We Had To Make Some Heads Turn, We Had To Put This To You

Today had not started off to be the most successful of days; I'd over slept by nearly an hour, and arriving to school late, despite have practically sprinted through the gates and far too many sets of double doors in painfully empty corridors, I still found myself with a late mark that could possibly add up to a detention of some teacher felt cruel enough, and considering what had happened with Vic storming off just yesterday, I wasn't sure that he'd be awfully keen to bust me out of yet another detention unnecessarily, but you never know; all I had to do was hope. But hoping in such a cruel and messed up world as this could truly be a sign of insanity.

There was also, of course the matter that I still had to walk into whatever class I had currently, and not just a five minutes late, but I'd have to walk in almost half-way through it. It was most certainly not a pleasant experience to have thirty sets of judgemental eyes upon you as you stumbled towards your seat in a desperate attempt to not draw attention to the fact that you'd majorly fucked up with your sleeping schedule this morning.

Then of course I'd end up pole-vaulting over a chair or some shit like that accidentally and some poor sod would have to cart me down to the school nurse who'd just put a wet paper towel on it and then assume I'll be fine, because healthcare is obviously at it's prime in shitty high schools full of people trying to care less than the dude next to them.

"Ah, Mr Quinn, late are we?" Somehow, Mr Chins had managed to waltz his way into the registration office, still wearing P.E. shorts and polo top that looks like it was made in the 70s. His top lip turned up into a snarl as he surveyed my ragdoll like appearance; waking up as late as I did, did not give you and awful lot of time to successfully present yourself to the world.

"Yes, sir." I made an extra effort to not be anything but exceptionally polite towards him, because I think he'd made no hesitance in killing me otherwise. Mr Chins did look awfully like the murdering type and I really do think that it should be concerning me an awful lot more than it currently is, but then again, I do seem to have much more pressing matters on my mind, pressing matters involving a certain Vic Fuentes, perhaps.

He scoffed, his eyes rolling back into their sockets, in a creepy and somewhat demonic way, which made me wonder if I should begin making a habit of bringing a flask of holy water to school now, or would that just be little on the extreme side?

"Just be glad you got your little boyfriend to get you out of my class, because otherwise I doubt you would have even woken up today." He snarled at me, and fuck- I began to question if he could even say that. I assumed not, but I doubted that legality was hardly one of his priorities. Mr Chins and legality had a relationship comparable to mine and Vic's, which did turn out awfully ironically now didn't it?

"He-He's not my b-boyfriend-" Mr Chins just glared at me, as if I'd been the one to pass an utterly inappropriate and untrue remark. But Vic was most definitely not my boyfriend, and maybe not even or barely my friend, and even to think of being in love with, him being thought of being in love with him was just weird. It wasn't disturbing, or creepy, I don't think, I think it's just weird, odd maybe. Unusual, maybe? I think it's just that I never even thought that a thought like this could possibly occur within the frames of reality.

"I've heard what they all say about you and your little fag boyfriend, Quinn." Fuck. What? What? What were they all saying about me, what the hell? What was going on? What? "That Jenny girl, I've heard it all from her and her boyfriend." Wait what? Nothing made any sense? If Vic was Jenny's boyfriend- then wait, what was happening? Had she gotten a new one just so quickly? Fuck, who was it? Fuck... but I don't know. Nothing adds up any more and my head feels like it's ready to fall off.

I bet Vic was scheming this all- nothing made sense, nothing at all. Vic was just so confusing; one day he could be my best friend, and one day my worst enemy, but most days lay somewhere awkwardly and really uncomfortably in-between, but I think that just added to the crazy after all.

He was just using me, and Jenny was using me, this was nothing but a ploy for popularity. Or was it? Because Vic didn't seem to care- maybe he cared about nothing, maybe he didn't even slightly care about me. And I cared about him too much, I cared about the stupid brown eyes and the stupid smiles and the ice-cream, and maybe ideas weren't so absurd after all, and maybe he was good. Maybe he was weird and odd, but maybe weird and odd and just a little creepy, was good, but I... I didn't deserve anything at all, not even creepy, not even the nothingness of void.

I was nothing; I was no one, even to him. Alone and waiting for my friends to come home to me again - I'd been too late to have them with me today, and I think that was the decision I had come to regret the most. And here I was, hopeless and hoping - a true mess.

I wasn't even worthy of the name Kell-

-

"-in Quinn!" My head banged against the desk, and I quickly regained my consciousness finding myself eye to eye with my practically fuming Geography teacher, Miss Kaladel. She wasn't exactly the brightest of sparks, but somehow her spark had brightened just enough to distinguish between a sleeping student and an awake one.

