured out yesterday's coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher, along with all the other dishes. He filled the compartment with dishwasher suds, and closed it up, starting the washing cycle. Now he was running late, so time to hurry. He grabbed his backpack and rushed out the door, sprinting to the bus stop just as the doors closed. He knocked on them desprately, hoping the bus driver was feeling generous today. To his relief the doors parted for him and he got on.

As soon as Aryn entered the bus he was surrounded by chaos. People yelled his name as he waled down the asile, looking for a seat.

"Hey Aryn!"

Some random jerk yelled, wielding a handful of dimes.

"We have some spare change."

He said with a smirk, his brainless goons trying, and failing, to contain their laughter. Aryn ignored them, walking right pass their seats to the back of the bus.

"Hey, loser, I'm talking to you."

He said, a threat in his voice. Yet he still chose to ignore the guy. Until he heard him yell the word 'fag.' That's when he turned around to flip him off, only to be peted with fistfuls of dimes. One just so happened to clock him in the eye. He let out a loud swear and glared at his attacker, holding his throbing eye.

"That's it Travis, you're f'ing dead."

Aryn lunged at him, his hands wrapping around his throat. He squezed, and all Travis could do was choke and whimper, his lims flailing uselessly. His goons finally seemed to register what was happening, as one of them grabbed Aryn, pinning his arms back while another landed a solid punch in his gut. He coughed, shrivling up as the other let go of him. He collapsed into the asile and held his stomach in pain while Travis caught his breath. The bus must've already arrived at school, because the principle stood over them now, arms crossed, heeled toe tapping. She did not look happy.

Aryn held the ice pack to his now swelling eye, relishing the chill as he stared at the ground. He could feel Travis' glar pierce through his skin. He let out an annoyed sigh as he tried his best to ignore it. Travis' two knuckle heads came out of the Principle's office, telling him to go in next. They both glared at Aryn one last time before walking off to class. Travis popped his head out again and motioned for me to follow him in. 

Travis and Aryn took a seat in front of the Principle's desk. They both shrunk uncer her piercing gaze as she loomed over them. She cleared her throat and spoke slowly and calmly.

"So boys, tell me what happened."

They both began talking at once, telling completely different stories.

"One at a time."

She sneered at them, easily shutting them both up. Travis was the first to recover.

"Aryn tried to murder me!"

He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"You through dimes at me and called me a fag!"

Aryn shrieked, standing up abruptly.

"That's because you are. A filthy one at that."

Travis said with a victorious smirk as he crossed his arms. Aryn let out a roar as he attempted to strangle Travis again, but the Principle slammed her fist down, spooking them both.

"That is enough! Both of you will be in detention for a very long time you hear me, now get yourselves to class!"

She yelled, dismissing the subject. Travis let out an angry groan as he stormed out of the office. Aryn paused, letting out a sigh before following.

"Aryn wait. You're a good kid. I know you are. But you can't go around strangling kids. Don't let them get to you, I'm always here if you need to talk."

He simply nodded and left the office. Instead of going to class he went to the bathroom for a refresher. He stared in the mirror, running a hand lightly along his swollen eye. His hair was messy again and his shirt had sweat stains. Suddenly he felt dizzy. Voices filled his head, all speaking at once. People began to fill the bathroom, surrounding him. His head spun.

"Leave me alone."

He whimpered, suprised by how small his voice sounded. They only got louder. Oh God he was gonna be sick. He rushed to the trash and puked, his head exploding. Laughing. They were laughing at him.

"Shut up already!!"

Aryn flung out his arm and all the stall doors flew of there hinges, clattering loudly to the floor. He stared wide eyed at the damage that.....he did? He shook his head and rushed out of the bathroom, he had to get out of here. He ran and didn't stop. Not as he heard people yelling his name, or as footsteps came after him. He just ran.



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