The crowded hallway pulsed with noise, lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking across waxed floors, the air thick with the scent of sweat and cheap cologne. Jake Carter clutched his books tight against his chest, his blue eyes darting, looking for a clear path. He kept his head low, dark hair falling over his brow like a shield.
He almost made it to the stairwell when a voice cut through the din.
"Well, well. If it isn't Carter."
Jake froze. Tyler Matthews.
Tyler leaned against the lockers ahead, his dark blond hair catching the light, a smirk curled across his face. His crew flanked him, Dawson Rigsby on one side, Gage Ellison on the other, grinning like wolves waiting for the kill.
Jake's pulse spiked. He gripped his books tighter. "Move," he muttered, voice low.
"Sorry, what was that?" Tyler stepped forward, his green eyes flashing with amusement. "Did you just tell me what to do?"
Gage chuckled. "Kid's got nerve. Shame it's wasted."
Jake tried to edge past, but Tyler shoved a hand against his chest, slamming him back against cold steel. The sound rattled down the hallway, turning heads.
"Don't," Jake hissed, struggling against the pressure, but Tyler's grin widened.
"Don't? You think you've got a say?" Tyler leaned close, his breath hot and mocking. "See, Carter, this hallway, it's mine. And you? You're nothing but furniture in it."
Jake's books slipped from his arms, scattering across the floor. Students laughed, whispering, their eyes fixed like vultures circling. Jake bent quickly to gather them, but Dawson kicked one down the hall.
"Oops," Dawson said with a shrug, his tone dripping with false innocence.
Jake's jaw tightened, his fingers trembling as he picked up the others. "You've had your fun," he muttered. "Now get out of my way."
Tyler raised his brows, amused. "Oh, look. The mouse thinks he's a lion." He slammed Jake back once more, harder this time, and in one swift motion, yanked open a locker door.
Jake's eyes widened. "Don't."
"Don't?" Tyler mocked the word, dragging it out. With a sudden shove, he forced Jake inside. The metal groaned under the impact.
The door clanged shut. Darkness swallowed him.
Jake slammed his fists against the steel, his breath ragged, chest heaving. "Let me out!" His voice echoed in the small space, panic clawing at his ribs.
Outside, laughter erupted, sharp, cruel, echoing like a choir of hyenas.
"Better get used to the dark, Carter." Tyler's muffled voice floated through, dripping with mockery. "It suits you."
The locker rattled as Jake pounded again, but no one helped. The voices outside blurred into jeers and cackles. His throat tightened. The dark pressed closer, heavier.
His fists slowed. His breath quickened. Alone. Trapped.
And outside, Tyler's laugh lingered, low and victorious.
The locker door creaked, hinges whining like an old gate. Jake tumbled forward onto the linoleum, his books scattering once more. The sudden flood of light stabbed his eyes.
Laughter burst around him. Tyler's crew clapped and howled as if they'd just watched a circus act.
Jake pushed himself to his knees, face burning crimson, breath uneven. He snatched at his books, fingers fumbling, desperate to gather them before another shoe sent them skidding.
"Careful, Carter," Gage Ellison sneered, his sneakers stepping dangerously close. "Don't want to break a nail."
Dawson Rigsby barked a laugh. "Man can't even stand without falling on his face."
Jake's jaw clenched. He said nothing, only stacked the books tight against his chest, shoulders hunched. He could feel every stare piercing him, curious, mocking, indifferent. His throat worked, swallowing down the acid taste of humiliation.
Tyler crouched beside him, green eyes glittering. "How's the real estate in there?" His smirk widened. "Nice and cozy?"
Jake's blue eyes snapped up, icy with suppressed fury. "Go to hell."
The words slipped before he could stop them. His chest tightened as the laughter grew louder.
"Oh?" Tyler tilted his head, mock surprise lighting his features. "Did you hear that, boys? Carter finally grew teeth."
Gage leaned in close, his breath rank with mint gum. "Careful, pup. Wolves bite back."
Jake rose to his feet, books clutched so tightly his knuckles whitened. He wanted to swing, God, he wanted to smash his fist into Tyler's smug face, but his arms felt leaden, heavy with fear.
"Problem here?"
The hallway stilled for a moment. A teacher, Mr. John, the chemistry instructor, strolled by, his gray hair mussed, glasses slipping down his nose. His eyes flicked briefly to the scene.
Jake's chest lifted with hope.
But Mr. John only sighed, adjusted his glasses, and kept walking. The crowd dissolved into snickers.
"Guess no one cares, Carter." Tyler's voice dropped low, sharp as a blade. He stepped closer, close enough that Jake could see the faint scar along his jaw. "And you know what that means?"
Jake's pulse thundered. He gave no reply, his eyes, however, screamed rebellion.
"It means I decide how this ends." Tyler leaned in until his lips almost brushed Jake's ear. "Next time, you won't crawl out so easily."
Jake's breath caught, chest constricting. Tyler's words slithered into his bones, lodging deep. He could hear Dawson's chuckle, Gage's satisfied hum.
The bell shrieked, scattering students back into classrooms, but the damage was done. Jake stood rooted, shame and fury tangling inside him, unable to speak, unable to move.
Tyler's smirk lingered as he turned away, the echo of his warning burning in Jake's skull.
Jake shoved through the bathroom door, the hinges groaning as it swung wide. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on the cracked tiles. His chest heaved as though he'd outrun an army.
He dropped his books on the sink counter with a thud and leaned in, palms pressed flat, water dripping down his nose and chin. His reflection stared back, blood trickling from one nostril, cheeks flushed, eyes rimmed with shame.
The silence pressed on him, broken only by the distant echo of laughter from the hallway.
He twisted the faucet handle. Cold water splashed against his skin, stinging, rushing down to the porcelain basin. He cupped his hands, bringing it to his face, washing away the blood.
"Pathetic," he muttered to himself, the word heavy, broken.
The stall door behind him creaked. Jake's head whipped around. The metal door swung lazily open, a long squeal cutting into the air. Inside, graffiti sprawled across the walls in thick black marker. Three words scrawled above the toilet sneered at him: Born losers die losers.
Jake's throat tightened. His fingers curled around the edge of the sink, squeezing until the veins in his forearms stood out.
"Is that what I am?" His voice cracked against the empty room. He blinked rapidly, vision blurring. "Is that all they see?"
The door clanged shut again, echoing like cruel laughter.
Jake turned back to the mirror. His reflection met him, pale and fragile, dark hair falling into his eyes. He searched that face, his face, for something stronger, something that might one day claw free.
He heard Tyler's words again, hissing in his ear like venom: Next time, you won't crawl out so easy.
Jake's lips trembled. "I can't… I can't keep living like this."
The faucet dripped. One drop, then another, like a clock marking time. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned bone-white. His breath rattled in his chest, heavy, uneven.
His fist rose suddenly, almost of its own accord.
"Not anymore," he whispered.
With a crack, his hand slammed into the mirror. The glass splintered in a web across his reflection, shards catching the light in jagged flashes. His broken image stared back at him, a thousand fragments of the same boy, trapped, powerless, yet trembling with something unspoken.
Blood seeped from his knuckles, running down his wrist, dripping onto the sink. Jake stared at it, chest heaving, pulse racing like a drumbeat in his ears.
The silence grew heavier, oppressive, suffocating.
His fractured reflection seemed to sneer, as if mocking the wound. Jake leaned closer, the sting of pain mingling with the chill of the bathroom air.
The jagged glass trembled in the fa
int hum of the lights.
The door behind him groaned again, opening on its hinges.
Jake froze, bloodied fist still pressed to the sink.