"Sleeping in class, are we?" She snapped at me, gaining a quite a few giggles from my rather ignorant classmates. And it suddenly all came back to me: the dream, the madness, the odd, and the weird, and the thoughts that didn't make sense at all - the thoughts I think I'd rather forget, but of course now, those thoughts were now eternally imprinted into my memory and they only way to get rid of them would be to physically tear my brain matter apart...

"I didn't get any sleep last night-" I began, and soon remembered dozing off as soon as I filtered into Geography, letting my head fall back against the wall as her monotone voice droned on. She should be apologising to me, especially for the contents of my dream that she'd caused- okay, maybe that didn't sound a little on the pretentious side, but I really didn't care all that much, because my head was already in irrationality mode and I don't think anything registered in the sanity department anymore.

I think there was just a part of me that was still wishing that I was dreaming, possibly even wishing that my whole life was simply a dream, in fact.

"Well then, maybe a detention will encourage you to fix that - sleep is essential for a healthy and well rounded education." So are competent teachers, I assume, but I guess the school must be cutting costs in that department now, or Miss Kaladel was just very good at faking college degrees. She glared at me, almost as if I was poisonous, thrusting a detention letter in my direction- fuck.

This certainly wasn't a good start to the day, and only when I came to recollect as to just exactly what I'd been dreaming about did it get worse. Because the details were always more painful than the confusion, despite what my fucked up head could possibly manage to concoct.

I'd dreamed of being late, Mr Chins, and certain rumours involving homosexuality. Fuck. Homosexuality. It was something weird to think about, especially when it applied to me. I didn't think I was gay, but I didn't know - nothing made sense anymore, but it didn't matter, did it? Because it wasn't as if Vic fucking Fuentes actually cared about me in any way, shape, or form whatsoever.

My dream, however, did in no way fix the incident from yesterday involving Vic Fuentes, which was just as real in the dream world, as it apparently was in real life. Vic was a horribly confusing subject; one that made my skin crawl in concern, and one that made my heart beat like hell.

-

I should have rejoiced as the bell rung, but the bell didn't just signify the end of this lesson, it signified the start of the next, (yes, I know that was rather blatantly obvious) the problem, however, was that my lesson was, or should have been P.E. with my favourite teacher, who now apparently had a habit of appearing in slightly messed up dreams of mine, but no, instead, now I had to go to the library and I had to see Vic again, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Vic was confusing; Vic was nauseating, in fact. I think this was simply because there was no one in this whole fucked up universe quite like Vic Fuentes, which made everything just difficult, everything impossible. I'd spent my whole life learning how to avoid people, how to protect myself from them. I'd learn their ways, their tricks and I knew not to trust them- but, but... then, life decided things quite weren't so easy, and threw Vic Fuentes in my direction.

Vic wasn't like anyone else, not at all, not really. He was just dressed up in their skin, and on the inside he was something different entirely, I just hadn't quite figured out if it was good different or bad different yet, because most of the time, it was just somewhere in-between.

As I stepped in through the library door, I felt his gaze upon mine instantly and was just waiting for the tidal wave of insults to be thrown upon me imminently. Vic's gaze was different, Vic was just confusing, intriguing and concerning all at once, and his gaze, those big brown eyes, did a wonderful job at reflecting that entirely.

"Hello, Kellin." I turned around, and found myself met with none other than the all-time favourite Vic Fuentes. His words were devoid of emotion; his eyes held it all. He looked me up and down with those eyes, emotions whirring out of them like a waterfall. I just found myself watching him for far too long before I could possibly manage to respond, because Vic was just interesting as well as confusing.

"Hello, Vic." I responded in as civil manner I could muster, the emotions within me settling not quite as easily as they did within Vic, because I was nowhere near as composed as him, nowhere near as perfected in the art of being distanced, perfect, masked and not quite human. My emotions were messed clustered and everywhere - the dream hadn't helped at all.

I soon found myself blushing violently, deciding it best to avoid people as flawless as Vic Fuentes and busy myself with hurrying off to go mindlessly tidy some books in the other end of the library, but Vic caught me by the shoulder, pulling me back to him with a stern look in his eye. The emotions still didn't settle - the emotions only exploded; he was the detonator. He was my detonator and I think he always had been.

"Are you okay, Kellin?" I sent him a strange look; he was the one that walked off and now he was asking if I was okay? Vic was just fucking mental, to be honest. His ability to find it appropriate to pretend that he cared in situations like this was just beyond unexplainable to me, because Vic didn't care and he wasn't going to convince me otherwise.

