"You know I've always been a curious little shit, as others have put it. Ever since I was a child, I've asked questions, never really getting any good answers, but that didn't stop me from asking. After all, I am a curious little shit."
Teachers say school should be quiet and that students should be obedient. After all, they came here to learn, not make friends with whom they can make noise, but they had to be honest: no one followed what they said.
Not even them, really, as they were busy speaking and flirting with each other. Hands and feet rained down on a boy not too far from them.
They could hear the sounds of stomping and hitting accompanied by pure, self-entertained laughter.
They could see from the corner of their eyes as the boy on the ground grew smaller and smaller, curling up into a ball to protect his head and stomach, but they paid no attention to him.
Hell, some of them even found entertainment in the beating he was receiving, having no intention of stopping, recording it maybe, but stopping it? No
And why would they? It wasn't their problem.
"It started normally at first. I would ask questions you would expect from any child: Why is the sky blue? Why do I have to go to school?"
" Why… why don't I have parents"?
"Usually teachers would answer me; they would humor me, you know, just explain to the kid even though you were pretty sure he didn't understand a damn thing you just said. Well, it wasn't as if they did it out of the kindness of their hearts. No, why do that when you can get paid for it"
"But don't get me wrong, they were in no sense wrong for making money from answering stupid questions; after all, we all need money, but it's the fact that most of them didn't even try to care. And once I got older, I started asking even more questions."
"Why do the elves live so long? Why do vampires need to drink blood to survive? Why do we have to fight each other?"
"The only answers I got were 'That's just the way it is,' or they just completely ignored me."
Blood flew painting the white tiled floor and hallway walls but even as the blood attached itself to their hands and feet they didn't stop hitting the boy, they didn't stop laughing.
"The more I grew the more questions I asked but eventually I learned to just stay quiet after all it wasn't as if they were going to get answered anyway, and around that same time was when we started combat training, or as I like to call it rank evaluations"
"We were made to fight against each other in class, sometimes with weapons sometimes with out, the strong beat the weak, and the weak beat the weaker, and the weaker beat the weakest, and I was always the weakest"
"So if the weak were getting pushed around by the strong, what do you think started happening to me"
"Yeah that's right I got the worst of it"
"And to make matters worse,I apparently was classified as weird by my own peers, they said I was "creepy", and that my eyes were "Hollow" whatever that meant"
"They even gave me a nickname, Robot Boy, which although funny to them was just weird to me"
As the kicking and beating continued the boy had still yet to make a single sound which only served to make them beat him harder, they wanted to hear him scream.
They wanted to hear him suffer
"Come on robot boy say something, do something, beg, cry, get up and fight, dosomething damn it" said a young man the same age as the one on the floor.
His hair was golden blond the same color as the nine fox tails he had,
to his right one of the other students started laughing
"You know robot boy can't do that, that's what makes him such a freak !" The word landed just as hard as the kick he delivered to his stomach
"isn't that right robot boy"
To this the rest of them laughed even harder, it even earned him a few chuckles from the teachers pretending not to look, they laughed as he was getting beaten.
His blood pooled under their shoes they laughed, his skin bruised, they laughed, he coughed up even more blood, they laughed, his eyes swelled, they laughed
They laughed at him
At his suffering, not even batting an eye as if this was normal, as if beating someone to the brink of death in school, in front of teachers was normal,
Manic smiles framed their faces as if it was the only natural expression that they could make.
"Seeing their faces one of the questions I often find myself asking resurfaced in my mind once again."
"If everyone in the world were to go mad, then would you be sane?, and If you by some miracle where then wouldn't that make you the only true insane person"
He didn't know how long the beating lasted as he often tuned them out completely, just letting his mind wander as he experienced the pain.
But what he did know was the next time he raised his head the hallways were empty and dark matching the darkness he saw outside the window.
It was night now, it was time to leave, time to go home and leave this pile of blood for someone to clean up.
So he did just that, he went home.
Opening the door to his home he was greeted with nothing, just the empty walls of his house where no sound occupied once he was gone.
Walking in the house his steps were not blocked by anything, not a table or chair, the hallway was empty, and the two extra rooms were empty.
The only furniture in this whole house was in his room, a bed, a single lonely bed that he only had because the kind old lady next door had given it to him as she didn't need it anymore.
He wasted no time sitting on the bed even though he was still covered in dried blood and bruises.
He just sat on the bed staring blankly at the wall in front of him.
He had thought he had asked most questions already but apparently today he found another
"What's the point in living"
But just like usual no one answered this one too so he just ran his hands through his ash silver hair as he finally said the words no one else had said to him for as long as he could remember.
"Happy birthday to me"
And that is when his dark blank eyes caught a light in the corner of his gaze.
It was a floating red holographic panel that simply said
[Scanning Host]
He was too tired for this.