school of tears

school is hell. he’s running away from the bullies. his legs feel sore, breaking down slowly, almost like they will fall apart any time soon. they’re coming. he hears footsteps and he paces faster.

he ends up falling, tripping on his own shoelace before tumbling heavily onto the floor. the sound of the footsteps stop and his vision is black now.

he can’t see but he can feel pain. pain rushing through his system as he winces at every kick thrown at him. he drearily opens his eyes ; there are onlookers yet no one is stopping the bullies. because they know that helping would hurt themselves. in order to survive, stay selfish. he is proud of them. everything is numb. he head spins. he feels nothing


compassion runs in his blood. it’s normal for him to help yet being nice is his complex. he’s used – taken advantage of by everyone around him.

they mistreat his kindness, using and toying him in as many ways as they can ; till he is broken inside out. he has spent nights alone, wailing devastatingly at the corner of his room, wondering what he has done wrong to deserve it. he has not done anything. he doesn’t deserve it

he wishes for a hero to rescue him, take away the pain inflicted by others upon him. he wants justice to be taken. don’t be blinded by justice – the hero is dead.

when he rants , they tell him to brush it off but that’s only something an adult can do. it isn’t an easy task you see ; to have blunt remarks forgotten. even if it’s buried ten feet underground, it will still remain as clear as crystal in his mind. how could he ever let those hurtful words leave him mind – erase it off me my hero. there is no hero – he is dead

school is like a battleground. he has to step on the weak to strengthen himself. he can’t bear to hurt others yet he is forced to hurt others in order to protect himself. there is no alternative way. when he looks at the pained expression the victim gives, his heart swells and everything feels sour yet he does not stop – he can’t stop because he is waiting. he is waiting for the victim’s friend to come to the rescue yet to no avail. when you are in trouble, you’re alone.

he gives up on friends. maybe it’s the morals he has been taught since he was a child ; friends are for pretend. but as he sees how the victim struggles alone, he can’t help but agree. in this world, you’re alone.

as he gives the victim one last punch, he does not feel like a winner. there is no triumph filtering through him, just emptiness. there is no victor – everyone will lose.

instead of pleasure, he feels pain. it is time. goodbye

he is his own hero

he saved himself

don’t be blinded by justice – the hero is dead ; he is dead.


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