Second period.

You all may think that I must not be all that bad. You're all too good to have anything else ever cross your mind. But I'm not good enough for you.

"I just have to get through the day."

"Then what?
You wake up like this again tomorrow?"

"Maybe you'll be gone."

"You can't run away from me B-523."

"Why not?"

After the bell rings again signifying the end of the passing period, a hush falls across everyone in the Pre-Calc classroom. It's a test day, and the room holds its breath as the teacher passes out the tests. Each student sits silently in their own respective thoughts, all of them hoping to pass for some reason or other. Some for parents, some for college, some simply because they want good grades, but for B-523 the reason for passing is simply so that he will not be punished.
He still has the self-inflicted scars from the last time he received below 95% on a test.

"Hello?"

I really am all that bad.

The silence that the classroom is enveloped in is the kind that is so still it becomes almost like a force in and of itself. It's thick, the consistency of warm fudge, which while sounds enjoyable, warm fudge is not something you particularly want to swim in. You will drown. In addition, it was this very force that made B-523 feel as though he had lost the ability to breathe and like the scars he bore were once again reopened. Surely the air was getting thinner! Surely his throat was closing up!
B-523 walks up to the front of the room.
"May I use the restroom?"
"Naturally."
As soon as B-523 hits the hallway, his feet are running.

I'm a terrible person, and I don't deserve to have any of you in my life. You don't deserve to have me there, dragging you down with every step.

"Of course I can talk to you whenever I don't want to,
But the moment I ask a question or actually need you to fill the empty space-
You disappear.
Why?"

"Oh B."

"Only my friends call me that.
We are not friends."

"Ha!
Sure.
We're not friends.
Yet, you talk to me and agree with most things I say.
You just said you want to talk to me.
You need me."

"We're not friends, my ass."

"You-"

"Oh look here comes yet another person you let down."

There's a Voice. It haunts me with every step I take.

B-523 pauses in his steps as he sees another boy. The boy has dark skin, thick-rimmed glasses, and he wears a simple grey hoodie with a school's name on it.
"Hey B, are you good?" the boy asks, concern filling his voice. B-523 takes a moment to answer. He's still finding it hard to breathe, though the air seemed to get more plentiful once he left the classroom.
"Yeah, I'm okay, Ze-ze. Just needed to get out of pre-calc." Ze-ze laughs, and as B-523 joins in with him, and it's barely noticeable that he's forcing the sound to come out of his mouth, shoving down all of the words that are threatening to be vomited up.
"I know the feeling well." Ze-ze falls into step with B-523 who has now slowed down to a normal pace, not wanting Ze-ze to think anything is wrong.
There's a lull in the conversation. "I heard some jerk said some stuff about you." B-523 finally says. There is a noticeable shock on Ze-ze's face.
"Who told you that?"
"Did you not want me to know?"

"Wow, beautiful.
Bravo.
Now you can be the next jerk who says bad things about him.
Snapping at your friend.
He's been through enough,
Why are you such a bad person?"

"I- I'm sorry Ze, I didn't mean to snap I- I don't know why I did that. You obviously don't have to tell me anything you don't want." B-523 rushes, but Ze-ze waves him off.
"Nah you didn't snap. And it's not that I don't trust you or anything, you're pretty much my best friend. It's just that Carla and I noticed that you haven't really been yourself lately so we decided that we weren't gonna put more on you than we needed to."

Words of: "You need to be better" or "You don't deserve any love."

"See B-523,
Now he's trying to make you feel better,
when you're supposed to be making him feel better.
Typical.
You're a terrible person.
You need to learn to hide your emotions."

Ze-ze pauses and nudges B-523, a playful look striking his face. "Besides, the dude was just a grade-A douche jealous of my mad soccer playing skills." Ze-ze laughs at himself, but B-523 doesn't join his friend in the joyful noise.
Anyone who knows anything about Ze-ze knows he's terrible at soccer. Quite easily the worst who tried out for the team, and possibly the worst in the grade. He only went out for it because he needed to try out for a sport, he didn't really want to do soccer.
"Oh come on that was funny," says Ze-ze, nudging B-523. B-523 pauses.
"I don't want to be mean to you," he whispers.
"You're not being mean to me B, I'm being mean to myself."
"You shouldn't do that."

"Geez stop being so harsh idiot."

"Sorry," says B-523 quietly and regretfully.
"You should stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Apologizing."

"Ha!
You can't do that."

