The old suburban neighborhood was so normal; nothing unusual ever happened here. All the neighbors new enough about each other, and kept to themselves unless engaging in the ladies weekly gossip. Where they would sit on Ms. White’s front lawn and talk about whatever they heard downtown, laughing at the misfortunes of others. With the shade of the orange tree above them they had absolutely no-care in the world. They never noticed him sitting at the window listening to every word they said with a boiling anger of fury brewing in his chest. Sometimes they spoke of him and his “abnormalities” but they never could remember his name. Making him feel unimportant, or like he barely existed. It made him sick.
Late that afternoon as he was walking home from school there they were. On the front lawn again; watching him with their noses turned up. Ms. Lily, a young lady who just moved to town from down south watched him too. His cheeks turned red, because he quite liked Ms. Lily with her bouncy golden curls and rosy cheeks. As he walked under their hawk like gaze, he decided he would smile. As he looked up to lock his gaze with hers he saw her whispering something to the other girls while looking at me. Then they all began hooting with laughter. Not a lady like one either, it was the type that made people double over holding their stomachs tightly. The one the brought tears and made peoples faces turn red. They were laughing at him.
He began to walk faster with his head down completely embarrassed. He kept walking until their voices faded behind him. When he got home he went straight to his room and closed the door before his mother could start pestering him with questions. He lied on his bed thinking of all the terrible things he could do to them and didn’t care that he was wrong. That he shouldn’t think of hurting others but he was so enveloped in his rage that he was oblivious to all reason and sanity.
He had to relax and stop the terrible thoughts. He began to count the rhythm of his heavy breathing, and wrap himself around his blanket. He could hear their voices all the way to his room. Their malicious whispers echoing off the wall as they spoke of him, breaking him down bit by bit. As his brain took in the words it began rewiring it making their voices painful. Their harmful words painted themselves onto the walls, leaving him with the harsh reality that is his life. He ripped of the covers tearing his room apart trying to get the paint off the walls. He began to get angry, because the words wouldn’t come off. He tore everything in sight going on a thunderous rampage that could not be stopped.
His mother ran into the room and screamed “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING????!!!!!”
When everything was destroyed he stopped to look at the damage, finally out of the daze. He realized there was no paint on the walls and no-one had been saying anything. The ladies were no longer out side and nothing had happened