Such a Pill
As Jack thought over all he had done in the last week and a half, he was filled with a sense of
emptiness. He couldn't remember the last time he had gone outside. But this was probably for the better.
Jack was a little ungainly, and the other kids mocked him constantly for it. And years of this
unorthodox behavior from his peers left him in a social coma, one from which he chose not to come out
of. His mother and father beat and abused him to no end, and this deepened Jack depression. "Why can't
you get some real friends?" they would ask. "Why do you sit in your room all day long, talking to yourself
and reading?" ::smack:: "We pay for your schooling for you to get an education and to meet people."
::smack:: "I'll be damned if you're gonna let my money go to waste!" ::smack:: "Look at these grades! D-"
::smack:: "F" ::smack:: "And these comments! 'Does not work up to potential'" ::smack:: "'Does not come
prepared for class'" ::smack:: Stuff like that. He tried to explain his reasons, but no excuse was good
enough for his over demanding parents. He was shy and quiet, and people would rather suffocate
themselves rather than be near him. Jack hadn't eaten more than a little bit of bread in the last week and a
half either. At 14 years old, Jack was 5 foot 9 and a half inches, and weighed only 88 pounds. 'Oh well,'
he thought. 'Time to go to bed.' Tomorrow would be another chance to regain his self-respect, and to
make new friends. If, that was, he woke up in the morning. As Jack passed out, the bottle of sleep-aids he
had just downed fell out of his hand and rolled across the hardwood floor.
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