Scars

When I was about 14 or 15 (I'm not sure) I went to the most expensive school in my district. And I hated it.
It was the sort of school where if you weren't academic or sporty, the teachers didn't like you and you didn't fit in.
A few months prior, I'd gotten my first Bass guitar and started my first band. Being so excited to be in a band, I got big headed and got kicked out. I still have a very negative relationship with the lead singer based on it.
On this particular day, I can't remember exactly what happened but some how I fell foul of a year 12 who put their hands round my neck. I was a large boy, both in height and fat, but I had enough muscle to shove the student away and run.
At the time, I had little to fall back on. My family disliked me and I had few, if any friends, so if I was upset, I really couldn't take it.
I walked off campus crying, after the kids I thought were my friends had done nothing to stand up for me. I sat by the spot I usually waited to be picked up at and, I'm sorry to say, cut myself intentionally. After a while, a teacher spotted me. Unfortunately it was my least favorite teacher. It was well known around the school that he had little man syndrome, standing three inches shorter than me, he had a hatred for me since the day I started there.
Luckily for me, he'd received a blow to the head the day before, so he got a different teacher to come down for me. As soon as he was out of sight, I took of to the other side of campus. Unfortunately I was spotted by the one teacher that cared about me, and he followed me. I did everything I could to shake him off, but not being fit by any stretch of the imagination, he kept up easily.
Eventually, I ran out of breath and stopped. He took me to the office and then noticed my cut. I refused to tell him how I got it, and he assumed from my past history that I'd done it to myself intentionally.
This resulted in me being suspended from school for two days. I spent those days in one of the head teachers offices, under constant supervision so I couldn't self harm again.
Following that day, if I wore gloves going below my wrist of was holding my wrist, the three teachers involved would always force me to display that they weren't cut, or if they were, provide a reason why.
The worst cut from that day was actually between my thumb and index finger on the back of my left hand. It has scared, but is only really visible if I point it out.