Mr. Way - Frerard

My mind raced as I left Mr. Way's classroom. I'd suffered a range of intense emotions in the past twenty minutes or so. First, Mr. Way finding out about my bullies. Second, whatever just happened with Mr. Way... he really seemed to care. But why would he? It's not like I'm anything special.

My face tingled where we had made physical contact. My heart and mind both raced. What did this mean? He seemed to hold some interest in me. And I obviously liked him.

Maybe he likes me. Maybe we could have something... as soon as I processed these thoughts, I banished them from my mind. Of course he doesn't like me. He's beautiful and I'm just a 'gay weird’ as I was frequently told by my abusive father until my Ma and I eventually left him when we moved here a year ago.

I made my way home, to the small flat my mother and I lived in. "Hey, Ma," I greeted her as I entered the front door. I heard her call back from the kitchen, where she was probably baking. She had gained so much emotional strength since we moved away from my father.

I rushed to my bedroom, tearing off my shirt in front of the mirror. I winced as I fingered the large bruise forming across my abdomen. I also took in the many tattoos across my body, and the many self-inflicted scars alongside them.

I reached across to receive my hidden blade. I dragged it across my side, relishing in the numbness that spread across me. I flopped down onto my bed. Who was I kidding? Why would Mr. Way ever be interested in someone like me?

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