Yet another whispered sounded, yet the words seemed so clear. "There's no room for you in this world."
More insults came out of parted lips, an arrow striking into me with each one, along with the paper balls smacking against my head.
I'd like to say that it doesn't hurt me, all these words and sputtered crap, but if I did I would be lying.
I know what you're thinking. Your lips are probably shut tight, eyes narrowed as you give this page the suck-it-up look. Well it's time for you to shut your trap before anything comes out. I've gone through enough, and I'm not going to stand for yet another stranger saying shit that will only ruin me.
So go do something useful or keep quiet and read. I'm too tired to deal with you today.
Anyways, like usual, I just ignore the chatter, letting the people say what they want. In the hopes that maybe, just maybe, they will give up. They'll have to give up someday, right?
Uh. I can't dwell into this stuff right now, not when trying to deal with the issue while it's still upfront and in my face. Thinking about these kinds of things now .. it'll only lead to a serious mental breakdown. Or maybe something even worse.
Sometimes the best way to deal with this is to think of something funny, perhaps even hilarious.
That's why it kind of sucks to have nothing humorous sprouting up in my mind. It's days like these that make me believe that life is a blessing.
Oh yes. Life is WONDERFUL.
Sighing, I continue my way through the hallway, making a pit stop at the art room. I had recently started bringing my sketchbook to school, it was something to work on during the school day. For when I was bored, waiting for something, or just not feeling like receiving an education. So, because of this sudden interest in drawing, I felt like it was best to get some colored pencils, or something. To finish off my art walk. Hence why I was here at the art room, for those supplies.
I stepped inside the small space, letting the door close behind me with a soft click before continuing on. I would have gone straight for the section labeled "SUPPLIES" if something else hadn't caught my eye.
It was a painting.
A hand was reaching through a large pool of water, it's fingers stretched out and reaching for something. Anther arm was stretching out of the water, gripping at a stray piece of wood, seeming to hold onto it tightly. There was no face or any other human parts to be seen, if you were not counting the faces in the sky, the faces with the carved smiles and knowing eyes. Everything was dark and brooding, murderous even. Even the background was dark, smudged colors of blue, purple, and black. Everything was laughing, cheering on the possible death of this human struggling to get a breath of life. Yet, the arms still seemed to hold something: hope. A knowing that the person it was would get out alive. Yes, this person was wrestling for survival. But he was just under the water, not yet breathing it in.
I slowly walked forward, reaching out and gently touching the dried pigment. "Beautiful .." I whispered, eyes widening slightly in awe.
"What are you doing?"
I jumped at the sudden voice, gasping loudly and spinning around, swiveling my body in order to not topple the painting over. I looked upward, expecting to see an angry face. Only to be greeted with a beautiful face filled with curiosity.
He was tall, maybe six feet at most. He had long blonde hair, the longest strands reaching mid-neck, the color of the 'mane' slowly changing to a light brown. His skin was a nice mixture, the shading being what one would call a toffee color, which went perfectly with his hazel eyes. The small little flaws he had seemed to add to his attractiveness. Like the slight crookedness of his nose or the scar running along the bridge of his nose. Everything paired along with his clothing (a Bring Me The Horizon shirt, gray jeans, and plain black chucks) seemed to just come together to show this sexy man.
I wonder if I look okay.
I would have continued to think of how amazing he looked if his question hadn't finally registered. My excitement then seemed to calm down and I sobered, looking up at him. "I was just surprised, by this painting. It's beautiful, it perfectly captures life and the strive that those suffering have to survive," I whispered, turning slightly to take a glance at the artwork behind me. "Is it yours?"
A smile suddenly lit up his face and he nodded, seeming to grow a bit sheepish. "Yeah. I'm glad that you can see all of that in it. That's what I was aiming for, so that people would be able to understand."
There was only one thing I could say to that.
That's when he reached across the space between us, taking my hand and introducing himself as Leo.
Never in my life had I imagined I would meet someone so beautiful.
Oh, I didn't introduce myself. My name's Xavier.
And did I mention I was gay?
I don't know why they call me a slut either.