YOURDEMONS.

The pain didn't bother Bartholomew.Not anymore.Everyday was the same thing. He would go to school, hoping to be left alone. Then again, the forlorn look on his face that seemed to deject reality would always draw them to him. The louts, with their snobbish faces, jeering as they tackled him from out of nowhere and slammed him on one of the metal lockers. The safety locks on the locker doors would skid down the skin of his back, and he could feel the pain.But it didn't bother him. Not anymore. "Hey hey, Bartie-boy. You bought what we wanted, right?", said the guy who lifted Bart with one hand by the collar. He was already carrying Bart's full weight off the floor, and the latter could expect to be tossed aside at any given moment just for the hilarity of seeing him hit the ground.But no. Bart had something they wanted. He was aware of it.Without a word or cry for help, Bart stuffed his hand on his left pocket and thrust to

The time Bart spent in class flew like a breeze. Perhaps, thinking about the implications of Mallory Nelson's actions towards him earlier was the cause.Bart wasn't planning on dwelling on it. He had other things to do: study, keep in touch with his uncle, and rest. He didn't have time to let this thoughts wander - even though it marked the first time anyone showed concern for him.Was it really concern?Bart shook his head and decided enough. He grabbed his bags and left the room, ignoring the stares from those who still couldn't believe a school elite laid genuine eyes on a scumbag like him. College dismissal always gave Bart enough leeway to avoid trouble. Thanks to his class schedule ending ahead of the upper-years (the bullies were a year older than him, and his seniors), Bart is easily able to bolt for home scot-free. He quickly left the school premises and walked the streets.. which were more highlighted than usual.Bart looked

Never did Bart imagine that he would have the pleasure of seeing his own hand being burnt to the bone.All he could remember was fainting. He could hear the sudden rush of footsteps in his direction as he hit the cold ground. His bag fell off his shoulders; there was the distinct wailing of sirens and hands lifting him up.. And then, for the first time in a while, he dreamed. He dreamed he was standing on a field of black. From the way misshapen forms lay beneath his feet like scorched grass and flowers, the place was obviously a garden before being charred into oblivion. He checked the expanse before him. There was no one else around for miles.But then he heard a creak behind his back. He slightly turned his head.A gigantic gate between two soot-ridden pillars stood in the middle of the razed land, seemingly as aged as the landscape itself. Painted scarlet with black metal rods lined up in its center, rusting and seem

------------------------------------------------------"Alright. You have 2 hours to find the proper definition for the terms I listed. If I don't see a single word on your written tasks, there's gonna be hell to pay for each of you."The whole class groaned as their History professor in dull clothes and stern demeanor, Mrs. Maxine, gave them their daily activity in the college library. As expected, nearly everyone found the place as a dreary deadhole - except Bart. He always considered the library as refuge from the concerns of the outside world.That, along with the fact that none of his bullies had any interest in entering libraries.Promptly excusing herself for a smoke break, Mrs. Maxine went out the library door. It was the window that the class needed to 'divide and conquer'; some of the students went on to the isolated parts of the library to flirt around, others preferred to chatter aimlessly. Others hid their heads behind books just to doze off.

A scream tore through the calm of the hallway.A pained, disgruntled scream from the bully named Sid. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"Sid kicked Bart aside. He flopped to the ground like a fish out of water, eyes leaking in tears and expression riddled in agony. His hands  circled tight around his leg. On that leg was the ballpoint pen Bart stabbed him with, its metallic writing end -and most of its head- buried deep within skin. Drops of blood began to leak from his pants and to the ground."FUCK- FUCK- FUCK- IT HURTS!!! YOU FUCKING SHITHEAD!! "Sid's two lackeys scrambled to their boss's side, trying to help him up. Their faces flustered into panic. Sid swatted their hands aside and continued to hold his leg, looking around to see everyone  watching them from afar gasping in fright - and eyeing him with contempt.Eyeing him as though he deserved it.Sid's trembling turned into