You decided to stay in the bathroom until the period was over, not feeling confident enough to go back there and face everyone who had witnessed you getting hit in the face with a volleyball, especially Gilbert. Besides, with the amount of blood that was coming from your nose, you figured it would've been a while until you could've gotten it under control. You didn’t want to go to the nurse, since that meant going there for the second time in a week and you really didn’t need someone else involved in your physical problems unless it was an absolute emergency, like getting punched in the stomach.
You sniffed as you continued to sit on the toilet in the stall, which was fairly dim under the minimum amount of light that shone on that side of the room. You stood up from the toilet and turned around to throw another blood-soaked tissue wad into it, getting another cluster of toilet paper and pressing it against your nose.
You sighed as you leaned against the stall wall, staring down at your feet and feeling slightly calmed at the silence. As long as nobody was able to bother you when you were in there, you just would've stayed until P.E. was over.
At that moment, you heard the door to the bathroom open and the sound of two pairs of footsteps as they entered the room, making your body tense and your breath to become still.
“Ugh, I hate this class so much,” one of the girls said as the footsteps continued, making you lean forward to peek in through the crack in the bathroom stall. You were able to see two girls in front of the mirrors behind the sinks, one with wavy blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and one with curly brown hair going down to about her shoulders. “It always ruins my morning makeup.”
“I know,” the brunette said, pulling out her purse and digging through it. After a few moments, she took out lipstick and a mascara brush and began applying the stick on her lips.
“Hey, can I use that when you’re done?” the blonde asked, and the brunette nodded. After a few minutes, she gave her friend the lipstick, which she started applying immediately, and she herself kept her gaze concentrated on the mirror as she put on mascara.
They actually share lipstick? A disgusted expression came across your face. That’s so gross!
“Hey, you know the (h/c)-haired girl who got hit in the face with the volleyball?” the blonde asked.
“Yeah,” the other girl replied, turning her head to look at her friend. “What about her?”
The blonde sighed and you were able to spot her rolling her eyes in the mirror. “She is so stupid and selfish. While she thinks it’s right for us to get all sweaty in the gym, she thinks its right for her to just stand around all day and do nothing!”
“Maybe getting hit in the face would teach her to actually join in the game next time instead of just standing there like a ghost,” the other said, and the both of them went into a brief fit of laughter.
“And what's with that uniform anyway?” the blonde continued. “Like, who would want to wear something that completely covers their body, especially in the gym?”
“Maybe she has some kind of condition...”
“Well, she must be mentally ill,” the blonde concluded. “I mean, who walks around school all day like a mindless zombie? And every time I see her, she’s either standing around somewhere by herself with no reason at all or she’s sitting someplace nobody ever goes to. I swear that girl has serious problems.”
“I often see her get bullied around by Gilbert,” the brunette said. “Maybe that’s the reason why she’s so lonely.”
The other girl snorted. “Oh, please. With the way she acts in school, she deserves to get bullied. I hope she gets bullied so much that she’ll be permanently scarred for life.”
“Yeah,” the brunette agreed with a nod. “Maybe we should actually look forward to going to our next P.E. class to see if she gets hit in the face again!”
Bursting into another fit of laughter, the two girls turned around and walked out of the bathroom, leaving you alone in the stalls once again.
By the time they had closed the door behind them, you were still peeking out through the crack in the bathroom stall, though by now your breathing had gotten ragged and tears were leaking out of your eyes once more. With a sigh, you slid down to the floor and hugged your knees to your chest, silently crying into them.
Gilbert wasn't becoming the only cause of your problems anymore.
You were dreading coming to school the next day, not only because you would've had to face Gilbert and once again get some kind of injury, but it was the day you had to take your spring exam for math, your second to worst subject besides P.E. You always hated math and thought it more difficult than going to the gym, mainly because of the reason that you actually tried. However, all your efforts throughout the school years had been meaningless, and now you had to take the most important math test of the semester. You knew for sure that you were most likely going to fail.
When your math period began and you already sat yourself down and started the two-hour test, you found that your mind was unable to focus on the material in front of you and your thoughts kept on drifting off to the girls in the bathroom yesterday.
Why did they think it was right for them to judge you based on how you were behaving in school? Sure you were isolated and had to wear a special gym uniform, but that absolutely did not mean you had mental issues! They couldn't have thought about the fact that you probably had your own personal reasons why you acted this way instead of just a condition. Sure, you were probably mentally depressed due to all you had to face in school, but that didn’t meant you had to have some kind of illness!
