Rules and Regulations

Jeremiah

The cafeteria door slams shut behind me.

“Germ! Germ! Germ!” Their taunts and laughter follow after me as I power down the hallway.

The pressure building behind my eyes is almost too much to bear. I sniff back my sobs, wiping my nose with my stretched sleeve, but immediately regret it as soon as the damp, foul smelling fabric touches my skin. The sharp mix of odors hits my nose, making me gag.

Don’t react. Don’t show weakness. They don’t get to see you cry.

I just need to find a bathroom.

I turn the corner, weaving past students heading to their next classes. I can feel their eyes on me. Quiet snickers follow me like a shadow. But it’s the way they scatter, careful not to brush against me, that makes me feel vile.

Like some sort of specimen.

Just get to the bathroom.

I can forget about making it to my last period classes. It doesn’t matter. I’m ahead anyway. I can afford one damn day. Just have to get out of here. As far away from the cafeteria as possible.

Finally, I burst through the bathroom door, thanking my lucky stars that it’s empty.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my breath catches.

Dark, warm, sticky sludge drips down my hair and onto my shoulders. My stomach turns as I begin washing the mess away, watching the mixture tint the bathroom sink.

I hate them.

I hate this stupid school.

But most of all, I hate myself. For believing in those warm eyes and kind words.

What was I thinking, believing he actually wanted to be my friend?

How pathetic?

Well, joke’s on him. I don’t need him or anyone else.

Soon, I’ll graduate, get the hell out of this place, and never have to see anyone from this stupid town again.

Especially Chase—fucking—Rutherford.