I walked to my locker and just messed around with a few things in there to waste time. I let out a sigh and saw my sleeve was raised from me digging in my bag. I quickly pulled it down, no one needs to see all of those fucking bruises and scars.

The bell rang and kids began flooding the halls. I closed my locker and walked to my next class. I sat in the last chair by the window. The chair next to me pulled out again. I groaned inside my head.

"Look at me." The person said.

I kept my glance out the window. I heard a growl. Suddenly my chair is grabbed again and he turned me. I silently glared at him knowing that he probably couldn't tell I was.

"Look at me." He said demanding.

I flipped him off and turned in my seat him groan and I smirked. Fuck you too buddy.

"If you don't look at me I will take off your hood." He threatened.

My face went blank. No emotion showing. I felt his hand over my hood. I quickly grabbed this hand and twisted it, I jumped up and backed away from him trying to distance myself from him.

He rubbed his wrist which is now red. I held my gaze on him, watching his movements. That is 2 people in one day. What the hell?

"I just wanna know why." I heard him say.

To bad.

He can go fuck himself for all I care. It's not his business, why can't people understand that? I swear if one more person asks me about my hood today....I will not be afraid to punch them in the face.

"Why do you hide behind your hood?" He questioned.

I just ignored him some more. You could say I'm good at it. God knows I haven't spoken since father started beating me, well besides the few word I say to Nala. I mean I don't mind not talking... It's just the annoying people that won't leave me alone if I don't talk to them.

A paper and pen slid across the desk to me. I looked at it confused and followed the hand up to the owner. For fucks sake. He held a pleading look on is face. I groaned and looked away.

"Look, I understand that you don't want to talk to me, well anyone for that matter. Can you just cooperate with me?" He asked.

I grabbed the stupid paper and pen and silently glared at him. His face held a look of victory and happiness. I quickly wrote something down on the paper and slid it to him, "What do you want?"

He looked at me confused. His eyebrows furrowed together. I rolled my eyes and sat back down in my chair and made sure I was still a good distance away from him.

"Hey.... I don't what anything.... I swear. I mean it's gotta be lonely. You have no friends and the teachers don't like you."

I grabbed the paper and scribbled on my reply and then slid it back, "Exactly.... What's your point?"

"I just thought you would want someone to actually talk to you." He said with sadness in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the paper again. I wrote on it and shoved it in his chest. Damn that is one solid chest, " I don't want your pity."

He looked at me shocked. He quickly shook his head, "I'm not giving you pity. I just care about other people."

God damn he is annoying. I don't understand why he can't just be like everyone else and not care about me. I'm used to it, this is not comforting in any way. I understand that he is trying here, but I just cant trust anyone with any of my shit, plus they don't deserve to have me as their burden.

"Come on... Just this once... Let someone in." He said.

I felt my body go tense and I completely shut down. A brief conscious came back to me and I quickly got up and left. Ugh fuck! I am going to get a hell of a beating tonight, I just ditched 2 classes. That is a guaranteed call home. God dammit! And if he is home before normal then I will be punished even worse because he wants his food ready within a half an hour when he gets home.

Fuck.

I'll just leave early for my last hour. I could get home early, make sure the food is good. Maybe make him dessert. Fuck what was I thinking. His beady eyes were engraved into my head. The way his face swelled up in anger. I just don't understand what I did wrong to make him so mad at me.

I walked to my next class and stood by the door. I looked at my hands and saw the bruises. I laid my back flat against the wall and began sliding down so I was sitting on the floor and gently pulled my knees up to my chest and laid my head on them.

Why? Why does my life have to be so fucked up? Is it all my fault? Was I the reason my mother left us? Was it my fault all along? Is that why my father beats me?

I sat there, just sat there in the middle of the hallway debating if it was my fault. Maybe it was my fault, maybe I do deserve what I have been receiving from my father. It was me all along.

The bell went off the halls flooded with kids again.