Chapter Text
Stiles’ head felt numb, the taste of iron lingered on his lips even long after the blood had washed away. The sound of dripping water echoed through the boys’ lavatory. He stood crouched over the sink, allowing a single finger to run across his jaw. His right hand reached out and turned off the water, leaving only silence in its wake. He raised his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror, massive black rings around his eyes. Again, another scar adorned his face. What is Dad going to say? Stiles sighed heavily; searing pain ran through his mouth as his breath glided across the freshly cut skin. He would most likely yell at him – he didn’t like it when Stiles got into fights. To be honest, he didn’t like it himself either. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed hurting other people, and he even avoided situations that could result in conflicts. But there was only so much a person could take! It wasn’t his fault; he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Why are they always picking on me? Why am I so different from everyone else?
It had been more or less the same thing at his previous school; he wasn’t well liked or popular back there either. He should have been used to it by now.
However, there was limits to how much abuse he could take before he had to fight back. And whenever he had had enough of people bullying and hating him for no apparent reason, he’d get yelled at for fighting back. Just ignore them, his father would tell him. They don’t know the real you – if you just try a little harder.
FUCK IT ALL! Nobody ever wanted to get to know him – it didn’t matter how hard he tried. Stiles would always be the outsider; he just didn’t fit into their world.
He sluggishly picked his backpack off the floor and dragged his feet towards the door; he needed to get on with the day so he could get out of there. Besides, he couldn’t stay in the bathroom all day; he was going to get into enough trouble for being late.
It seemed like it took forever to get to the classroom, and just as anticipated the teacher gave him a hard time about him being tardy.
“Have you been in a fight?” His teacher gave him a stern look while he examined Stiles’ face; he clearly noticed the fresh injuries.
Stiles raised an eyebrow, surprised that the teacher even bothered to fake an interest at all. “No, sir. I just accidently hurt myself, nothing to worry about.” He glanced over at Kevin (JERKFACE) Johnson who had a big grin on his face. Obviously, he would find it amusing since it hadn’t been more than twenty minutes ago he and two other boys had kicked the living shit out of him outside.
“Get your ass to your seat, Stilinski. I won’t tolerate any more interruptions from you today.”
Stiles sat himself down and did his best to avoid Kevin’s gaze for the duration of the class. It didn’t work as well as he had wanted it to; his eyes drifted and found themselves staring back at Kevin ever so often. He could clearly see what he was trying to tell him; it was so obvious a message. I’ll fucking kill you if you say anything to anyone about what happened. What good would that do me? He wasn’t going to tell anyone; it wouldn’t change anything. The teacher didn’t care. And somehow he always ended up getting yelled at even if he was the victim. So what was the point of telling? Nobody believed that people just hated him for no reason, that they just attacked him for being different. He must have done something to piss them off, to make them hurt him. He couldn’t just be innocent.
Nevertheless, Stiles hadn’t done anything. He always kept to himself; he never bothered anyone, all he just wanted was to be left alone. FUCK! He tried to ignore it all. He just had to endure a little longer before he could get out of there and lock himself in his room where no one would bother him.
The ringing of the bell shocked him out of his haze and forced him to get moving. He quickly got up and sprinted past the other students on their way out. He could almost taste the freedom as he walked towards the exit as fast as his legs would carry him. He made sure to keep close to groups of other students as he made his way to the parking lot. Not too close, but walking alone could be dangerous. He didn’t want to risk getting cornered by Kevin or his stupid friends; he’d had enough of those guys to last a lifetime.
He escaped the hellhole called school without further confrontations that day.
It was an uneventful ride home to say the least; as usual, he hid away at the back of the bus. His red hoody obscured his form, hiding his face slightly as he watched the rest of the people on the bus. Soon the bus stopped and he got out without so much as a glance from anyone else – why would someone even notice that he was alive?
A couple of minutes later, he found himself slamming his front door behind him as he entered his house. His dad would still be at work for some hours to come. Stiles was all alone, finally. He discarded his shoes in the hallway and climbed the stairs to get to his room. Throwing his backpack to the side, he collapsed on his bed and sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to enjoy the silence for as long as he could, but his mind kept racing and thinking of troubles yet to come. His father would be home at some point; he would yell at him for getting into another fight. His heartbeat increased as he thought about it. Tomorrow was another school day – was there a chance he could avoid Kevin and his goons for an entire day?
Probably not.
His right hand glided across his face, his index finger examined his cracked lower lip. What am I going to tell dad? He exhaled loudly and tried to force himself to relax while he could. His body felt heavy; imageries of random thoughts and feelings danced across the inside of his eyelids as he gave himself over to his desire to rest.