I just barely managed to get back to sleep before I had to get up for school. I've been ditching school however, so why am I still going? Besides, I may run into them. I'm not even seeing Elon for tutoring anymore, not after that. But I'm not going to get into college if I skip classes. I hate this. I don't want to go through with this. I wish someone could help me, but everyone's a hater. I hate everyone, but I got no choice. I'll just have to tell people to back off then.

I get dressed, only to realize I was already wearing clothes. Screw this, I'm just going to school.

"I'm going already." I tell my mom.

"Did you take a shower?"

"No."

"You haven't taken a shower in days. You smell terrible."

"I feel comfortable."

"I don't care what you think. Take a shower."

'Why should I? I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to be left alone."

She walks up to me, but of course not too close. "You disgusting boy. Get in that shower right now."

"I'm going to be late for school."

"That's your fault for not getting up early. Get in that shower."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"If you don't go into that shower, you are no longer allowed in here, you go it? You get into that shower, or you never come back."

"Then I won't. I hate it here. I never want to see you again."

"Fine, I don't like you either. You're disgusting, you know?"

*knock knock*

Oh great, whose that now? I open the door to see two men in uniform. "Rudy Bashaface, I presume."

"What's going on?" I ask with confusion.

"We are from the Department of Child Services. Can we speak to your mother?"

"That's me," she says as she approaches them.

"We've gotten complaints about your son's home life. Our reports say that your son is being mistreated at home."

"Like hitting him? I don't hit him. I don't even touch him."

"Another report says that he is also living an unhealthy lifestyle."

"That's on him. He refuses to take a shower and plays with his own fecal matter."

"Mom!" I shout. Dammit, someone reported me? Who was it? That doctor? Elon? Heather?

"We're going to have to take your son and interview him about this. Will you come with , Rudy?"

"Uhh... yeah, I guess. Let me just take a shower. I stink." I don't know what's going on, but something tells me I can't do anything about it. If word of this gets out, I'm going to be the biggest weirdo of the school.

They drive me to some office. This is so intimidating. What is going on? What are they going to do to me? Some woman comes in wearing a white lab coat. She must be a doctor of some kind.

"I'm getting straight to the point. I am concerned about this report I have. According to this, you seem to have an interest in your own bodily waste, your mother is ignoring your basic needs both physically and mentally, you've been skipping school, you are very anxious, are becoming anti-social, are exhibiting compulsive harassment against your peers, and according to the staff I sent over, you were about to leave without proper hygienic practices."

"What about it?"

"Rudy, you are not well. It's best if you stay with us."

"What do you mean? What is this place?"

"This is an institution."

"What? Institution? Like a laboratory?"

"In some ways, but it's more of a therapeutic place. A place to heal. You have numerous mental issues going on. You need help and your current environment is not helping you."

"No, I don't like this place."

"If it were up to me, you would already be admitted, but because you are 17, the state can't force you to stay, but you know yourself that you are not well."

"Did that doctor in school report me?'

"I am not at liberty to say, but irregardless of who reported you, people are concerned about your well being. You are being hostile and aggressive to your fellow students. You are indulging in your own bodily waste. I'm sure this is causing you distress to take it out on others."

"I'm not a bully! I haven't picked on anyone since elementary school."

"According to my report, you have been acting this way since elementary school. You are not well, Mr. Bashaface."

"I want to go home. I don't want to be here."

"Rudy, the more you live like this, the worse it's going to get in the future. In our facility, we will give you the therapy you need, psychiatric sessions to help you cope with your disorder. We promise you that by staying in our facility, we'll fix you and you'll be a normal human being."

"But isn't this expensive?"

"The state pays for all of it."

"But do I need my mom's permission?"

"Yes, you do, since you are under 18, but I don't see any reason why she would reject considering your disorder is causing problems at home."

Is this why I was reported? So I can hear all this? I don't like it. Why do you got to treat me like a freak. But I don't know what to do. I know I have a problem, but I hate being poked and probed. Stupid people, I'm not an animal!

"I'll... tell my mom."

They take me home and I report to her what happened.

"Then go," she says. "I don't know why you came back. Just stay there."

"Mom, do you really want to get rid of me?"

"Why should I keep you? You're a filthy boy."

"Mom, you know I take good care of myself."

"But you refused to take a shower for the past few days."

"That was because I was going through some heavy s**t, okay? I take showers every day. I even remembered to take one before I went with those guys."

"But you're still disgusting! You want to play with your feces and urine. What the hell kind of person does that?"

"Alright, fine. Then I'll go. You'll never see me again!"

"Fine. Then go."

"But give me a hug first."

"What?"

"I took a shower. I'm clean. Give me a hug."

"No. I refuse."

"Mom, hug me."

"Get away from me!"

I grab her arm and pull her in. I give her a hug but she slaps me on the face.

"HOW DARE YOU! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" and she starts throwing stuff at me.

I just wandered around. I didn't go to school and I didn't return to that facility either. I'm don't know where to go. I'm just here in the park, just drifting.

I don't know what to do. I just sit down on the bench. What the hell is going on with me? Why am I like this? Was it really Sharky's fault? Did she do this to me? Or maybe it was Elon and Nola? They put that idea on my head. They turned me crazy, right? Or maybe it was my mom, who stopped loving me a long time ago? I just wanted a hug, but why didn't she give it to me?

...

...

...

No... it's all my fault. I was a bully before, so no wonder people don't generally like me. They're just afraid of me. They may think I'm crazy too, I don't know. Sharky was the only real friend I had. We were both bullies, so maybe she was also lonely. No, she had friends, or at least I think she did. I think that was just a peanut gallery now that I think about it. I don't recall her actually hanging out with anyone. I mean, she kept biting people. She peed on me and who knows who else she did that too. Nobody wanted to be her friend. But... I did. We became friends. I liked her. I loved her. I.... miss her...

...

...

...

All I can do now is cry. Nobody understands me. I just want someone to love me and not treat me like a weirdo. Stupid mom, what makes you better than me? I say Sharky was better than you, at least she was honest.

I hate you mom... I hate everyone... I hate... myself...

...

...

...

...

Someone's approaching me. Oh man, I don't want them to see me like this. Who is it?

Nola?