"No." I answered truthfully, attempting to pull away from his grasp as desperately as I could, but he was awfully reluctant to let me succeed, because I wasn't okay and I think he more than knew that he'd made sure of that, his arrogant mind just wouldn't quite let him admit that of course, because that's how brains worked - selfish, arrogant and irrationality. The brain was the bane of the body and the necessity at the same time. We're poorly constructed, almost designed for insanity and failure, and of course we're to blame when it all goes wrong.

"Kellin-" He tried to break through my shell once again, but he wouldn't - Vic was constant reminder as to why this shell was there in the first place. Because he was dangerous- no, the definition of danger entirely, because he knew how to break shells and he knew my secrets. Sometimes it felt like Vic was designed perfectly to aid in my destruction, but sometimes it just felt like he was designed for me.

"Fuck off!" I snapped, just maybe a little bit too loudly and found myself finally able to successfully pull away and find something at the other end of the library to menially fiddle with. But getting away from Vic was nothing, because he would follow me, I know it, mainly because I didn't want him to and that would automatically mean he had to, because that's how Vic Fuentes worked - against me.

-

The shelves were all too perfected to be fiddled obsessively with for more than a couple of minutes at a time, and I was slowly edging just far too close to Vic for my liking, and the glances he insisted on giving me every minute certainly didn't help at all. His eyes hurt, because it was all always in those eyes of his, his eyes were practically screaming at me from across the room, and it was beginning to make an unwanted impact upon my eardrums.

"Hey, uhh, I overheard you and Vic, I was just wondering if you were alright." I gingerly pealed my gaze upwards to see myself faced with lisp girl who'd smuggled me coffee in previously. I was reluctant to even say anything to her at first, but I decided that if she was nice enough to respect my need for caffeine and even break the rules slightly to ensure I got my fix, then she was just fine in my books, but then again, it wasn't as if I was the best judge of character, was it?

"Yeah, I'm okay... I just, shit happens, y'know." She nodded; leaning against the bookcases I'd previously adjusted and watched as I relentlessly adjusted them continuously. "We just don't get along sometimes- well a lot of the time actually... ugh... I just- It doesn't matter: it's okay," I looked back up at her with my emotionally clustered eyes, "don't worry, okay?" She raised her eyebrows, but let me continue in silence for the next few minutes.

"I'm Christa." She said into the prolonged silence. An introduction was good, because all it required was a name, and my name thankfully didn't involve Vic Fuentes.

"I'm Kellin, if you hadn't picked that up already." She chuckled slightly as she clearly had picked it up from all the arguing that had occurred previously. It was weird to think that she wasn't just my coffee smuggler, or the girl with the lisp anymore, she was Christa. It was awfully more polite to actually call her by her name, but it just seemed weird. Maybe I was too accustomed to impoliteness and oddity.

"You sure things are okay between you two? I mean, Vic can be a little stuck up, but he usually means for the best." I nodded as she talked, pretending I cared about forgiving Vic just a little, maybe just to make her happy, because she was nice - she deserved to be happy, I didn't. "Can I ask exactly what happened between you two... or?"

I shrugged, "he just walked of and then has the nerve to ask what's going on with me-" I ran out of air; fuck. "He just doesn't make any sense whatsoever, and he seems to think that we can be friends, like for shit that's going to work-" The words just came tumbling out all at once without a single regard for warning or context.

"Why wouldn't it work?" She met me with inquisitive eyes. She just didn't quite get it, but then again, I couldn't blame her, because no one really did. I was just an anomaly, rather like Vic, but nowhere near. We were just two different shards of glass that shattered from two entirely different vases and had somehow ended up in same pile as everyone else. "Kellin, everything can work if you try-"

I snorted a little, cutting off her words in a rather impolite manner. But really, she was just speaking comforting bullshit, and I should have expected better from my loyal little coffee smuggler, because initially I thought she was okay, but now, I'm not so sure. "He's the head boy and I'm a royal mess. I hate him. I'm a fuck up, and he's perfect with the perfect life and just the perfect everything..." I was beginning to sound like a Taylor Swift song, but I didn't exactly mind- okay, maybe I did, but whatever, I haven't dated Harry Styles yet so I'm still good.

"I'm sure you're not a fuck up, Kellin." She looked at me through composed, stern and sincere eyes. But they were eyes that felt like they were lying, because I was a fuck up, and she knew that deep inside as did we all.

"Thank you, but I really am." I sighed, letting my eyes drift off to nowhere in particular, and then letting everything else suddenly flow out. "He thinks everything's fine, and just because I'm not fine he has to make sure we're friends to fix it, as if that'd help- Hell, I don't even want to be friends with someone like him- shit..."

