Kissing the Concrete

There were three places in high school were you could almost be certain that you would find me outside of class; the cafeteria during lunch, the library when studying and in one of the stalls in the bathroom on the third floor anytime else. The third floor was generally quite deserted area, the only classes that ever transpired there were art classes, two days a week. Other days, no one was there except for me or possibly couples looking for some private time. Therefore, whenever I felt like breaking down and crying, I had a place to go without being heard. That is what I was doing today.

The usually clean floor was stained by the mud falling of my sneakers. The sound of my tears falling and my constant sobbing echoed throughout the bathroom. My head was resting towards the wall of the stall, the one wall in the entire school that was clean from graffitti. I was so done with being me.

Andy and his gang had approached me by lunch, stealing the books I needed for class and called me a slut, whore etc. Now I didn't have my study books, nor did I have my dignity left. So I felt no reason to go to class. That's right, I was skipping class for the first time in my life.

I looked in my pocket and found nothing but a safety pin, my phone and a pair of black earbuds. I wish I had a pencil and paper, so that I could draw or write. It always used to calm me down. This was just unsettling.

The door opened and I stopped breathing, quickly locking the stall and jumping up from the floor onto the shut toilet so that no one would notice me. I hoped that the person who entered would be a friend, maybe Nix or anyone from my english class. Instead, it was the last person I was hoping would find me.

"Iris?" He said, his voice cracking slightly. He sounded calm and concerned, but I knew at this point that he was a great actor.

I stayed silent. Hell no, I didn't want this.

I heard the noise of his black shoes hitting the floor as he slowly walked closer and closer to the stall I was in. I was trapped, and I was certain that I would be beaten up or harrassed if he got a hold of me.

He opened every stall door until he reached mine. When he realized it was locked, he started trying to jerk it open.

"Could you please just leave? Please just go Andy." I said, tears in my voice.

"So you ARE here? I've been looking for you." He responded, surprisingly in a non-aggressive tone.

"Why? So you can torture me with your words? So you can beat me?"

"Why would I beat you? I hate seeing you cry!"

I was shocked by his words.

"You know what?" I said, angrily. "I call bullshit on that."

"Wow." He sounded surprised. "Never thought you'd use that word."

"If you truly hated seeing me cry, then why would you cause me all this pain? Why would you make me cry every single day, causing me to fight the urge to harm myself?"

"You harm yourself?"

"Sometimes I want to. I always fight it. I've cried so much my tears could create a lake and...and..." I punched the wall with both my fists in anger with my back against the door as I slowly sit down on the floor again and burst into tears. "I just don't want anything to do with you. I wish you had never entered my life."

"I wish I had never let you down."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Yeez, what's with the swearing?"

I gave up on talking with him and sat silent for a while, feeling the warm flood of salty tears streaming down my face.

"Hey Iris, listen. Obviously you take whatever little stupid thing I say to your heart, but for once I am going to be entirely truthful with you, okay?"

I kept crying but I had no choice but to listen.

"I've not always seen you as a fragile soul. I just thought you were stupid. And I needed someone to take out my anger on. I needed someone I could put down, and I thought you were strong enough to build up yourself. Turns out I was wrong."

Oh great. He's insulting me again.

"You might not realize it, but you are perfect. You're beautiful, you are always kind. But you have a fragile soul, which makes you really easy to pick on. It is so hard to find something legitimate to actually see as an imperfection in you, that I started spreading false rumours about you. I called you a whore for being nice to a lot of boys that you meet, when infact, I know you only were friends. I decided that picking on you was the only way I could get to know you. It was the only way to get you to become enough of an outcast to actually talk to the outcasts."

They're probably waiting to beat me up outside. He's acting. ACTING.

I stopped crying and just got mad. Trying to manipulate me. Stupid kid.

"Fuck off."

"Ouwch. Well, I'm not leaving. If you want your books back I have them here."

My study books were given to me via the small crack underneat the door of the bathroom stall. I was silent. So was he. I put on my earbuds and turned up the music, staring at the ceiling, slowly drifting away into an almost comatose state. I just got lost in the music.

"You know what, this is ridiculous." I heard from the other side of the wall after about 30 minutes of silence had passed. I heard Andy stepping into the stall next to me and climbing up on the toilet, eventually getting into the stall. I stood up, pressed against the wall, tears once again escaping my eyes.

"Don't...don't touch me! Please!" I cried out, almost screaming.

I got down on the floor, my knees pulled into my chest. He did the same.

"Please Iris, calm down. I won't hurt you. Trust me."

He scooted over so that he sat next to me and threw his arm over my shoulders. Maybe this guy wasn't the worst after all.

Notes

So yeah, lots of stuff happening here.

I've updated this story 4 times in the past 24 hours! I must be keen on writing this!

Oh well, I don't really know what I think of this chapter. So far I've gotten two comments and both were positive. Yay!