Prologue

I sat in the corner of my dark room, pressing myself against the wall and closing my eyes. I heard my front door slam and I pulled my knees in closer to my chest and tried to disappear. Please not tonight. Please. Give me a break for just one night. I thought desperately. I could hear my dad’s heavy footsteps on the stairs as he came closer. Please don’t come in here. Leave me alone. Go into your own room. Please, anything but this again. I don’t even know why I bother to think this. I’ve been thinking the same thing every night for almost ten years and it’s never made any difference. I heard my dad shout my name in a slurred voice. Oh how I hate that name. It’s just another thing that links me to him. My door swung open and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that I could somehow make myself invisible but knowing that it wouldn’t work. My dad lifted me up by my hoodie and threw me back against the floor. ‘Where the fuck have you been all day you little shit!?’ he screamed at me. My dad always screams at me. I can’t ever remember hearing his voice when he wasn’t screaming or his speech wasn’t slurred. That’s just how he is I suppose. ‘Well? Where the fuck have you been?’ he asked again, kicking me in the stomach with every word. ‘School’ I managed to gasp, before deciding to concentrate on breathing. He laughed mockingly and carried on kicking and punching me, generally taking out his anger on me because that’s what I’m here for isn’t it? Somehow he manages to never leave a mark on my face, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hit me there too he just doesn’t leave a mark because then everyone would see. ‘School? Why the fuck do you even bother? You’re never going to make anything of yourself! You’re just a good for nothing little shit with no talent and serves no fucking purpose by being alive in the fucking first place!’ He stopped his attack on me for a few seconds before something heavy hit me in the stomach. I covered my head with my arms to protect it while he was throwing anything he could find at me. When he ran out of things to throw he picked me up and threw me against the floor again. I cried out in pain. I don’t think I weigh much; I haven’t eaten anything for five days now, which wasn’t unusual for me. He started his physical attack on me again and I cried out. ‘Dad, please stop!’ I pleaded to him all the time but he never listened. This really was too much. My already half-starved, sleep deprived body couldn’t take this much pain night after night. It didn’t help that my frame was so frail either. ‘Do you know what George?’ my dad asked. I didn’t bother answering. ‘This is all your fault! Your fucking whore of a mother left me and she left me with you. What the hell am I supposed to do with you? Obviously she doesn’t want you but how could she think that I’d want a useless piece of shit like you? So do you know what you can do? You can go slit your fucking wrists and fucking die because I don’t want you. Nobody wants you and no one ever fucking will!’ he kicked me again before slamming the door on his way out of my room, leaving me in complete darkness. I stayed exactly where I was for a few minutes crying silently. I knew he was right. For almost ten years I’ve had this. Some people wound call me insane for staying but he’s my dad and he loves me, I know he does. I sat up slowly, pain shooting through my body as I stood up and took a blade out of the box on my window ledge. I ran the sharp edge slowly over the skin on my arms, finding control in what I was doing. I can’t tell anyone what’s happening, they’d take me away from him and I couldn’t stand that. Someone needs to look after him when he needs it and he’s technically the only family I’ve got left. Also if they took me away from him then I’d never see my friends again and I couldn’t bear the thought of that, even though they’ve all come dangerously close to working out what’s going on when I get home. I feel like I’m screaming but no one can hear. I’m hurting so much and it feels like I cant cope. Cutting helps me cope, the release I feel is just enough for me to cope. It gives me a sense of power over my body and a control that I don’t have anywhere else in life and also I need to be punished. If my dad hates me so much then I must’ve done something wrong. I always feel guilty afterwards but I have to do it. Otherwise I’ll die. I repeat the ritual a few more times before putting the blade back in its box. I watch the blood run from the four long, deep cuts I’ve made. Four more scars to add to the collection. I look away and cover them over with the sleeve of my hoodie. I can’t look at them anymore, I feel too guilty. I check the time. It’s 2.30am. I sigh and decide to try and get some sleep. I have school in the morning.


Do i continue? Y/N?

This message has been edited. Last edited by: livingoutthedream,

yes please continue but can you put it into paragraphs please

quote:

can you put it into paragraphs please

I have to agree with this.

But yes. Continue please!

