Happier

This has harsh language and hard themes, not for everyone.

When the morning comes

When we see what we've become

"You should never have been born." "B*****d." "Oh look, it's N****r Lips." Their insults ran through his head, like ping pong balls as they bounced back and forth. He frowned under the tree, shaking his head back and forth to try clear the dark thoughts crowding him. They'd be happier if you were gone. Recess just had started, but the little boy stayed away from the other kids, harsh words and worse would be all he got if he tried to get close, so he stopped trying. The words on the page blurred as he lost his place, causing him to flick back to the beginning of the paragraph to try again. The sun warm on his skin as clouds drifted by, a breeze causing the honeysuckles around him to shake, pretty lights of color among the green.

WE FOUND HIM! A shrill cry caught the boy's eyes, causing him to snap up at the girls with harsh sneers across their faces, his breath catching. HE'S OVER HERE. The boy berated himself in his head for not hiding better, getting up quickly and holding his book protectively as he prepared to run, looking for where the pack of boys would be coming this time. He saw them, running so hard dust was kicking up behind them, more kids then normal. He pivoted and ran, ran as fast as his legs would let him, darting behind the old equipment and and bushes at the huge play ground's edge, before hooking around to the portable classrooms the school had set up for the third graders. He ducked around the stairs that lead up to his class, before throwing himself into the crook made by the ramp leading up the other side.

In the cold light of day, we're a flame in the wind

Not the fire that we've begun

He pressed close to the rough wood, trying to make himself as small as possible as he tried not to breathe, his hands covering his mouth as he prayed. "Don't let them find me, don't let them find me." He heard them thunder past, calls of where did he go, where is he echoing back to him as they kept running. HE SHOULD JUST DIE! The boy let his head lean against the wood as he tried to catch his breath. See, they'd be happier, and the teacher would too... and your family.

He shook his head again, before trying to think. "Well, i can't go out there, they'll keep looking until they find me, or recess ends... I'll just hide in the classroom, i don't care if i'll get in trouble." The boy slowly pushed open the door, looking around, seeing if the teacher was in. He wasn't, so the boy went to his desk, trying to rub off the rude things written in pencil, and open his book again. His eyes caught the something bright by the teachers desk. He packed up his book, nice and neat, before going over to look.

The light had reflected the edge of the construction paper cutter, the boy thought as he reached up and played with the handle. He had often thought about what if it was his neck there instead of the paper, when it was used before. There was way too many safeguards in place for that, but as the boy turned, he noticed the scissors next to it. Big and sharp, sharp enough to cut the paper without even having to snip! He had seen the teacher use them before, but he always put them up and locked them away. His finger reached out, going over the tip of the blade, blood seeping out before the boy pulled his finger into his mouth, trying to suck away the pain. You could use that... you could leave and everyone could be happy. Don't you want that? You don't hate them, you just always wanted to make them happy. The boy reached out, his fingers wrapping around the handles. He put old papers underneath him, not wanting to leave to much of a mess...

 

Every argument, every word we can't take back
'Cause with all that has happened
I think that we both know the way that this story ends

The scissors were heavy in his hands. The handles much too big, as the blades caught the light. He opened them up wide, placing them against his throat. The sharp edge bit into his skin, and a small trickle of blood started seeping out. "You can do this Al. Soldiers die all the time. Granddaddy was a soldier. You can be one too right? You can be brave like him. You have to be brave!" He pressed the ends a little closer together, the blade biting more. Tears slipped down his face, the stinging starting as he took in a deep breath.

Then only for a minute
I want to change my mind
'Cause this just don't feel right to me

STOP

A voice, not of his nor anyone else's he ever met rung out. It filled the room, bringing warmth and a warm shine like the sun. as it re-vibrated through the boy's body. He feel to his knees, the foul object falling from his hands as started to sob uncontrollably. His hands wrapped over his cut, as if feeling it was still there, while blood went past his fingers. He almost screamed at the thought of what he nearly did, lying there on the floor. He lost track of time, laying there and crying, before hearing the warning bell ring, signaling 5 minutes was left til people were in classes. He gathered himself up, putting things back where they belonged and cleaning the scissors on his collar, not wanting to leave evidence of what happened, before slowly walking over to the nurses office, sneaking behind the distracted teachers. He walked up to the nurse and she gasped as she treated his cut, asking what happened. He said he got it from scraping against a tree, and the nurse gave him a look, pursing her lips. Eventually, after she was done, she gave him a note to go back to class. As the boy walked back, he looked up into that cloudy sky, the echos of that great voice echoing in his head.

I wanna raise your spirits

I want to see you smile but
Know that means I'll have to leave