They think you're crazy, they think you're mad
They call you stupid, worthless, tell you you're not worth it
With a sigh [Name] closed her locker, closing her eyes tightly. It was the fourth week of school, yet she found herself praying for things to change already.
“Suck it up, you can do it.” She muttered trying to force some confidence into her soul.
“Who are you talking to?” She flinched hearing that mocking voice.
“Are you, like, crazy or something?” She turned to see a small group of predators staring her down with lip-glossed smirks and accusing glares. Her tormentors.
“She’s disgusting to look at; I think I am going to throw up.” A girl said, pretend to gag. [Name] turned on her heels, ducking her head and walking away as fast as she could. As she stumbled into her language class she dared to look up only to make eye contact with the owner of a pair of bright green eyes, she flinched but he only smiled warmly at her, unlike what his friends would do. Oh, that’s right. He was one of the nicer ones.
She took a deep breath and made her way to the back of the class, staring down at the wood that made up her desk before her upon sitting down.
“Just look at her, the way she’s acting.”
“She’s so strange.”
“Shh, you wouldn’t want her to throw a tantrum.” After that was whispered there were a handful of giggles. She could feel the tears pricking up at the corners of her eyes,
‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry. DON’T CRY’ she shook her head, laying it down on her desk. Bracing herself to endure this hell.
“Hey, [Name]? Are you alright?” [Name] looked up to see her teacher looking down at her questioningly, studying her student with her head tilted to the side so that her blond hair fell over her right eye.
“Y-yes ma’am, I’m alright.” [Name] stuttered, looking up at her teacher with a nervous gaze.
“Are you sure?” She asked, “I know that look, these hazel eyes of mine held the same as those (e/c) ones do.” She said, squatting down next to [Name]’s desk.
“I am sure, I’m fine.” [Name] said quietly, looking away. She heard her teacher sigh as she stood up again,
“Alright, but if you ever need to talk, you know where I am.” She nodded, and laid her head down her table. Not moments later she felt something hit her head. A note.
“Aw… Does the fag need her girlfriend to help her?” The note read, [Name] crumbled it up and buried her head, only to feel another note hit her, then another, then another.
“You’re such a freak!”
The insults went on and on. She pulled the hood of her (f/c) jacket over her head and tried to make herself as small as possible. She stayed that way till she heard the bell, then bolted out of the class room, hurrying down the hallways. Only to be pushed to the ground, her books scattering everywhere, her jacket sleeve slipping up slightly, only inches away from exposing her wrist, and the scars on it.
“Why don’t you just do the world a favor and kill yourself. You aren’t worth existing anyway.” Laughter. Screeching, cruel laughter followed that comment, and she felt the tears begin. Struggling to her feet she began to stumbled away, covering her ears so she wouldn’t here the comments. But she missed those bright green eyes glaring at her tormentors, moving to face them. The eyes belong to no other then to Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.
Now you're walking back to the place you call home but you feel so alone
The same hurtful hits, it's your darkest place
In your virgin ears the remarks they make
On the bus ride home the tormenting continued, not that this was anything new. With a sigh she stood, walking down the aisle of the bus- her own walk of shame- only to get off at the first stop. She did this every day, in order to prevent wanting to kill herself upon arriving home. And from how she was feeling now, it wouldn’t take much.
Now as she made her way down the cracked old sidewalk she felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes. But before she could begin to cry she felt someone place a hand on her shoulder.
“¡Hola [Name]! ¿Cómo estás?” [Name] looked up to see bright green eyes staring at her at a very close proximity, make her stumble back a bit. She racked her brain trying to remember what little Spanish she knew.
“I’m fine.” She replied quietly, looking down at her hands, missing the concern that appeared in that emerald gaze.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.
“Y-yeah.” She looked up, “You’re Antonio right?”
“Sí!” he quipped, smiling cheerfully.
“Alright. But what are you doing here?”
“Hm? Oh! Me? I walk home; it helps me clear my head.” Antonio laughed “I just noticed you walking today and decided to talk to you. Do you leave near here?”
“U-um. No. I actually I live a couple blocks away.” [Name] responded, looking down at her hands.
“Alright then, I’ll walk with you.” She blinked in surprise, unsure if she heard this boy right.
“Excuse me?” She looked up at him in shock.
“I said, I’ll walk home with you. It’s not safe for a girl to wander around alone, so I’ll go with you to make sure you stay safe.” He said, smiling warmly. But instead of seeing that smile, [Name] only saw the laughing faces of those who mock her, their insults echoing in her ears.
“No. Don’t.” She muttered, turning on her heel to walk away swiftly. Only to see out of the corner of her eye Antonio walking alongside her pleasantly, taking in the nature around the sidewalk.
Finally, they arrived at her home.
“Is the place?” He asked studying the home.
