I’m sitting on top of the court house in the center of town. Night has fallen all around me. Kids run in the streets dressed in costumes. Halloween. I remember my life, all the pain and isolation. Then I look at those happy, laughing kids on the street below. How can they fool themselves into such a stupor?

I’m sitting on the stage in the gym waiting for the 6th period bell after lunch. My laptop sits on my lap as I type away on one of my stories. I’m smiling slightly as I write of what my world would be like if I weren’t here. The screen is slammed down upon my fingers. I look up into the face of John, an all-star lineman for our school team.

“Look at you, you’re happy. I’ll have to fix that,” he says and rips the laptop out of my hands.

“Give it back, John,” I say weakly.

“No, you don’t deserve anything this nice you little emo freak,” he says and throws it on the ground.

The screen breaks off and skids across the wood floor. His friends join in and stomp my laptop into dust. Then they turn on me. I lay on the ground curled up taking hits to my head and back. Tears of pain slowly roll down my cheeks.

The bell rings and they walk off talking and laughing. I just lay there.

Two weeks later I’m walking to my truck after school. As I put the key into the lock I see the scratches and paint all over the side and tarp. “don’t ever come back to school if u want to live” “freak” “go cut yourself” “the world would be better without you”. I just continue on. I get in my truck and drive home, where I try to wash off the paint. But it won’t come off. I sit down in our shop and cry.

My life, I’m short, with glasses, I get a D average, and no one likes me. If no one will miss me, I step up onto the ledge of the 5 story building. Then I’ll just go away, I step off the building and plunge head-first towards the ground.

After school today, John walks towards me as I fumble with my keys. I’m shoved up against thee side of my truck.

“You think your tough shit putting up all those posters don’tcha,” he says.

Earlier today someone put up posters of John kissing a dude on his own front porch.

“You little freak,” he punches me right in the mouth.

But this is the last time. I punch him in the gut, he doubles over in pain. “I didn’t do shit,” I say and bring my knee up into his face. I’m on top of him just wailing on his face. We’ll see who thinks he’s so cool now.

I smile as my head meets the ground and my neck shatters.