Chapter 1: Chosen
Nox walked into class, his shoulders already slumped. It was just another day, which meant it was going to be bad.
His uniform, once a standard blue, was now a mess of faded patches and old, stubborn stains. He washed it every night, scrubbing until his knuckles were raw, but it never looked clean. It was like the dirt was part of the fabric now, a permanent reminder of everything.
Over years of this, something inside him had just... stopped. He didn't feel much anymore. It was easier that way.
He sat at his usual desk in the back, trying to make himself small. Ms. Joy was at the front, droning on about something he couldn't bring himself to care about. He could feel their eyes on him, though. He always could. Whispers followed him like shadows.
"Look at him," someone snickered from a few rows over. "Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster."
"Probably does," another voice added, louder this time.
Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.
Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face.
"Oops," he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt.
The cold liquid soaked through instantly.
Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking.