Tat
I step into the school quickly, As is usual, people stop their conversations to whisper harsh words to each other as I pass by, and people move quickly out of my way. The words "freak" and "psychopath" follow me like a shadow, and being the way I am, I treat them like a shadow . I ignore it, and the only time I notice it is out of the corner of my eye.
I make my way to my locker and open it quickly, hanging my leather messenger bag inside of the locker. I remove my ancient and rather tattered psychology book from the top shelf of my locker, then turn only to be aware of the closest thing I have to a " bully" standing behind me .
"why you gotta dress like such a fuckin' freak man?" "Why do you feel the urge to be an absolute disappointment to everyone around you?"
I ask in response, to be completely honest, he's probably the closest thing I have to a friend, despite how much we hate each other. Our relationships acts out predictively, he makes an asshole comment to me, I make an asshole comment to him, he scoffs in disbelief and walks away to his non-hate based jock friends.