First Day of High School
1777 Words
That Monday was one of the worst days in his life. First day of high school, meaning hell.
It’s what everyone thinks right? But no to him, it was on a whole different level. Everyone bullied him there, he was the fun of the school. If anyone was ever bored, they could just walk over and make fun or push him down. But still, it was kind of better than home no matter how bad it was.
Who is he? He is Louis Cohen. A normal 6 foot, lifeless green eyed boy, boring tan skin, and to top that he wore fake glasses only because his mother forced him to.
Well, that was how his parents made him perceive himself. My description of him would somehow be different. For example, his eyes were every hue of the forest, rimmed cooly with moss. Their lightness reminded him of summertime, when the sun-rays warmed each extended leaves. Next to the shade of his hair, that deepest brown, he was alive in the same way birds are, casually wild.
His parents thought he was a disgrace, a disappointment and a shame for the family. He wished they at least continued on just insulting him, but they had to a***e him too. Each hit was worse than the other.
Let me tell you a bit more about him. He has a golden heart of a seven year old. But his brain is much older and filled with so much information. He was the genius of the school. No subject felt hard for him, it was as if he had took those classes before.
He was staring outside the window. He had woke up before his alarm and couldn’t go back to sleep. His room wasn’t so big. Just a bed near a window and a few drawers for his stuff.
Suddenly, shouting rented the air. What was once peaceful became polluted with rage. Louis tensed.
“You useless little brat, come here right now, I’m hungry” His father’s voice boomed from downstairs.
He sighed and quickly rushed downstairs, hoping he wouldn’t be punished like last time.
As he walked down the stairs, he tried ignoring the pain in his twisted foot and injured hand. The day before, his father Brad came back to the house, angry after his boss had fired him.
You guessed it, he took out all his anger by hitting and kicking his son. It was always that way. Something upset him, he abused his son. Since he was young till high school. He wished that someday he would be able to fight back, but how much harm can a normal teenager do to a wrestler?
He wasn’t shocked since he always arrived late and didn’t do all his work. Both him and his wife were lazy and could go days without doing anything other than eating and laying in bed. Meanwhile, Louis was way more different. He loved busying himself with studying and learning too many things. He had never met a bookworm in his life, because he doesn’t go anywhere except his school. Also, both of his parents weren’t at all close to their family members. They had lived in another town before marrying each other, leaving it harder for him to seek help. He only knew his uncle though, who couldn’t do anything to help since he stayed in a infirmary with his wife. They were both old, perhaps in their late sixties and sick.
Louis groaned in pain every time he moved his right leg. It felt like it was coping with all the force being pressured on it but his hand still hurt more. His eyes rolled back black spots appeared, blurring his sight. He caught the handrail as if his life depended on it, trying to stand straight. He hadn’t had anything to eat since a day ago.
Seconds later, he heard his impatient father yell again, making him move in surprise. A yelp got out of his mouth as his leg gave out and he went down to one knee. He wanted to rest but didn’t dare let him wait anymore. When he stood up, he felt the faintness coming on fast. He fell headfirst down the remainder of the stairs landing in a miserable clump on the cold tile of the landing.
He was barely conscious as his head hit the ground harshly. Slowly, his eyes focused and were wide open, staring upwards. To his surprise, they were met with his father’s angry gaze. He was shouting and saying things that he couldn’t comprehend. His head was like in a haze, not able to process anything.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, it felt like a knife just went through his body. He let out a muffled scream, clutching his tummy. He crawled back, escaping his father’s grasp. He looked down to see what happened and found nothing. No knife, no sharp needle. He sighed, knowing he probably just gave him an extra strong kick.
To his dismay, his silence got his father even angrier. His hand reached out to his face, pulling him by his hair and then pushing him back on the wall.
After that, he wasn’t satisfied enough. Louis stared with wide eyes as he was removing his belt. Each second was going slower for him as it seemed like all the oxygen was deprived from the room. Brad started rotating it in circles, like a professional does to a wood on fire in a circus but his face looked more like a psycho.
To say he wasn’t scared would be a complete lie, his son was freaking out. He clenched his teeth at his hair being yanked up again. This time, he was laid on the stairs, more like pushed. His head bumped into the weak wooden stairs and it made a c***k sound.
He held his belt tightly in one hand, swaying it and landing it on his legs. He then, not looking at the direction, started hitting him everywhere he could reach until his wife called him for some help.
Tears escaped his eyes, running away upon his cheeks and leaving his body as if they couldn’t bear to witness yet another physical a***e.
He laid down on the ground with the feeling of his stomach and forehead throbbing with pain. Why couldn’t they have just a little pity and mercy for him? Why was he destined to be abused in this life?
Yet glad there were no new injuries or broken bones, he slowly stood up after several minutes, tiptoeing to the kitchen.
He looked around trying to find where the teapot could be. After a minute of searching, he finally found it. Lying on the floor in the corner. He bent down to grab it but due to the pain in his stomach it was so hard that it took more than around ten minutes for the pain to fade away. After he washed the dirty teapot filled with yellow stains, he started making breakfast. The worst thing was that he only could eat secretly while cooking.
He prepared the table and walked up to his room to get ready for school, not like he had so many clothes options to choose from.
He grabbed his grey hoodie which was neatly washed and waiting on the bed. It was the sort of hoodie that hugged him and brought a sense of safety. At least he could cover his scars and the small injuries on his face. He looked like he came from an underground concert from the nineteenth. Worn and torn jeans covered his legs. Gladly, his old vans gave a fresher vibe.
He brushed his hair with his hand considering he didn’t own a brush then after finishing, he rushed outside.
Once he was outside, he let out a breath of relief. Finally, no more abusive parents for six hours ahead.
The large yellow bus was waiting for him near the door as another sibling students were getting in. He rushed there and entered with them before sitting down.
That was a routine for him, the busman pitied him so much, thinking he was just a depressed poor kid. So, he drove him to school without taking a cent.
“Look who it is, the four eyed boy.”
Chuckled a girl. Louis turned his head and stared at her for a few seconds in an indecipherable emotion that made her feel uncomfortable before looking away. She looked to be in her sophomore year, young and a bully. Yes he was popular, but in the other way around.
Then, he ignored all of their snickers and hurtful words and just laid his head on the window thinking about life.
In movies, everyone like him gets a happily ever after. To be exact, they find a partner to stay with all of their life and their parents would stop dealing and being addicts or alcoholics. But in his case, they weren’t just that. It was his fate to be alone, lonely in this life begging for some mercy from his so called parents. He hated that idea that irresponsible people would bring kids just to have a slave.
Once they arrived, he waited for every student to get out before him so no one would have a chance to trip him and step on his legs like usual.
He walked to his locker, took out his math book and went straight to his first class. Math wasn’t his favorite subject, but he always succeeded.
He was the first in class. Nothing unusual. He took the seat in the back besides the window, waiting for when the door will be flown open as arrogant students entered.
‘Finally, some alone time.’
He sighed to himself.
- Writer