You felt your throat tighten when you thought back to what the blonde girl had said, about how you deserved to be bullied because of the way you acted in school. Well the main reason for your behavior in school was because of the bullying, and you bet if that blonde girl had to see your life through her eyes, she probably would've taken those words back. Having someone make fun of your hard life and the fact that you were so severely bullied made you want to break your desk in two.
</i>They don’t even know about all I put up with every single day,</i> you thought angrily, clenching your pencil in your hand. They have absolutely no right to say that and make fun of me!
You had a feeling that pretty soon, the whole school would be picking fun at you. When Gilbert first started bullying you, it had been done in private when no one else was around to see. Now, he was throwing insults at you in front of others and causing some kind of harm to you when his friends were around to see, like that one time he punched you in the stomach in front of two other boys.
You sighed and put your forehead in your hand. Why is life so hard for me? I never did anything to any of these people, so why am I always getting insulted and teased?
Focusing your attention back to your mile-long math test, you flipped through the pages in the booklet and instantly felt your heart drop. There was just no way you were going to be able to complete all of this in just a short span of two hours. But trying and having a small chance of passing was better than not trying and completely failing, right?
With a sigh, you gripped your pencil tightly in your hand and began the test, almost 10 minutes behind everyone else.
You let out a sigh as you walked out of the door to the math room, holding your books with slightly trembling arms. You knew for a fact that you most likely failed that test, since more than half of the time your mind wandered elsewhere and you had no idea how to solve the majority of the problems or what they were even supposed to mean. Now the next problem that you had to face was running into Gilbert as you walked to your next class.
It wasn't even five seconds after you walked out of the room and began walking down the hall that you heard a loud whistle and the sound of your name. Instantly, you lifted your gaze from the ground and looked up just in time to see Gilbert walk over to you with another one of those menacing expressions on his face.
You felt your heart increase its pace, and you slightly tightened your grip on your books as you stopped walking and took a step back. “Wh-What do you want, Gilbert?” you asked quietly, trying hard not to let your voice tremble.
He let out a smirk before he walked up to you and effortlessly shoved you against the lockers, causing pain to once again erupt throughout your back and a single, tiny squeak to escape you. “How was the math test, _____?”
You were able to feel the trembling of your knees due to your instant weakness from the shove, though you forced yourself not to collapse on the ground and instead struggled to keep your composure. “Oh, it was...fine,” you murmured quietly, dropping your gaze down to your feet.
“Lies,” Gilbert sneered, smacking his hand under your books. You let out a gasp and your eyes slightly widened as you watched your books instantly escape your grasp and scatter all over the ground, several of your papers slipping out of the inside of their pages and fluttering in the air before they settled to the ground as well.
“Hey...!” you said, looking up at him a bit anxiously. “Why did you—”
But you never got the chance to reply before you felt a fist fiercely meet your stomach, causing you to let out a yelp. Your knees finally became too weak to hold your weight and before you knew it you found yourself on the floor, clutching your now aching stomach with both arms.
“You are so worthless, ____!” Gilbert exclaimed amusingly as he hovered over you, grabbed your hair with one hand, and threw punches at several parts of your body with his other. “You're so dumb and weak and useless, you can't even fight back or do anything no matter how long I’ve done this to you!”
After a few more punches, Gilbert finally withdrew his hand and let go of your hair. By this point, your body was aching terribly with excruciating pain, and you were able to feel blood starting to leak through some parts of your skin. As you lay there, sprawled out on the floor, you somehow managed to prop yourself up on shaky elbows and lift your head to meet his gaze. “Why...?” you trembled, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you always bully me? What did I ever do to you...?”
Gilbert was silent for a few moments, staring down at you with a cold, hard gaze. At that moment, you could've sworn that for a fraction of a second, you saw sadness and longing fill his eyes, but it was quickly dismissed and replaced with his usual threatening glare. He leaned forward so that his face was only a few inches from yours.
“That’s none of your business,” Gilbert said so quietly it made shivers run up and down your body. “All I'm gonna tell you is that nobody cares about you, and you better know that. Not even your parents, the staff at the school, or any of the kids care about you. Why should they even care anyway? You’re useless in this world and don’t deserve a life. Why do you think none of the teachers or kids come around to help you, even though I bully you in public? It’s because they don’t want you around. They don’t care about you. They want you gone. Not just from this school, but from this world. It would make everyone, especially me, happy if you went ahead and killed yourself. Believe me, so many of our problems would be solved by then.”
At that moment, it felt as if you had forgotten how to breathe, and all you could've done was stare at Gilbert with wide, fearful eyes. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he stood up and turned away from you, walking to his next class and leaving you looking after him with shocked, tear-filled eyes.