"What the-" I followed her gaze down to my exposed arm, my hoodie sleeve had been subconsciously pulled up as I spoke and I didn't even need to question what she was looking at, and I even as I pulled the sleeve down, I had a clear picture of what was underneath, because the thousands of red little lines all parallel but not quite, never did seem to leave my head. They haunted me day and night, forever and always, because my skin was scar tissue and my head was about to cave in.

"Fuck-" The word tumbled out between my lips, not quite daring to look her in the eyes again and just waiting for the impact that'd surely come, because I'd really fucked things up now, as I seemed to have developed an awful habit of doing so.

"You did that to yourself." I just nodded; it wasn't a question, it was a statement. She knew, and far too well at that. "You're fucking sick." That really wasn't the response I was expecting - I was expecting some sympathy at least, because the girl with the lisp was nice... or at least I thought so. But I guess I was wrong, as I always seem to be.

Fuck, I didn't quite expect that reaction from someone so innocent, and someone as kind as Christa. The lisp girl had been about the only person to show me kindness, but of course, life wouldn't quite let things stay that way. I was the problem here - she didn't need fixing, I did. I just was far too stubborn to fix myself, because the problem just wouldn't resolve itself, and that meant further action was to be taken.

I just couldn't take it anymore; I left, I stormed out and I was glad no one came after me, not even Vic Fuentes, because now I truly knew I was replaceable and that nothing could prove my logic wrong, because he cared about nothing and especially not about me.

-TRIGGER WARNING-

Tonight, I did honestly feel like dying, but it was all too sudden, all at once and with a lack of planning or preparation. I need to plan my demise perfectly; I needed to provide adequate entertainment for every sod involved.

I hadn't a note, or the equipment to successfully perform the deed. I needed preparation, I needed a date, and I needed to get rid of Vic Fuentes. Vic wanted to win, he wanted to win me, and I was no good to him dead - that was all this was.

But, for now, I think I was just content with the opening of the draw and the feeling of metal, far too cold in a hand shaking and sweating in panic, because no matter how many times I did this, it was never quite simple. My friends made sure of that for me; they liked their entertainment, but as did I. As humans we all did.

It was always a new adventure, a new thing to try, because the blade was different every single time. But the skin wasn't nearly as fresh anymore; I was a walking heap of scar tissue that had accidentally gained sentience. I needed to destroy that entirely, because it wasn't right, I wasn't right. I was a mess, an accident, a problem to be fixed.

I was set out to fix that however, and my friends were going to help me, because tonight was the night when things would get awfully exciting.

The red came all too quickly and all at once this time. A gushing gorge ran down my arm, trickling over the road bumps of recent meetings with my friends. It stopped at my wrists, the red sinking down into the sheets and staining them a vibrant colour that I dreaded thinking about washing out. Maybe I won't.

But I did it again.

It was easier this time; more natural and more fun. There was already an adrenaline build up, which made it just a hell of a lot less painful, and the amount of blood flowing to my head made everything just a little dizzy, which in turn pushed the complicated thoughts away.

The complicated thoughts told me to stop.

They were complicated because they were both right and wrong at the same time and if that didn't already push my blood deprived frame into a state of nausea then I didn't know what did. Perhaps it was my lunch, or lack thereof.

But I made my third slash, deeper and redder this time; determined and ready to will the complicated thoughts away with a stern decision to how this night would end.

A buzz filled the room, my phone screening lighting up and despite the state my arm was in, my instinct was to check it.

Kellin, are you ok? Im sorry. Vic x

How he'd gotten my number. I didn't understand. The fact that he expected me to reply however, just made me laugh, and my friend got too close to my skin again and eagerly continued, because four slashes was always a good number, but never just quite enough.

The red ran everywhere and I then found the nerve to clean it away. I liked cleanliness, I liked a perfect environment to highlight my imperfections - it made them easier to strike down.

The bathroom was cold, even colder without clothes; the warm water would remedy it, but even I didn't deserve that, so I turned it on as cold as it would go. I was the Titanic and the icy water became my iceberg. And then there was Vic and Jenny - he let her go and escape, but he was dragged down with me.

I stood there shivering and hating myself, letting the slashes sting as the icy water washed them away.

It was washed all away, and soon enough it felt just like the others; lines on my skin.

Not quite real and barely there.

I needed my friends again, but they were far too tired to come out and play again, so I waited until morning, I stayed up until sunrise, a rerun of yesterday, because I didn't care, I was just waiting to die.

Hey guys:) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, some votes and comments would be hella appreciated;) Love you all<3