((WARNING: This fanfiction has a few serious themes, such as suicide, blood, crime, and death. Please beware, this is a mature fanfiction. Thank you.

Also, it's terrible. Just sayin'.))

"Hey, emo chick!" The obnoxious voice flooded my ear drums. I sighed and turned around on my black shoes. "Gonna go cut yourself before the test tomorrow?"

"I don't have the time for this," I replied at his terrible excuse for an insult. "I suggest you look across the street next time you run after me. You were nearly crushed under the weight of that truck."

"He stopped. Maybe if you were to move the hair out of your eyes, you'd be able to see that." He laughed and fist bumped his hit man behind him.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a human being." I turned around and kept walking.

"Look at you, acting all tough and shit. I bet you couldn't even hurt a fly." He teased.

I reached into my bookbag and pulled out the pistol in one of the pockets, pointing it at them. The two boys weren't laughing anymore.

"W-woah! JK, dude!" He said with his hands in the air as he backed away.

"Scram." I tilted the gun in their direction. They started running for their young lives.

Idiots. I smiled at myself as I put the toy gun back in my bag and started walking home.

"Maria, I-"

"Don't talk to me, you asshole!" My mother yelled.

"I own you!" Her boyfriend said before I heard him slap her across the face. I dropped my bag to the ground and marched into the kitchen, sighing once again.

"Really?" I said as I walked in. "Get the fuck out of here. I'm sick of your face."

He looked at me, then back at my mother, who was holding a blood soaked rag to her nose.

"Why should I listen to a little girl like you?" He snarled.

"Last time I checked, you're only 21. I'm 17. You walk in here like you own the place when you're only four years older then me." I growled, looking him in the eye. "Get out before I shove a fucking spoon up your ass."

He mumbled something as he walked out of the back foor. I heard his motorcycle pull out of the driveway.

"Thanks," Mother said, blowing her nose.

"Can't you just break up with him already?" I said, chugging a bottle of water. "I don't like it when he hurts you."

"I tried," she replied.

"Oh," I gulped. "Hey, I'm going upstairs, okay?"

"You got it," she was holding a bag of ice to her swollen nose and cheek. "Call if you need anything."

"Alright," I found my way up the stairs and into my small bedroom. There was a blinking light on my laptop. I opened it, sitting on my bed. Just emails.

Free Penis Enlargement!

Not gonna need that.

Lifetime vacation to the Bahamas!

I think I'll pass.

Then, I saw one email that caught my eye. There were no words on it. No subject, no attachments. The address was just a combination of random letters. I purposely avoided it, expecting it to be a virus of some sort. I scrolled down only to see the email repeated over and over again. I scrolled back up and the advertisements were replaced with the same blank email, all sent at the same time.

"What the-?" I asked as I reached up with my mouse to refresh the page. I clicked the button. Nothing happened. I clicked again, twice this time. No differences. I clicked the X in the corner of the screen. Not even that was working. Then, my computer crashed, my vision filling with the darkness. I swore to myself. "Damn technology. I just wanted to see if Miss Jay got the stupid report."

I slammed it shut and fell backwards onto my bed.

I had art class the next day in first period. I walked inside, sitting on my assigned, paint-splattered stool. I had to sit in the corner of the room because my "negativity distracted the other students," as Mr. Fredrickson said.

I laid my head down on the table and closed my eyes, ready to fall asleep. Thank god, the room was as quiet as a mouse...what? My head flung itself up when I realized I was the only one in the room. Even Mr. F wasn't there to tell me how I did everything wrong. I sat up and started walking out into the hallway, looking around. Maybe I just didn't hear him and they took the students to the school yard or something.

"Where do you think you're going?" I said as I began to walk. I turned around. That stupud boy from yesterday had his arms crossed across his chest. "You have some explaining to do."

"I don't need to explain anything."

"I know that gun was a fake." He said, walking towards me.

"Really? You ran away pretty fast." I smirked, imitating his threatening behavior. "Are you sure you weren't just scared?"

"I don't like your little jokes, (Y/N)." He grumbled. "You're just a little attention whore."

"Yeah, that's it. I dress like this to make people look at me." I said sarcastically. "Just get out of here."

"I don't like your tone." He said, leaning against a cabinet. Suddenly, he lunged at me with a pair of scissors in his hands. I backed out of the way just in time.

"What the hell?" I yelled, looking around the room. "You're insane!"

"Am I?" He swung at me again. "I think it's the other way around!"

"I'm not trying to murder somebody!" I responded as I ran in between the tables across the room. I picked up one of the sculpting knives and readied myself. "Calm the fuck down!"

"No! You're the freak here! Not me!" He yelled. Where the hell was everyone else!? "Just die!"

"I'm not leaving this world yet," I growled as I kicked him in between his legs. He fell to the ground for a couple seconds before grabbing a hold of my foot, pulling me down with him. He started swinging the scissors down at my legs. Without thinking, I kicked him hard in the jaw, giving me time to stand up and run over to the shelves. I grabbed a paint bottle and ran back over to him. While he was rubbing his jaw, I pushed down on his chest with my shoe and squeezed the bottle. He started choking and gagging on the thick liquid dripping down his tongue and throat. My mind kept telling me to stop, but my hands weren't listening to it. Then, the bottle started to sputter. That's when I realized that the boy who's name I never knew had stopped moving.