|You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you -John Green|

True P.O.V

This is the last day of school for winter break, I was glad because I didn't have to see Mr. Troy or Union's punk faces anymore until we return to school on January 6th.

At that point I'd be safe from that threat, but I'd be surrounded by another called my family. It would be even better if my dad didn't invite any people, especially his mafia buddies, and keep them away from our house but I knew that on Christmas and a couple days surrounding it, my family, excluding myself, would be going on a trip to the winter cabin dad near Washington, I've only been there twice, once when I was four the other time when I was eight, and I found out that I only went because I had the flu at the time and they couldn't leave me home alone with the flu or they might have came back and found me dead.

I warmed at that, thinking back on it, at least they didn't want me dead.

I looked up at the clock to see Mrs. Michelle telling us about graphs or something, it's amazing I haven't flunked this class yet, since I didn't really focus and seemed to gaze into the nothingness instead of paying attention. Claire was sitting next to me, her eyebrows forward, and sharp, this was her focused face, and I knew not to bother her since she wasn't a person to bother when she was focused, it would disrupt her train of thought and she'd have you for it.

I didn't want the hell version of her on my tail so I kept my mouth shut, I silently begged the slow ticking clock to go faster. To tick and release me from this class, even though I really didn't want to go to cooking class, I simply didn't want to remain in this class, which I knew I'd flunk eventually.

I look down at the empty page in my journal for this class, seeing it's page empty, maybe Claire would let me look at her's to study and attempt to not fail this class as soon as we get back from winter break.

I refused to fail at school, I may fail at life, but school isn't suppost to be failable, not this early in the year anyway.

Yes I know I'm halfway though, but normally kids don't panick about grades until about three-fourth through the year and closer to the spring.

But knowing me, I might not be alive in the spring of 2017, a guy could hope because honestly I don't want to be alive in 2017 at all, it would be so easy for me to say I quit right here and now. But I don't and I can't explain why I don't just die but life is life, and I'll live it as long as I can, which isn't going to be long considering that I already beg myself to die now, and my self resilience isn't extremely strong even now. I don't even plan to act strong when I've been told I'm the opposite, I'm weak and worthless, that's what they'd tell me, and over time, I've come to believe those words spoken, but something is always telling me there wrong but deep down inside of me, I think there true.

Maybe that's why I believe the words spoken, and maybe not. I can't explain it.

I don't want to explain my life, it's to messed up for anyone to care.

But that's just what I believe, I hope that I'm wrong but I'm not to sure I am.

But I'll take it day by day.

The bell overhead rings and everyone gets up and heads to their next class.

Even I had to admit, there was a certain excitement spreading through the school about what someone was going to do over break, where they were going to go, what they were getting for there holiday, since some kids were Jewish and other Christian. I didn't judge, I simply didn't have a religion, I'm a atheist.

That's good enough for anyone in this school, since the majority of the students, my peers, were atheist.

But hey, it is the modern world, people can't force religions on people anymore. That shit is for history, another class I was sure I am going to fail.

I pass almost everyone, though you could say I was creeping though the halls since I wanted to avoid Union, which had became a task that I was getting very good at throughout the past few days.

I sneaked into my cooking class, which isn't something I signed up for, it was randomized per student, and I just happened to get cooking, and I seriously don't mind it, I liked this class but I didn't prefer it compared to Musical Education on Wendsday.

I sat down next to my assigned kitchen set and waited for my partner, a bratty cheerleader girl named Fiona, who didn't like me what-so-ever.

But when she came in something was definitely different.

Old tear stains were left on her cheeks as she obviously looked like she was about to burst into more tears but I wasn't to sure what was wrong with her.

I ignored her when she sat down next to me, putting her head between her arms as she looked ready to start balling her secrets away. Her outfit was wrong to. I was used to seeing her in scanky shirts and tiny skirts but that wasn't what she wore today. A long sleeved shirt replaced her tank, and demin jeans replaced her small skirts something was wrong, very wrong, and not that it was any of my business but she was freaking me out.

"Hey . . . are you okay?" I ask quietly, not wanting to draw attention to us, and when she popped her head at me, her mascara slowly trailing down her cheeks and when I looked into her once bright, but now dull brown eyes and saw something I knew was in my eyes as well, the sense of being used.

She'd be used like I had.

Sexually.

But it was that moment I didn't want to breach into her life, it was her life to deal with, and I knew she wouldn't have asked me if I was okay, but that makes me the better person, because I was concerned about somebody but myself, and I knew she was a self-centered girl who'd be over it in a view days.

I wasn't.

My life was going to end soon, and she wouldn't care. Nobody would care, because there all narcissist's and that's all they'll ever be.