You were an outcast, shunned from social groups for being ‘emo’, leaving you as the loner of the school. You spent most of your time tucked away in the library, trying to fill the loneliness inside of you with books, endless pages imprinted into your mind.

You had no one and nobody, people only bothering to speak to you for a pen or answers on a test, never to actually communicate. That was until you met Phillip, the more loved of the outcasts. He wore heavy metal shirts, always ranting about the new albums that had just come out, it was cute really.

Time passed and the two of you grew closer, finding similar interests in music and just general hobbies, which led you to dating. It was almost a dream dating him, the popular kids actually noticed you, giving you a small hello whenever they passed, it was so different.

Of course, there were still some who disliked you, not for your personality, just for the way you looked, they stereotyped you, screaming ‘emo!’ whenever you passed by, you tried to ignore it, but the insults had become more personal lately, them referring to your brother’s death as your fault, saying you casted him out.

As the insults began to get to you, you slowly stopped coming to school, stopped hanging out with Phillip, stopped everything, staying sat in your bedroom all day and night. Phillip was worried, constantly coming over to check on you, even if you pushed him away.

So, like clockwork he arrived at your door, being allowed in by your mother and led up to your bedroom before he entered, closing the door behind him. Something was off about him, the faint blood splatter on his t-shirt, bruised knuckles and the fresh wound on his face were all very unusual.

He had noticed you staring, quickly bringing a hand to cover the gash across his face.

“I- uh.. Got scratched by a cat?”

He spoke in the most unbelievable tone ever, silently cursing himself before sighing, lowering his hands and rubbing his knuckles.

“I fought those assholes that’re making you like this, alright?”