Chapter 2: The Boy in the White Uniform
The boy looked like a regular 17 year old high schooler. His hands were placed in his pockets. He wore a pair of blue trousers and a white shirt- a school uniform. Those things that kids used to wear 200 years ago. He had long, disheveled black hair and blue eyes.
The boy looked at Ethan. His sharp eyes seemed to drill into Ethan's very essence. "Who.... who are you," he trembled . The boy continued to stare at him as if he hadn't heard the question. He stuck out his arm. "Take it," he said plainly. Ethan shuddered. The voice coming out of the boy's mouth sounded exactly like his.
Ethan slowly grasped the boy's palm....and immediately screamed. "What did you do to me?" he screeched. He clutched his head in pain. A bolt of pain shot through his forehead every second. The periodic throbbing was like the beating of a drum. Boom....boom...boom!
Ethan fell to the ground. Boom....boom....boom. His head still pained. He squirmed, as he moved his body in whatever way he could in an attempt to free himself. Fragmented images flashed in front of his eyes, all of which were foreign to him. "Aaaaaaaah". He screamed, as his vision started to cloud.
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The boy stared at the kids around him. He was sitting in a large white classroom. There was a small podium ahead, underneath a shiny whiteboard. He stared at these surroundings, just like he did every single day. "Hey, did you watch the latest episode of One Cake?" "Yeah, it was so cool! Especially when Lucky finally awakened and beat Candle in one punch!"
The boy could hear kids talking every single thing in the world. Ring...ring...ring! Everybody scrambled to their seats. "Good morning, class," said a teacher. "Today we are going to....." The teacher's voice droned on as the boy stared at the other children.
Observing- that was all the boy had done ever since he had gone to school. He never understood the point of making friends and socialising. It seemed like a pain. Everybody was wearing a mask, hiding their true personality. All he could see were 'friends' who seemed like they would rather be anywhere else.
The boy couldn't see any reality in their interactions. He'd much rather spend his time enjoying webnovels or anime, where the world seemed nicer. A smart and righteous main character, who would beat up all the idiots and reign supreme. Of course, his thoughts and actions were always justified. He was the main character after all!
Ring.....ring.....ring! A bell rang to signify the end of the day. "Oi █ █! Where are you going?" The boy looked behind. This was the guy with a crooked tie. He had a name, but the boy never bothered using it. "Hey Crookie," he muttered.
"Hey, you're still calling me that? Why don't you just call me by my name?" Crookie sighed. "Anyways, listen. One of those posh kids challenged me today. You've gotta help me!" "Why should I," asked the boy. "It's your fault anyway. You should've just kept your mouth shut when they harassed you. I've seen tons of kids targeted by them. They'll lose interest eventually."
"What? You're asking the great me to surrender? Pshh! As if I'd do that. I am the proud Crookie, the crooked of tie. Plus, I'm gonna talk about how I overcame those bullies when I write my biography. I'm gonna need some inspiring material for that!" Crookie thrust his chest out proudly. "Don't worry! I've saved a spot for you in my book too, you know?" The boy snorted. "Hey," cried Crookie.
"Whatever. Anyways, come to the construction site at 10:00 p.m. You know which one. They've called me there today. I need a wingman. Someone to make me look good." "Just don't go," said the boy. "Are you crazy," exclaimed Crookie. "Bro, this is my chance! To defeat those idiots and ascend to high school glory. I'll stop their violence and save everybody in the school!" Crookie's eyes shined. He threw a punch. "Look at my moves! With this kind of power, there's no way that I'm gonna lose!"
The boy stared at Crookie. Crookie was a bulky guy. He was an amateur boxer and wanted to fight in the big leagues someday. He looked a bit like a delinquent, but was soft on the inside. The boy wondered what Crookie was to him. A friend? But he detested the idea of friends! He didn't want to be stuck in an endless loop of fake compliments and needless compulsions in the name of 'friendship'.
Yet, he didn't dislike Crookie. Even if all of this was Crookie's mask, he still had fun with Crookie. "Alright, I'll come," he conceded. "10:00p.m. Construction site. Don't forget it." Crookie walked away. Was this a needless compulsion? But it didn't feel bad. It didn't feel like a hassle to him. Maybe, just maybe, he'd go help Crookie out.
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'Noah unsheathed his sword. "I don't care about whatever pathetic backstory you have." He looked indifferently towards the lich. "You're gonna have to die so that I can get some sweet exp." He shot out like an arrow, his sword held straight in front his face. He was aiming to kill the lich in one hit. He...'
The boy turned off his phone. He looked at the time. 10:30 p.m. In the end, he decided not to go. "Huu....." He sighed. He'd been conflicted. One part of him wanted to go, but another part of him thought that it was a waste of time. Whatever. He'd apologise to Crookie tomorrow. He turned off the lights and went to sleep.
