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This was a short story I gave to my teacher just before the holidays started. I do apologize in advance for grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.
*I, in no way shape or form, against homosexuality. It was the prompt from our teacher to write a story about someone being bullied.* Again I apologize if you are offended and please do tell me if you are so I can take this blog down.
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[center]The Blade[/center]
I tread in late for school again. Gripping hard onto my backpack I proceed to walk the empty hall. Lockers line up side to side and it seems to go on for miles. In truth, I didn???t really want to go back to school. Not after that one time when I was out with my friends.

It was just another
night out with my friends. They chattered about the usual: girls, sports, who
liked who. They pestered me about this one girl. They poked and prodded me
saying that I should go out with her. I was so mad that I finally said it. I wish now that I didn???t.

???I???m gay, guys. Can you stop annoying me now????

I still feel the pain that each of them did to me. It???s weird
how just by saying one thing that is wrong with you it can spiral into an
endless hate. Feral, they attack with no end in sight until some old man
finally put a stop to it. I think now what they did to me. Bruises and scars
are covering my body like tattoos. I still have them, despite this event happening
weeks ago. It is a good thing that they have started fading before my parents
can see. If they ever find out then my life is over. My father is against homosexuality and my mother, who is even more intimidating, supports her husband one hundred percent.

I sigh as I close the locker door. I hear the bell ring signalling the next class. I stumble to get around my next class because of one of my ???friend???. This one particular person is the one responsible for the whole student body knowing of my sexuality, even the teachers now know about this and they aren???t really that supportive either. I hear the principal is a massive homophobe and I hate to get onto the bad side of him. That is why I have made a decision to take the high road and just take it. There is only this year left then I can leave and never come back to this place, but sometimes the high road isn???t a suitable pathway.

I would like to do something about this, this whole bullying thing but I just can???t. The teachers only wholly listen to me, I am scared to death telling my parents and friends? I scoff just thinking about it. I am alone in this whole fiasco that is my life. Alone.

***

I try my best to hold onto the tray of food between my hands. Even though I am trying my best to hold on there are those people that try to trip me up or that wayward juice box or piece of food coming for me.

I get there, eventually, and I sit down by myself and start eating. Since that day I am also finding it hard to eat. It???s not that the food is terrible, I just feel that I can???t eat as I always do. I push my tray away from me and first thing I hear was the sound of him.

???Where is he???? The boy says shouting.

I turn around and I see everyone staring at me. It feels like he is the conductor and everyone else is the musicians. What he do everyone obeys. He walks closer to me. The people staring at him as if he was an idol. He walks closer and closer again. My breath hitching when he is right in front of me.

???How are you feeling, fairy???? He says with a laugh and everyone else around the cafeteria is also laughing. I also see from my peripheral vision that the teachers that are also smirking.

I didn???t answer him. If I did it was just an excuse for him to shout at me. I turn back around and start to ignore the boy. This, however, just made him angry. He grab my shoulder and turn me around to face him. My eyes now starting to feel heavy as tears threatening to fall from them any minute now. I didn't deserve this.

"You didn't answer me."

I mutter a few words incoherently and the boy edged his face closer to try and listen. He gives a smirk and whispers in my ear.

"You deserve to die..."

That is it. I lost it. I move my hands to his arm and pull them from my shoulder. The boy stumbles backwards in shock at my sudden change of attitude. I stand and walk over to him. I can see that he is fearing what is about to happen. He is pathetic. I made a fist with my left hand and is about to punch him when the principal suddenly appear to stop me.

"That is enough. Go to my office now."

My eyes widen. I cannot believe I just did this. I didn't mean to. I sigh and start to walk out of the cafeteria. Dozens upon dozens of eyes staring at me as if after all the events, I am still the prey, the weaker one.

I make it to the principal's office and the man gestures for me to sit. I does so and he clears his throat before he speaks.

"I understand that you have done something in the cafeteria that is inexcusable."

Inexcusable? Please he oversees everything that happens in the cafeteria and the moment I start to do something I get in trouble. I just nod my head and start to look somewhere else to avoid the man's hateful eyes. I can feel them boring into my head as if it is a drill. He clears his throat again.

"This is why I have decided to let you go. I have notified your parents about the situation and why you are constantly the target of everyone."

I look at him with wide eyes. He is expelling me because of one fight. I didn't even do anything! I stand up from the chair then stare at the man. My eyes tells him a million stories of how much hate I feel for him. I start to walk out the door and the minute I get out of the office I start to run. I know my parents are not home yet so the answering machine must still have the message. I run as fast as I could. I reach the main gate and I see him again. He is about to tackle me but instead I manage to kick the boy in the stomach. I smile for a few seconds but now I have to get home.

***

I am too late. My parents are home early and they give me a lecture of how much they hate me. How much they really despise me because of my orientation. I say I am sorry to them but it didn't really help. It is the first time that I have seen my dad so...so angry. He hits me several time and tells me to go to my room.

I sit on my bed. Thinking of what to do with my life, now that it is over. I go to the bathroom to wash my face from all the tears that are continuing to fall down my face. Then I see it. The blade sitting silently on the pristine white sink.

I grip the razor sharp blade right; it draws some blood from my pale hands but not of that matters any more. Nothing...matters any more. A few wayward tears fall from my face. I guess this is a way of my body telling me that it is thankful for what is about to happen. No more bruise, scars. No more hateful words and judging eyes. In a sense, I too am...thankful