Trigger warning: Mention of scars and cuts

Alex's POV:

It'd only been a week since I'd moved to Baltimore form Essex. I'm not going to sugar-coat this, Baltimore fucking sucks. It's 6am on a fairly miserable looking Monday morning in September, I had half an hour before my alarm filled the room with it's shrill tone. Half an hour till I had to get up and get ready to go to my new school- great. The first few leaves from the old tree in the back yard were fluttering down to the damp grass below. The sight got me thinking...I wish I was a leaf. Stupid, I know, but not when you think about it. You spend months hanging, doing nothing and then, when the time comes, you're free. You float down to the ground and you're free to go wherever the wind takes you. Eventually you rot away. Gone. It seemed an easy life, a life I so desperately wanted.

I groaned as I glanced over at the clock as it displayed the time- 6:29am. I shut off my alarm, not bothering to wait the number of seconds remaining: there was no point. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and rushed into the bathroom across the hall. I turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm. I stripped down to my boxers and studied myself in the floor-length mirror hanging on the back of the door. Scars and fresh cuts littered my thighs and stomach. I hated the way I look but I only had myself to blame. I was the one who was too weak to be able to deal with the bullies' comments. I was the one who picked up the blade in the first place. I shivered at the though and stepped into the shower.

An hour had passed by the time I thudded down the stairs dressed in black skinny jeans, my favourite Green Day shirt and my old, beat-up converse. I walked into the kitchen, said morning to my mum, who was sat at the table with a cup of tea, grabbed a slice of toast, tossed my bag over my shoulder and headed out to my new school with nerves bubbling in my stomach.

The walk was relatively short but long enough to gather my thoughts. I made a promise to myself that I'd keep my head down and to try not to be targeted by any bullies. I walked through the entrance gates and grimaced at the sight. It was fucking huge. I frantically looked around trying to find the reception. My eyes had just landed on the sign when I was harshly pushed to the ground with a mutter of a word I'd heard too often: 'fag'.

I got up, dusted myself off, grabbed my bag and headed towards the reception. I was greeted by a blonde-haired woman, around the age of 40.
"Hello, Dear. Can I help you?"
I swallowed and answered, not taking my eyes off my shoes. "Errr...I'm n-new here, I need my t-time table and locker number." Damn my nervous stutter.
"Oh, of course, is it Alexander? You're the only new student so you must be." Great. The only new student. The woman handed me my timetable, locker number and a map. I smiled in thanks and headed to my locker.

I approached the gratified lockers and scanned the numbers till I came across one with a skunk-haired, lanky boy leaning against it.
"Looking for this one?" His voice was deep and gravelly but it held a tone of maliciousness. I made a mental note to avoid this one.
"Err, yeah. Do you mind moving?" What the fuck was I doing? Way to keep your head down, Alex! Luckily, for me, he moved with only throwing me a glare. I opened it, shoved all the shit I didn't need inside and went in search of my form room: music 4.

Notes

Hey, this is my first ever Jalex story. I hope it's not too shit, aha.
I already have a few chapters planned out so I'll probably upload one or two more chapters tonight.

I just want to apologise if I get any references wrong, I'm British and I'm aware that things are called different things in America. I'd rather just write it using the terms I know instead of trying to use the American terms and get it wrong :)

Thanks for reading,
Em