Flowers littered the grass. A sweet tune echoed through the air, giving it an eerie vibe. The dark brown hair of the owner flowed slightly. Countless tries of getting out failed. As the sky turned darker each minute as the walls that weren't there moved in. A black tar like substance leaked from everywhere, flooding the area Connor was in. Soon it was up to his waist. He knew he was going to die, but he didn't move. When he did, it just rose faster, so he stayed still, letting death come upon him.

Connor opened his eyes, to see his ceiling. He didn't usually sleep more then five hours, but when he did he had long nightmare, as some may call it. He glanced at the clock that lay on his bedside table. His room was painted black, or most of it. His dad got mad at him, so he only got three and a half of his walls done. He still had the six year old glow stars on his ceiling, he only got four down, and gave up on the rest. so they were there.
Zoe knocked on his door harshly, saying something about her leaving in fifteen minutes. So he got up and changed, leaving his sweater on. He grabbed a book he had, the outside was black, and it was a hard cover book. It was about two people, both trying to commit suicide, then they meet at a group session with a therapist, who recommended the two kids to meet.
Connor liked it, because he could slightly relate to it. He grabbed his bad, and walked out of his room, locking it before going downstairs and into their car. Zoe and Connor shared a car, since their dad didn't trust Connor driving alone.

When they got to the school, Connor had run off to find his locker. He [knew] exactly where it was. When he got to it, it was spray painted. It said 'Fag'. this happened a lot. Stains from previous weeks said stuff like 'Go to hell', 'die', and Connors favorite. 'Gay'.
Once he got to class he sat in his normal seat, in the back. Soon the class started filling with kids.
Most coming in with at least one friend with them. The fading memory of his nightmare from the morning still lingered in his head, he felt like he was drowning in tar. Ha got up and ran out of the class, a hand over his mouth; feeling like he was going to vomit.
When he got into the boys washroom he ran into an empty stall and started puking. Some other person was just having a panic attack when he ran it. They both were able to co exist with each other.
They soon started talking, as if they were good friends meeting after a year. They learned a bit about each other. They both knew that they would forget each other, but it was fun in the moment. They decided not to tell each other their names. So now they were not friends.

Connor ended up giving the boy his number, for reasons he himself did not know. They agreed to stay as less then friends, but still talk. It was okay, for Connor. He didn't have any friends, and he wanted to keep it that way. He felt as safe as anyone would in high school. It was weird to him, since in high school, no one's safe. It was very amusing to see that he felt safe, where he was. Where was he though?

Right here.