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The boy walked into his classroom. He'd been feeling a sense of emptiness ever since he'd woken up. Was it regret? Remorse? He didn't recognise this feeling. He trudged along to his seat and sat down. He'd decided. He was going to apologise to Crookie. Crookie probably bailed out, seeing that he hadn't come. Of course he did. There's no way that he took on those bullies, right?
A teacher walked in. Tap....tap....tap....creak. The wooden podium creaked under her weight. A feeling of dread washed over the boy. He looked around. Crookie wasn't here. "....been seriously injured. He got into an accident while playing around in the construction site behind the school. He's been hospitalised. He...."
The boy felt numb. lHuff...huff...huff." Crookie was injured. "Huff.....huff.....huff." He.....he was beaten up. "Huff....huff....huff." By bullies. But it was passed of as an accident. "Huff...huff...huff." They had hurt him. The boy could have saved him. If only he had gone with Crookie. "Huff..huff..huff."
Slam! He slammed his fist against the table. Everybody stared at him. He stood up and headed out of the class. "█ █! █ █! █ █, come back!" He could hear the teacher's voice. He started running. Faster. Faster. He had to get away. Away from this maze of masks and fake humans.
The wind whistled past him. "Hahaha! We got him good didn't we?" "But we won't get in trouble, will we?" "Nah, my dad said he'd handle it. Nobody's gonna go against the son of the school director! And anyways," he grinned. "He won't be attending school here. Maybe he'll go to a special school. A place for dis-a-bled kiddos." They all laughed.
The boy walked into a dark alley. It was the bullies- the same guys he saw troubling kids everyday. He had watched them. Just like he watched everybody else. But he had never acted. Except for today.
"You guys! Did you beat up Crookie? Huh? Answer me!" The boy screamed. "Huh? Who's this? Who did we beat up, huh?" A tall guy spoke. The same guy who had bragged about his father. "Crookie," screamed the boy. "He.....he was going to see you guys yesterday night, and now he's injured. Did you hurt him?" "Oh, you mean that guy with a crooked tie? Yeah sure, we broke his arms. He sure was proud of his boxing," he laughed. "Though he couldn't do much when we had his sister by the scruff of her neck."
The boy paled. "You...you assholes!" He rushed at them. What was this feeling? Hate? Why did he hate them? Why did he care for Crookie? Was this love? He'd never loved anyone until now. The old guy at the orphanage was friendly, yet he never loved him. Why did he care for Crookie then? Why did he hate them so much? Why? Why did they hurt Crookie?
The boy sent a fist flying. Crack! A loud sound could be heard as the tall guy's nose cracked. "Ow! Ow, what the hell?" The boy continued punching incessantly. Half of his shots went nowhere. The tall guy stood up. "Beat him up," he ordered. The bullies organise themselves as they surrounded the boy. One guy held his arms, another his legs, and the rest mercilessly assaulted him. Smash! Crack! Boof! "Oof," he cried as the tall guy elbowed him in the stomach. He curled himself into a ball as he was beaten up.
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The boy slowly opened his eyes. He looked around. It was snowing. The last rays of the sun shone through as the day was coming to a close. Crookie. What was his real name? He'd known Crookie for two months now, but he'd never bothered to find out his name.
The crooked tied kid. That was who he was. The person who was the closest thing to a friend he had. And now he was gone. His dreams were crushed, his hopes were extinguished, and all that he had was a family that couldn't even take revenge for him.
Why was life so unfair? Why did Crookie deserve this. Why didn't he go to help Crookie that day? Why was he born without parents and stuck in a dumb orphanage. Why couldn't he have a single friend. Why didn't he know Crookie's name? Why? Why?
The boy always loved reading webnovels. Scenes where the main character murdered bullies in cold blood- where they didn't need to care about the consequences- appealed to him. It hurt. Everyday, he looked at the injustices in society spilled out in front of him. Staring at strong people bullying weak ones, where most people would be stuck right where they were for the rest of their lives- he resented it. He resented staring at them, resented not being able to do anything, being right where he was, herded around like sheep, just like the others.
If only...if only he could punish these people who restricted him so, if only he could display his talents for everyone to see, to admire, without being harassed for trying to break out of the hierarchy. If only he could be free.
Whooooosh!
The sound of wind howling could be heard.
In a dark alley, a young boy lay on the ground, surrounded by snow. His face was bruised- he had a black eye, and blood trickled from his broken lip. Tears glistened on his face, showing the despair in his eyes. As he looked up to the sky, he took a deep breath and said, "Life's a bitch"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
J_Striker
J_Striker Here’s the second chapter. Congrats to me for actually posting a chapter after the first one. Anyways, if you’re getting bored, don’t worry. The action’s gonna start in 2 chapters. I just thought it would be a good idea to establish the mc’s backstory first. Also, there might not be a chapter tomorrow. I know, I know. Its a bad start. But I’ve got a test tomorrow. Sorry. Anyways, thanks for reading! Be sure to let me know your thoughts! J_Striker out!
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