There was an eerie silence that had fallen like a blanket over my life since that last Friday night. Walking into school on Monday seemed like the equivalent to Louis and Clarks' journey across undeveloped America - I had no idea what was awaiting me just around the corners. I was hesitant to even take a seat next to Bob in my English class, for fear that he would try to tell me how much I overreacted or how much of a douchebag I was. I mean, there's a chance that I deserved it, but I sure as hell didn't feel like a douchebag for not wanting to clear the air with Frank. Would you know how to feel?

"Oh look, it's the pansy faggot who is too afraid of me to even say 'hi'," Frank's sneering words wound around my brain like a serpent around its prey's neck. I searched for Bob, not in hopes of finding solace, but in hopes of getting him to see that Frank really didn't want to make things better. Alas, Bryar was nowhere in sight, and I was left to hold myself back from punching that asshole's perfect little face in.

I never used to be so violent, but then again I suppose no one is ever just inherently violent. Something triggers everyone; something clicks into every vicious person's mind that makes them they way they are, that makes them angry and murderous, as it were. The small person of Frank Iero wasn't necessarily that trigger for me, I had become violent long before I met the slight boy, but he sure didn't help me recover from my violent outbursts.

"What?" Frank spoke, laughing a little before continuing. "No 'witty' comebacks today, Way?" He made air quotes with his index and pointer fingers as if to mock me, I simply looked him dead in the eye. I caught a fleeting glance of some sort of emotion deep within his hazel spheres, a softer emotion, one that shocked me even.

"You're not exactly worth it, pretty boy." I deadpanned. There was no malice in my voice. No intonation at all, for that matter, but the group of friends that he had in this class laughed at my words as if they were anything but serious.

"Aweh, you think I'm pretty?" The quarterback blinked furiously at me, in a flirtatious manner, but I knew it was all just a joke, one that I finally understood. Fuck I really needed to watch my words more carefully, I had forgotten the whole school knows I'm gay. "Guys," he said, addressing his friends, "he thinks I'm pretty!" Frank's sarcastic excitement was really getting old.

"Listen, Iero," I said, walking straight up to him and doing my best to tower over him, which wasn't hard, considering he was sitting down. "I am fucking sick of you and your so-called friends giving me shit all the time. I am not an object to be used for your humor, and I will not be treated like one. Now, it was you who came to my house and tried to make amends with me, so just shut the fuck up."

"Oh sweety," he said, his tone thick with contrived concern. His eyes danced from one side to the other nervously before they stopped on mine finally. Bringing his voice menacingly low, he muttered, "you didn't think I actually wanted to apologize, did you?" His friends laughed, and I copped on - of course he didn't. "I just wanted to see what it was about your life that made you so goddamn messed up. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I fucking knew it," I spat, literally, before I brought my fist straight into his jaw, knocking him cleanly out of his chair. A cry emanated from Frank's petite figure, and I softened a little on the inside, he just sounded so innocent, as if it were possible. I looked each one of my other tormentors in the eyes, realizing their individual terror that they so professionally masked with their collective gall. "This you guys shouldn't ever try to take my on on your own." I was just about to spit on Frank for good measure, when I heard a small whimper - that I'm sure he thought no one else heard - drift up from his prostrated body. But I won't tell anyone

There was no time to process what I had heard before Mr. Burns yelling something at me. "Mister Way!" The English teacher's voice boomed, commanding my attention.

"Fuck you." I turned on my heels and began to stalk out the door; I had had enough shit for the day.

I caught sight of Bob standing in the doorway as I approached it - he was staring at Frank who was probably just getting up. Fuck, I must have hit that boy hard. I wondered if I had broken any sort of bones on his face, hoping, uncharacteristically, that I hadn't. I shoved past Bob without another thought, and walked straight out to my Buick where I lit a cigarette and smoked my way home.

I had probably just changed everything for the worse: Bob would never forgive me, Frank would worsen his torture, My mom would be mad, and the school? Well, who knew what was going to happen to me when I went back there. The truth was, I really didn't give a shit about any of it. I was sick and fucking tired of dealing with the same old things day in and day out, without any sort of hopeful ending. For most people that get bullied, there's hope for a better life outside of high school; there's a future that keeps them strong enough. But what about the people who don't have that? What about the people like me? I suppose most of them end in suicide or a mental hospital, right?

I didn't want to be another sad story, I wanted to be something more, something that I knew I never would be, but that didn't stop me from wanting it.

Notes

Chapter Title - Decode by Paramore

Hellerr.

I PASSED ALL OF MY CLASSES (even though I was a percent away from failing math).

Here's a little update for you all.

xoBunny