FramedMature

Xach

Shuffling down the corridor, I try my hardest to remain obscure, to be completely invisible to the world, but that’s not possible, now is it? Not when your me. I wish for a second, the floor would give way beneath my feet, and allow me to sink into a deep dark place, that no one but I know, but that's not possible either. So what does little old me do? I don't know, but whatever it is, I seem to have unknowingly done it, cause in those faces, those eyes that look at me so scared and angry at the same time, there is a mark, that I have created, a mark. A mark of fright that lingers on n their blissful naive eyes, a mark of animal instinct that shapes the entire structure of their face. A mark that I left behind by trying to make them leave me alone.
I guess in a way, it worked.

Something's not right, they seem slightly more at disarray here. Scattering away from me, like cockroaches do at the first whiff of Pest-Control. I walk on to the source of confusion, ah yes, there it is.
Spray painted on the wall- "THIS SCHOOL REEKS OF F*CK"

It was so badly done too, the crass black paint dripping off the edges of each letter, like blood from an open wound. Horrible. And there, next to the graffiti, stood, the Fat Man, AKA The Principal.

Well, I had nothing to do with this, no reason to hang about. I began to turn away, when his small beady black eyes caught my own. He beckoned for me with a single finger. As I walked towards him, I felt a sudden wave of disgust.

"Son," His eyes were like fire, "I think we have had about enough of this from you," AIt takes me a moment to register what Fat Man is trying to imply, I was too buisy wondering whats for lunch.

"LISTEN TO ME!" He yells through the corridor. I turn to look at him.

"What, I got English next."

"Son, I know a lot about you, alot, but I never suspected this!" He points to the wall, "This is terrible, even for yourr standereds!!"

"Ya, I know, I wouldn't do nothing like that." He has no evidence, so, no way he can blame me. I was boiling inside, but I had to keep my calm.

"Then can you explain why there are spray paints in your locker!?" That's it, I blow.

"WHO THE HELL GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO GO THROUGH MY LOCKER!?!" I yell. There is stuff in there no one should see...ever.

"This did." He pointed at the wall.

"WHAT THE...SO NOW ANYTHING HAPPENS, AND IM PRIME SUSPECT?!" I couldn't help it.

"So than explain...why were there spray paints in your locker." I couldn't answer him. I just couldn't. I just alowed myself to silently fume inside.

"Exactly." Fat Man looks all triumphant. I have to swallow my pride, if I want to keep my secret.

"Detention, and I’m calling your father. This has to be dealt with" Shit. No. He cannot do that. I'd rather take a year of detention than my father.

"No, listen, I’m sorry," I'll ...take a week  of detention alright, even a month , fine?" Fat Man looks at me.

"Clean that up." He says and walks away. I begin to walk to the suply closet, holding my head under my shoulders. Why is it me? Why is it always me?! He thinks he knows me oh so well, if only he really did. If only.

The End

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