Jeremy Scott had never been a popular boy. He won’t deny that. Always a loner, never like all the others. Always...different. Always treated different, like he was below them; just there for their cruel amusement. Every day was torture now.

Today is like any other, as Jeremy walks to school alone. His hands are clenched his dark eyes stare downwards through thick glasses, in deep concentration. He walks with as much confidence as he can muster, but his eyes give away the fear that runs deep inside and chills his entire body. ‘No’, Jeremy thinks, ‘Today is not like any other day. Today is different’ Anxiety grabs his chest as his fingers brush against the cold metal inside his jacket pocket. Today is different.

He walks into the school, and he wishes he was invisible; wishes that everyone would just leave him alone. Being ignored completely would be heaven compared to those constant whispers, hushed giggling, pointing fingers; do they think that he can’t hear them? Can’t see them? Can’t feel what they are doing to them. His hand brushes against the cold handle again as he hears it start again. This time he doesn’t draw his hand away.

The day proceeds like any other. Calculus drags on for eternity, and Jeremy is fighting back tears. He can’t take it any more. The comments, the pushing, the taunting of all the people that think they are better than him. They have almost managed to make Jeremy believe that he is actually an inferior being; that he deserves this. He hates them. The anger surges deep inside, growing stronger every time he hears someone whisper ‘fag’ under their breaths, every time he’s pushed in the hallway, every time he sits alone. All the time, the anger is growing.

But, as he walks towards his locker between periods he sees her, like a small but bright light growing out of the descending blackness that surrounds him. Heather is like an angel sent from heaven to him. Beautiful, graceful, peaceful. But this angel was stolen by the epitome of Jeremy’s hell; a person that spent every moment of his life trying to make sure Jeremy’s life continued to be immersed in perpetual misery. Jeremy pauses in his steps, mesmerized by her beauty. She turns in his direction and a smile slowly blooms across her gorgeous lips. Jeremy’s heart stops and his own lips uncontrollably start to turn upwards in hesitant reply. For a moment, everything is perfect until the light is shattered and Jeremy is pitched forward. His books fly out of his hands and his glasses shatter as he lands hard on the ground.

‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there”. Hell has arrived. The laughing begins. Jeremy slowly pushes himself upwards, tears pooling beneath his eyes. He painfully gathers his books and his glasses, his face burning with humiliation, the anger growing ever stronger, ever closer. Somehow he gets up and begins to walk away. Hell’s laughter follows Jeremy down the hall.

‘What a loser.’ The words pierce his brain and his feet slow. His hand is in the jacket pocket. ‘What a loser’ the words echo in his head. Jeremy’s hand clenches around the metal, blood pulsing through his palm making it feel almost alive. ‘Yeah, no kidding’. It couldn’t be... it couldn’t be.. Heather? He stops. He has to make sure. And then he hears it. Laughter. Her laughter. Jeremy’s heart shatters and he is plunged into darkness. Before he can breath, before he can cry, before he can realize what he is doing the anger takes control. He has turned around and the anguish of eighteen tortured years is unleashed into the crowd.

©Caitlin B., Dec 3/02