1 The Good Life

"So, like, your doing all of this assignment, right? I'd hate to waste my time on something someone else can do," Carissa, my current science partner spoke as she looked down at her phone.

Carissa was the school belle. Everyone admired her, but also feared her. I was no different. Not only did she have the looks, but she had the backgroud as well.

Her father's a rich and famous politician. With one word from her, she could make anyone disappear. It also didn't help that she could seduce anyone she set her eyes on.

All the boys in the school were at her beck and call. Well, except for me, she's never attempted to seduce me.

"Yeah, I don't mind," I said, however, I did in fact mind.

I'm always put in this kind of situation. Whether it be coercion, fake buddy-buddy treatment, or peer pressure. And it's all because I'm at the bottom of the social hiearchy.

I faced reality a long time ago, life's unfair, and I just have to deal with that.

"Gee, thanks, you're a life saver," Carissa said half-heartedly.

She picked her bag up off the table, slipped her arm through the strap and walked out of the classroom still looking at her phone.

I sighed deeply. I hate these people. Guess I'll head home too. I'm smart, so academics are pretty easy. I picked my backpack up and began to leave the classroom.

As I opened the door to leave, I was greeted by our teacher Mr. Parsley.

"Going somewhere?" he asked sternly.

"I was just going to head home for today," I stated.

"Sorry, but you're on clean up duty Mr. Earnest. No one else wanted to do it and you're all that's left," He said while handing me a broom.

Hey, he remembered a nobody's name. But only nobodies remember nobodies.

This is also a normal occurence for me, but that doesn't make it any more tolerable.

Some people just want to go home.

After about 2 hours I had finally finished, Mr. Parsley watched me the entire time to make sure I did it all properly.

Screw that guy, am I right?

It was now 5:36PM, I noticed as I looked at the clock above the classroom doorway.

Great. Guess I'll be coming home late again. But that probably doesn't matter when there's no one to come home to.

My parents rented me an apartment in a shitty complex to live in by myself because they couldn't stand the thought of being affiliated with me.

It makes sense though, how could two good looking people like them give birth to something like me? Believe it not, however, we're still genetically related.

They had me tested four times before the D.N.A. analyzers threatened them with unconsitutional parenting infringement.

One time, they tried to make me under-go plastic surgery. I actually wanted it, but it was deemed unethical to operate on a minor without an serious reason.

Honestly, I would rather have been abandoned on the street, but I suppose that would trigger CPS's alarms.

As I walked home, I spotted some of my school bullies across the street.

Chris the 'Alpha Male,' Ava his 'Omega,' and 'Tristan,' his 'Beta.'

It was obvious Tristan was seeing Ava behind Chris' back, but Chris was too stupid to figure it out. At least I could find some solace in their rocky relationship.

I picked up my pace not wanting to get noticed by them.

"Hey Chris, it's that fugly you beat up a couple days ago, look he's still got that black eye," Tristan said.

Ugh, this dick rider exposed me.

"Hey, buddy, let's talk for a minute!" Chris said as he and his little live triangle approached me.

I knew not to run. Chris was the most athletic kid in the school, he would easily catch me. Also, I don't think my recent injuries would let me run anytime soon.

I have a fractured sternum along with a few fractured ribs and multiple bruises all over my body. Needless to say, I'm in a lot of pain.

Why am I not at the hospital? My parents told me they weren't going to pay for another hospital trip due to the high frequency of injuries I tend recieve.

My father said something along the lines of...

"It's your own ugly ass fault, grow a pair and fight back."

I found out early that that only tends to worsen the beatings I recieve.

Chris wrapped an arm around my shoulders and neck.

A small part of me was impressed that he was this willing to touch someone as ugly as me if it wasn't to beat me up.

"Buddy, pal, you got any money on you?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure," I complied, pulling out my wallet.

He snatched it from me, and began searching through it.

"This can't be all," Chris said as he held 2 dollars.

His posy started laughing at how broke I was.

"I know you've got more on you, hand over your bag," he accused.

I did this too.

He searched my bag, throwing all of my belongings onto the wet pavement.

