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Summary
Skeet, which was originally on his very beat up and scratched gaming chair. Stood up quick enough to make his head dizzy, and his legs wobble. He raised his fists and slammed them on the desks out of anger. Hot, angry and grieving tears leaving a trail of red on his face.
He wouldn't usually be so loud, not necessarily. Skeet was always scared of getting his dad’s attention, causing loud noise to draw attention… And that’s bad, he doesn't want another beating.
But he just couldn't care at the moment. His heart was louder than anything in the house right now. His head screaming at him, Galaxy, Galaxy, Hostile boy, why was he born like this, in this stupid family, this stupid body. Why can’t god just kill him already, why can’t he just die by anybody’s hands. Skeet’s own emotion carried so much he just curled up on the hard wood floor and just sobbed, scratching at his knees in the process.
OR:
Skeet regrets what happened at there fight, and he punishes himself... But his dad finds him in the bathroom.