We'll Let the Fires Just Bathe Us

It's been three months since I've started squatting here. At least, I think it's been three months. The scratched wooden floors creak, most of the windows are shattered, rain drips from the sagging ceiling, and it smells heavily of the ever-present mildew. I shiver from the cold and finally get up and out of my "bed". The old blankets I've acquired from thrift shops over the past two years are in a heap on the floor, dirty and threadbare.

I look in the small mirror that I have hung up on the peeling wall; it's cracked and dusty. Shame doesn't even begin to cover what I feel. I've been hiding for two years. The nuns at my school had thrown holy water onto the flames and tried to force the devil out of me before I ran. Unfortunately, there were no demons possessing my body. It was all me. Sure, those kids had provoked me, what with the endless taunting and occasional beatings. The words "fag" and "freak" scrawled across my locker. But it was all my fault. At first, I didn't give a damn. Nobody else did, either. But eventually, I grew cold, isolated, and spiteful. I'd get my revenge. I just didn't know how.

The day all of this began started like any other. I woke up at an ungodly hour, put on my uniform, tried my best to knot my tie, and downed a pot and a half of shitty coffee. I walked to the Catholic high school I was forced to go to. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for education. However, the way my school taught was pretty fucked up. And the fact that I was a fifteen year old, introverted gay kid didn't really help things.

I had walked out of my History classroom as quickly as possible. I turned right and headed toward the drinking fountain. As I was drinking the warm, possibly infectious water, I heard footsteps and laughter behind me. Before I could scurry away, I felt a large hand grab onto my hair and my face was smashed into the water spout. I sputtered and tasted the unmistakable, metallic taste of blood gushing from my nose and into my mouth. Someone yanked sharply on my tie, pulling me down onto the dirty school floor. I felt strong, vicious kicks aimed at my ribs, stomach and head. Hey, at least they didn't go for my balls. Behind the loud ringing in my ears, I heard laughter. There were at least five seniors standing above me, laughing and spewing slur after slur, flecks of spit coming from their mouths. I saw black spots and bright lights. I cried out weakly, knowing that no one would come to help me. Unknowingly, my fists clenched. Everything became hot, and a burning white feeling erupted in my chest and hands. I couldn't breathe. The kicks had stopped, and I thought the seniors had run off, but I couldn't be sure. When I turned my head, I saw that everything was on fire. The wooden floor, the crucifix on the wall, the posters hanging up. Even the walls were engulfed in flames. I could vaguely feel cold water from the ceiling hitting my forehead and heard in the back of my head the shrill scream of a fire alarm.

And, like an injured animal, I ran.

Notes

First chapter! I just had an impulse to write this, and I'm not really sure where it's going tbh. However, I will try to update as soon as possible and try to not turn this into a total train wreck. Please comment, rate, subscribe, and everything like that so I know how I'm doing. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!
Love always,
Gray