A normal kid walks down the crowded hall,
clutching his books to his chest, looking down at the ground.
His hair is long and somewhat dirty.
His clothes are from Good Will,
and his shoes are just a Walmart brand.
He feels invisible, the way he feels everyday.
He doesn't mind it most days, but today he does
He walks by a group of 4 guys, praying to anybody listening
“Please, don’t let them see me. Please.”
They notice him out of all of the kids and walk up behind him.
The bell rings and the hallway clears out, leaving him alone with these kids.
They push him, making him drop his books and knocking him down.
“Well look who it is. It’s Greasy. Hey greasy, did your mom buy those clothes from Goodwill? They look really ratty and what’s with your shoes? Are they from Walmart, from the homo section?”
He starts to pick his books up, keeping his head down, holding back tears.
They kick his books away, and kick him in the stomach.
Pain shoots through him like lightning, causing him to gasp.
Tears are streaming from his eyes.
“Look, we made the little girl cry.” They snicker and kick him again.
He curls into a ball and prays that a teacher will walk down the hall.
They continue to kick him over and over again, until they leave him, having conducted their fun.
He lays on the ground, crying, in pain and bloody.
He picks up his things, tears falling to the ground.
Once he collects his things, he goes to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror.
He wipes the blood away from him mouth and the tears from his eyes.
He pulls out his cell phone and calls his mom, telling her that he doesn’t feel well and wants to go home.
This normal kid,
whose hair was a little long and dirty,
whose mom bought his clothes from Goodwill and Walmart,
this kid who, because of how he looks and dresses, contemplates killing himself
because he feels as if nobody would miss him.
He feels like if he left this cruel world tonight,
nobody would bat an eye, or acknowledge that he was gone.