Dakota stared at his reflection in the mirror in his bathroom. He
had black hair with long bangs, jade green eyes, and two black
lip rings. As he reached towards a silvery box, he felt a lump in
his throat. His lip quivered as he opened the box and took out
his eyeliner. Dakota leaned in towards the mirror on his wall,
opening his mouth and focusing on applying the eyeliner. After
he'd gotten it all on he stepped back to look at himself. He was
wearing a plain black shirt, black skinny jeans and striped
fingerless gloves. His nails were also painted black. Dakota
inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
"You made it through yesterday, you can make it through today,"
he told himself in a whisper, opening his eyes. Dakota was a
tortured soul. He had no friends and nearly everyone bullied him.
All he did was dress a little differently, and everyone thought
it was wrong that he wanted to be himself. They called him gay,
they called him a freak and they called him ugly. Everyday,
Dakota would suffer through this. He walked out of the bathroom
and back into his room. His walls were orange with black and
white clouds and his bed was dark blue. Dakota left his room and
trudged down their stairs.
"Mom, I'm leaving," Dakota called, knowing she was probably just
sitting on the couch in the living room drunk.
"Yeah, good riddance," he heard her murmur.
Yup, his mom was a drunkard and his dad, well.. he didn't know
who his dad was. His mom was raped at nineteen, and she was
thirty-five now. Dakota opened the front door and walked out into
the fresh autumn air. He began a slow walk towards school.
Opening the door to his locker, his eyes widened at the sound of
footsteps behind him. Dakota turned around to see Bradley, one of
the cruelest people he'd ever met. Two other guys flanked
Bradley, Seth and James.
Bradley sneered, "Why're you looking so scared, fag?"
Seth and James stood on either side of Bradley, backing Dakota
into his locker. Bradley slammed his hand into the locker next to
Dakota's and brought his face close to Dakota's, only a few
"I'm going to make you wish you were dead, got it?"
Bradley back up, raised a fist, and punched Dakota in the
stomach, hard. The boy fell to the floor, and vomited as he
clutched his stomach.
Bradley, Seth and James walked away laughing their heads off. A
girl who had just left the classroom nearest to Dakota's locker
dropped her books, staring in shock. She walked over to Dakota,
stepping over his vomit, and reached out her hand. He looked up,
eyes glistening, slowly, he took her hand and stood.
Dakota wiped his mouth, "Thanks.. uh......"
"My name's Mattie," she smiled sweetly.
"Thanks Mattie.." Dakota turned and walked down the hall.
He sat alone at lunch, like everyday, only picking at his food,
until Mattie came over and sat down with him.
"Are you okay?" she asked him.
Dakota tried to hide behind his bangs, "Why are you sitting with
Mattie had blue, almost violet, eyes flowing blonde hair and
beautiful olive skin that seemed to glow. She was too pretty to
sit with him, of all people.
She bit her lip, "You looked lonely. And.. sad."
He turned away, clenching his fists on the table, "Well I'm not."
"Oh, well then, I'm sorry if I bothered you," Mattie got up and
sat down at another table by herself. Dakota wondered why she
wasn't eating, but he decided it wasn't important. He couldn't
help noticing how thin she was though..
Breathing in sharply, he opened the door to his house and walked
in. Besides meeting Mattie in the morning and seeing her again at
lunch, nothing interesting had gone on. He walked upstairs and
into his room. Dakota turned, and took his laptop out of his
closet then went to sit on his bed. He opened up the screen and
typed in the web address for his blog into the little bar at the
top of Google Chrome. Dakota was an artist and a writer, so he
liked posting his art and his writings. Nervously, he checked his
messages. Sometimes he would get hate mail and insults.
"Let's see what's going to be here today..." he muttered. Two new
messages. Hopefully one of them would be positive for once.
You can't draw for shit. Why do you even try?
Okay, so it was true that he wasn't very good, but no one
Bro srsly, give this crap up!!! xDD
Nope. Nothing positive today. Nothing yesterday. Nothing a week
ago. Dakota clawed his face with his fingers and exhaled. He went
to Twitter. Of course, he had a tweet for him from Bradley.
"Why don't they just accept me?" he mouthed to himself, tears
filling his eyes.
You can't do anything you should just go and die.
Dakota closed the window and slammed his laptop shut, falling
back onto his pillow. He covered his face with his hands and
cried. The tears rolled down his cheeks. Dakota sat up quickly,
and roared, "WHY CAN'T THEY SHUT UP!??"
"Keep it down!" His mother yelled from downstairs.
He got off of his bed and walked over to his desk, opened the
droor, and pulled out an already bloodied razor. He could see
himself in the half broken mirror on his desk. His eyeliner had
been smeared all over his face. Dakota pulled off his shirt,
exposing his scarred chest and stomach. He touched his finger
tips to the mirror for a moment, then stepped back. Dragging the
razor across his body, he cried out in pain. He gripped his chest
feeling the sticky and warm torn skin. Dakota wiped the blood on
his mirror and put the razor down. He sat down in the chair at
his desk and hugged his knees. He felt like there was a hole in
his chest, and not just because of the cutting. He felt empty. He
felt lonely. Closing his eyes, he thought he'd rest for awhile,
then remembered his homework. I'll do it tomorrow. I'll just skip
school. He thought. It's not like Mom cares anyways.
Dakota grabbed his shirt and wrapped it around his chest,
covering the cut. He tied it in the back, then went back to his
bed. After putting his laptop on the floor, he layed down. As he
closed his eyes, he thought about Mattie again.. She was so
pretty....... but something seemed off. Slowly, he drifted off
into sleep, just wondering..
When Dakota woke up, he sat up. Then a second later, buried his
face in his pillow. Alive, alive.. Why am I still here!? Sighing,
he got up and untied his shirt, revealing his half healed wounds.
He walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Dakota took
his homework out of his backpack and put it on his desk then
grabbed a pencil and quickly scribbled down a few answers. He
reached into his backpack and pulled out his phone. A few times
Dakota had heard people talking about how hot Mattie was and
spreading her number around school. He'd heard it once and
remembered it. Quickly, he typed her number into his phone and
sent her a text.
Um, hey Mattie, culd u bring me 2day's hmwrk?
It took a few moments, but soon Mattie replied.
Sure.. Dakota? Why aren't you at school?
He paused, unsure of how to answer.
Okay, she said. Do you want me to, like, drop it off at your
house after school? Where do you even live? >.<
He told her his address, then decided to rest and let his wounds
heal. Homework? Dakota would put that off a little longer. He set
an alarm for when school ended, so he could wake up at the time
Dakota slept right up until Mattie rang his doorbell.
"Hey Mom, I'll get it!" He shouted, running down the stairs.
He opened the door, to see Mattie carrying her backpack with a
weak smile on her face. Strange, she looked thinner than she had
before. Her eyes widened as she noticed the cuts on his chest,
now turning into enormous scabs.
"Oh my god," she said, stepping in and closing the door. Mattie
dropped her backpack by the door.
"What happened? Is this why you weren't at school? Are you okay?"
Questions flowed out of her mouth one after another.
"It's.. I'm fine."
"What happened? Did you do this?"
Dakota looked down, "Can I have my homework?"
Mattie noticing his discomfort, bent over, unzipped her bag and
took out a stack of papers. She stood back up and handed him his
"Dakota, you know, you can tell me. Really.. I'd understand," she
looked at him hopefully.
He raised his head, so that his eyes met hers. Her eyes, her
beautiful, beautiful, sparkling eyes, "You don't know. You don't
know anything about this."
Dakota cut her off, "You should leave."
"Okay, um.. I'm sorry," she turned, picked up her bag, and left.