Your Own Personal Nightmare
Gary was in a bad mood.
Maybe bad mood wasn't the greatest choice of wording; Gary was always in a bad mood. Perpetual funk seemed to more accurately describe Gary at the present moment. That mixed with his general nastiness made him a force that the majority of the school's population avoided more than usual. At least, that was on the first day.
Gary, now on day two of his "funk", was lying on his back arms crossed, staring angrily out the window at the rising sun, willing it mind and soul to sink back into the horizon. Light was not something he was prepared to face at the moment. He gave a resigned sigh and closed his eyes.
Today was going to be a shitty day.
--
They had fallen asleep together, in a tangle of limbs and tears. He hated himself now more than ever, and was even debated whether or not he should make his great escape now. But the idea repulsed him; it made him feel like he was trying to leave after a one night stand. This, however, was his family, not some awkward affair. They sure made him feel that way though, his family, the awkward affair. Everything about who he was disgusted him, though it shouldn't. Even the family home made him sick to his stomach; everything about it was so pretentious and fake.
He sighed and slowly untangled himself from the mess of limbs, careful not to wake her and made his way to the bathroom to wash his face, hoping to wake from his own personal nightmare.
--
Zoe Taylor fucking hated this place.
The list of reasons would go on for days. It stank to high hell; the food was probably more fit as an experimental chemical than it was for consumption, and it was possible that the guys at the school were more bitchy and underhanded than the girls were. All were very legitimate reasons, but none of them topped her ever growing list of why she was going to end up pay good money to a shrink when she was older. The position was reserved for what could only be the greasiest, nastiest, most perverted man on campus. He liked to be called Mr. Burton; she liked to call him Greasy Bear.
Zoe's patience with the ever persistent Greasy was wearing dangerously thin. He seemed to have taken a special interest in her, and his not so subtle quips during class time were beyond awkward. But she knew she had to wait until she had enough ammunition to go after him. Too soon, and the oblivious principle would just chalk it up to some kind of twisted school tradition. No, she would have to wait until she had something really damaging.
Zoe tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and put her school blouse on. Face paint seemed appropriate at the moment.
She was going to war after all.
--
It was decided.
He really hated mornings.
--
He heard, choking, laboured breathing in the distance, almost like someone was dying. He was frozen, unsure where the sound was coming from, and helpless to move to do anything about it. He swore he heard the Twilight Zone theme tinkering somewhere off in the distance. He swallowed hard and made his way out of the bathroom quickly, his face still wet. That's where he found her, clawing at her stomach, writhing on the floor like there was a monster trapped deep within her body, begging to be set free. Frantically, he searched he pockets for the small bottle, and popped it open. He knelt down to her side, and noticed she was biting her lip with her jaw so locked that she was drawing blood. Easing he mouth open gently, he placed the small pill on her tongue and watched her swallow.
He wrapped her tightly in his arms, tears threatening to spill. "Mom . . ."
He was glad, he thought, he face was still wet, as hot tears mingled with cold water.
--
That irritatingly searing migraine was still going strong in a place somewhere behind his eyes. He noted dully that it was 9:50. He was officially late for his classes; though he wasn't sure he cared to much at the moment. He also noticed that the sun decided to do what it pleased, being well above the horizon. He would deal with that later.
He flexed his arms experimentally and winced slightly, he felt sore all over, like was actually physically ill. He sighed heavily and sank back deeply into his sheets, maybe staying in bed would be a good idea. He could only take over the school if he was in top shape anyways.
--
No one ever said she didn't have a temper.
Far from it, anyone she knew would attest to what a firecracker she really was; she preferred fiery, really, it didn't sound so violent. But now, she was livid. The resident and ever loveable Greasy Bear pushed and shattered the limits. Zoe roughly brushed at her face, embarrassed by the stinging she felt behind her eyes. Showing weakness was not an option, but she couldn't feel anything but hopelessness. This man was taking her dignity and ripping it to shreds, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take.
--
Gary needed something to do.
He wasn't sure how much more boredom he could take.
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Okay, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, and the lack of excitement too, but I promise no more of that ! I will have a chapter up in a few days and with some promised boy love !