"You have to be fucking kidding me, strip him!" Chris said angrily.

Tristan pushed me to the ground, he and Chris began taking my clothes off and searching my clothes.

This was a first. Pretty soon, I was left with nothing but the bandages that covered my entire body.

"You ugly piece of shit!" Chris yelled as he punched me in the face.

Mind you, this was all happening out in the middle of the street. No one cared, but that's just a reflection of how sick this city is.

I managed to catch a glimpse of Ava's face. It was a mix of pity and disgust, that's how most onlookers and girls looked at me.

Tristan joined in and pretty soon, I was bloody and beaten up again.

"Let's go! You better have some actual money next time," Chris yelled at his group and they followed.

I coughed a small pool of blood up as I turned on my side. At least they had the courtesy to leave me with my bandages. Wait, my torso feels warm and wet.

I looked down to find crimson stains forming on my bandages.

Damn, my wounds opened up again.

I crawled to gather my pants at least. I didn't want to move too much. I then put everything else in my bag and just layed there on the side walk. Everything hurt so much.

"Oh my god, are you okay!?" A girl's voice said.

I looked up to find our class president, Olivia, standing over me.

When she saw my face, she kind of recoiled, but still had some genuine concern.

I mean, I was bleeding, stripped, and curled up on the sidewalk. It's only natural I guess.

I used a nearby wall as support to stand up and leaned against it.

"Uh-I'll call the ambulance." She said.

"NO!" I yelled dryly.

I didn't mean to, but I couldn't afford upsetting my parents.

"But you're hurt," she protested as she pulled her phone out.

"Please...just...leave me alone," I said.

"What the hell is your problem?! I'm trying to help you!" She yelled at me this time.

"You...can...help by pissing off," I said angrily.

"Fine, be that way," Olivia huffed as she stormed off.

I picked my bag up, but fell down due to how weak I was.

I pounded my fist on the ground in frustration. DAMNIT!

I stood up again, this time distributing my weight more evenly.

I began limping my way home. Every step sent a wave of pain throughout my body.

When I arrived at the complex, I found that the elevator was out of commision.

Sure it was shitty and slow, but it's never been out of commision.

I wanted to scream in frustration. This meant that I would have to hike up 3 flights of stairs in this condition.

After an hour of agony I was finally at my apartment door.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my key, once inside, I grabbed my first aid kit and headed for the bathroom.

I slowly unrapped my injuries to see the extent of the damage. It. was bad. This could be permanent.

Blood dripped on the bathroom floor. As I was doing this, I could hear the assholes above me going at it. This day just can't get any worse.

I hopped in the shower to wash off all of the blood. It stung really bad. The low water pressure helped alleviate the pain a little though. As much as this hurt, it didn't even compare to what I had to do next.

I stepped out of the shower and dried myseld off as best I could. I folded a rag, then bit down on it.

Next, I popped the cap off a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured it all over my body.

It hurt really bad, so some of my screams escape through the rag.

My downstairs neighbor must've heard because I could hear two thuds through my floor.

I'll cut them some slack, she's a single mother of 4. People got there own shit to deal with.

I finished up and wrapped new bandages around myself again. I was practically a pro by now from often I have to do it.

I looked at myself in the mirror and suddenly everything that ever happened to me came crashing down on me.

I screamed at my reflection, and punched the mirror causing it to shatter. My fist bled everywhere and I just cried.

The rest was a blur. Now I'm standing on the balcony to the complex.

I knew what I needed to do. All of the suicides I had heard about in the news all made sense at once. Those people didn't want to die, they just wanted relief, they wanted to be free.

I stood up on the balcony with no audience, that's how I wanted it.

Was it my fault I was born ugly?

Was it my fault, my family abandoned me?

Was it my fault that I've been a victim all my life?

That answer is yes to all of it.

Because if I had just died when I was born, I wouldn't have suffered this much. I'm glad to be one of the lucky ones, some people can't even escape like me.

Suddenly, the ground was approaching fast.

What's this? A light? It's getting brighter. So this is the good life, it's not so bad.

The End