“Yeah.” [Name] adjusted her bag, beginning to walk up the stairs to her home. “Hey, Antonio?”
“T-thank you for walking me home.”
“No problem! Oh, and chica!” [Name] looked up to meet those bright green eyes, “Call me Toni.” With a fake smile she nodded, looking away.
“See you tomorrow, okay! By, [Name]!” And with that the cheerful Spaniard ran off. [Name] smiled weakly running a hand over her wrist out of habit. By doing that her fingers brushed against those scars. But this time, when she walked into her house, said hello to her parents, and made her way into her room, she didn’t feel that sad. So she didn’t add anymore to her collection of scars.
If they, if they really knew all of those things
That you do in your room to hide the pain
I bet their minds would change, yeah
I'll bet their minds would change
Soon things did change, every day Antonio and [Name] walked together. During language he would sit with her, and at lunch he brought her over to eat with him and his friends. It went from them knowing each other for days, then months, then suddenly they had been friends for six months.
It was a change, one that [Name] didn’t mind. But even though that change happen, the bullying didn’t cease. If anything it only got worse.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going, you whore?” [Name] flinched, feeling someone pull her hair. “I thought you were gay so why are you sluting it up with Antonio?”
“I am not gay.” She muttered under her breath. Instantly she was slammed against a locker
“What was that, whore? I can’t hear you over your ugly face!” She braced herself, waiting for more insults to come. But instead she only heard footsteps, approaching, and she felt the girl release her hair and run off- leaving [Name] standing there dumbfounded.
“Ms. [Last Name]? Why aren’t you in class?” Oh, great, it was the principle
“Ah! I don’t want to hear your excuses. You have a detention for skipping class, now get moving before I call your parents.” He snapped before she could finish. Great! This was just freaking great!
With a gulp [Name] nodded and hurried away, only to duck in the bathroom, slipping in one of the stalls in order to cry. She had had enough. She was through.
Almost by habit, she pulled out her nail file, rolling up her sleeve and doing the only thing that made her feel better- she began to cut. Don’t ask why, cause even she couldn’t tell you. But somehow cutting helped numb the pain she was feeling. Even if it was hard to hide the red that came from her wrist.
Finally she finished, looking down at the fresh new wounds. With a sigh she slipped out of the bathroom, only to come face to face with Toni who was waiting for her.
“Chica! Are you alright? I didn’t see you in class.”
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.” She said, looking down at her feet.
"Oh, alright. Then let's go. We don't want to miss our next class" He said warmly, taking a hold of her wrist and pulling her after him. She winced in pain, then looked away, trying to pretend that she didn’t. Little did she know that the usually oblivious Spaniard heard it and slowly was figuring out her secret.
(Time skip brought to you by tomatoes~!)
As usual [Name] made her way home, Antonio walking along side her. There was a silence between the two, almost to a point it was growing awkward.
“So, why do you do it?” he asked finally, looking at [Name] out of the corner of his eye.
“Why do you cut yourself?” [Name] flinched hearing that, and turned to look at Antonio
“I have no idea what you’re ta-”
“Don’t lie to me, chica.” Before [Name] could say anything he was holding her wrist, pulling her sleeve up to reveal the marks from both old and new cuts. “This is all the proof I need.”
“It’s none of your business.” [Name] muttered, looking away from him. “You’re just like everyone else anyway. You’ll turn on me eventually. They always do.” Suddenly he took her chin in his free hand, forcing her to look at him.
“No. That’s not true, chica.” He whispered, running his thumb over her scars. “I am not like them. I don’t like seeing you hurt. I’m sure they wouldn’t do what they do if they saw these scars.” He looked at her wrist, “Such a horrible thing to do. Monsters.” He whispered, so quietly she was almost unsure if she actually heard it.
“I don’t believe you.” She said, tears threatening to spill, “You’re just like everyone one else! You hate me too!!” Suddenly she felt something pressed against her forehead. Antonio was…. He was kissing her? Why?
(A/N: HE LOVES YOU!!! DUHHHHHHH!!!)
“Te amo.” Suddenly she felt her tears spill from her eyes, and she let out a sob, burying her face in his chest.
“It hurts!” she wrapped, feeling him wrap his arms around her. “It hurts so bad! I can’t stand it! I just want to fit in! I don’t understand!” they stood there for a while, him allowing her to cry all the tears she had been holding back.
“I know. I know.” He whispered reassuringly, “I believe a lot of people who think of you differently if they knew the pain you were feeling.”
“How do you know?” She whimpered, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Instead of responding he brought her wrist up to his lips and kissed it. Then moved to kiss her forehead, then finally kissed her lips.
“I just know.” He responded, and for the first time in a for what seems like forever [Name] smiled genuinely.
They'd change if they knew the pain
I believe in those scars,
.....'cause I believe