I used to think that voice was just me. It was just another part of me,

"Why?" B-523 chokes out.
"Because you have nothing to be sorry for." Ze-ze wraps B-523 in a hug- he always was the most affectionate of the three friends. Carla, though motherly in manner wasn't the most physically affectionate, and B-523 would accept physical affection but was never the one to initiate it. He also wasn't too affectionate with words, but his actions were always gentle, and working to help those he cares about. B-523 lets himself feel calm, if only for a moment. The hug feels good, like just the slightest drizzle after a long drought. Not enough to water the Earth, but enough to prevent it from dying anymore for that short time. Soon enough though, the hug ends, and the walls of the dam shut up tightly again, leaving B-523 thirsting in the desert.
"You don't have a mean bone in your body, B."

"Don't believe him."

After a moment Ze-ze looks up at the clock and runs off after telling B-523 he should get back to class. B-523 watches him go.

"I don't."

B-523 continues down the hall.

"What am I doing anymore?"

B-523 heads into the restroom and his hands tremble as he splashes cold water on his skin. As he dries off his face and turns to look in the mirror, a knife jabs him in the heart.

"Fat.
Ugly.
Stupid."

but it's not. It's not me. It's a whole nother person inside my head. It's a demon.
Still.
That doesn't change the fact that almost every word it speaks is the truth.

B-523 takes his long hair out of the ponytail he has in it. His hands go up to his head, pulling at it. He rakes his fingers through the greasy mess. B-523 used to take great pride in his wavy black hair, but now as his dark eyes bore into the mop on his head, he wants nothing more than to shave it off.
B-523 started growing his hair out in middle school at a time when he was fairly self-conscious about the way he looked. He liked his body and all back then, but the way he dressed, and the way the rest of him looked just didn't feel like him. He started putting more effort into his appearance instead of just throwing on whatever was in his drawer or on the floor of his room, but his hair was the thing experimented with the most. Once B-523 grew out his hair for the first time, he knew that was how he liked it. Normally it was thick, shiny, and fell a little ways past his shoulders, but since in the past few months he had gone from washing it every-other-day to maybe washing it once a week, it was the opposite of shiny and luscious, and the once wavy hair had curled and knotted up in defiance and made his hair a good few inches shorter than it normally was.
In addition to the rat's nest he sports on his head, the rest of B-523's appearance wasn't doing great either. He had lost a lot of weight, and the clothes he now wears that fitted him perfectly a few months ago, now looked like dirty hand-me-downs from someone much bigger than him. Personal hygiene hasn't been high on his list of things to take care of.
B-523 picks at the sleeves of his solid grey long sleeve shirt, and plain green jacket, both of which fall far over his hands.

I love you all so much, but I don't deserve to.
I don't deserve to love any of you.

"Why am I like this?
What's wrong with me?"

A boy appears behind B-523 in the mirror. The shadow he casts falls over B-523, plunging him into darkness.

"Everything."

B-523 ties his hair back up, and tugs the hood of his jacket over his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets as he heads back to class to finish his test.

Third period.

I know what I'm going to do is going to hurt you. And I'm so so sorry. I can't express enough how awful I feel about this. But know it's not your fault. It's not any of your fault. Nobody knew about this.

"You're not good enough.
Be better."

"I'm just sitting here."

"Your point?"

"I guess I don't have one."

In the end, though, you're all going to be better off without me.
I know you will.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and when B-523 gets home, he escapes to his room and flops down on his bed.

"Everyone would be better off without you."

"Probably true."

"You should just kill yourself."

"No.
That would hurt everyone I care about."

"Maybe at first but then they would all be so much happier."

"I-
I love my life though."

"Do you?"

B-523 stands up, and once again takes down his hair.

"Not all of it."

B-523 starts messing with the strands close to his face like he does whenever he's nervous.

"But I don't want to give up on the things I do still love."

"You're so difficult."

B-523 goes to his desk and picks up a pen.

"You're going to run away.
Far away where you can't hurt the people you care about any longer."

"You say that like you're sure."

"I am sure."

"How?"
"Because I'm you."

B-523 stutters and pauses. Not for long though- he grabs a sheet of paper.

Thank you all for everything you've done. You've all done so much for me. You mean more to me than you could ever imagine.

"Good.
Now sign it."

Love,
B

"And the date?"

5/23

"Now you see why you call yourself B-523?"

B-523 folds up the letter.

"Yes."

~-~-~~-~-~

The next day B-523 leaves the letter he wrote in Carla's locker after school. She shouldn't find it until he's long gone since she has colour guard after school.
B-523 walks out the doors of the school and makes his way down the sidewalk. His bag is heavy, packed with all the necessities he might need, as he walks to the bus station.

"That's it.
Walk out of their lives forever.
Just one more block and you're there."

"B!"
B-523 turns around in time to see Carla and Ze-ze getting out of a car and tackling him to the ground, pinning him there so he can't move. His head cracks against the concrete, and everything fades away.

***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and I want to remind you that my PMs are always open if you need anything at all. 

If you liked this part please consider leaving a vote/comment!

-Sunny <3