Wow that is insense. It would help if there were paragraphs though, it would be a lot easier to read :]]]

Chapter 1- Ryan’s POV

‘I can’t wait until tonight! It’s gonna be soooo amazingly fun and I’m gonna have soooo much sugar and OH MY GOD! RAIN!!!’ Brendon laughed as the rain started to fall all around us.
We were walking to school, or rather I was walking whilst Brendon was bouncing and running and spinning round and talking at light speed. Tonight we were having a band sleepover at his house and he was excited, which isn’t unusual. He always seems to be excited about something. Even if it’s because he’s just seen a cat. I laughed softly to myself as I watched him jump in the newly formed puddles and spin round in circles. We all teased him about being gay. He never actually said he was, but at a guess he’s about as straight as curly fries. I smiled and shook my head as he attempted to catch raindrops on his tongue. He’s one of those people with the rare ability to make you smile, even when everything is shit. I like him, and when I say that I mean I really like him. After a succession of Unhealthy and badly ended relationships with many girls, which had left me with a broken heart, and the loss of my virginity I have drawn one conclusion. I’m gay. This conclusion had been reinforced by a relationship with a boy called Andrew and a one-night stand with another boy called Chris. You wouldn’t think it if you saw me. I’m your typical ‘emo’ kid. I wear skinny jeans and converse, band tees and hoodies all the time. I wear heavy eye makeup in various patterns, which is unusual for a boy I suppose but it helps express my emotions even if other people don’t realise it and almost all my clothes are dark colors. Also unlike the other ‘emo’ kids I have the scars to go with the stereotype.
‘Ryan, we’re late!’ Brendon said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I smiled. ‘You called me Ryan.’ I pointed out to him. A few months back I’d asked everyone I knew not to call me George anymore but to use my middle name instead. Spencer and Jon had been fine with it, so had their families even Brendon's family called me Ryan now. Everybody did, except Brendon. He’s extremely adverse to change and didn’t like the idea at all so he insists on still calling me George. He doesn’t know why I want to get rid of my name; no one does, so he doesn’t know what effect it has on me when he uses it. I don’t hold it against him though because if he knew the reason he’d call me Ryan instead. ‘Well you weren’t responding when I called you George, which is your name’ he said defensively and then rolled his eyes. ‘Why do you want to change it anyway?’ he asks me this almost every day. I sighed ‘I’ve told you. I don’t want my dads name.’ He looked at me sideways. ‘That, is a terrible excuse’ thankfully I was saved from answering back because we had arrived at class. ‘After you’ I said holding the door open. He smiled and rolled his eyes before entering the room with me following behind.
***************************************

I sat down at the lunch table and sighed. Jon and Spencer were arguing over something stupid like they normally do and Brendon was drinking yet another red bull. He frowned at me when I sat down. ‘You’re not eating?’ he asked accusingly. ‘No’ I answered simply. This would be my sixth day without food. I don’t want to eat I don’t see the point. Not eating is like cutting I can use it to punish myself and it gives me control. I need to keep that control because I have no other kind of control in my life.
‘George, I haven’t seen you eat in almost a week. I’m worried about you; you’re too skinny to not eat.’ I glared at him for using my hated name. ‘I don’t want to eat, Brendon.’ He gazed at me intently; his head on one side like it always is when he’s thinking. ‘Why not?’ he asked softly he knows something is wrong, I know he does, but I’m scared of letting anybody into my life because I know if he finds out about my dad he’ll get angry and do something that will make my dad hate me even more. I sighed ‘I just don’t okay?’ I saw the anger flash momentarily in his eyes. You can tell exactly what he’s feeling by looking at his eyes, the only problem is, once I look into them it’s almost impossible for me to look away. It’s like he traps me and I can’t get away until he lets me go. He also has the amazing talent of reading people easily, something I worry about constantly because if anyone’s going to work out what’s happening to me it’s him.
‘No it’s not okay. You need to eat something.’ He was being authoritive and pleading with me at the same time. ‘No, I don’t. I’ve survived so far, I’m sure one more day won’t kill me’ he’s angry, I can see it in his eyes, which I’m still staring into. I can also see him clenching his teeth. ‘Why are you doing this Ryan?’ he asked, using my chosen name because he knows it’ll get to me. I shook my head. ‘You’ll never understand’ I whispered so quietly I was sort of hoping he wouldn’t hear. He opened his mouth to reply but Spencer cut him short. ‘What are we doing tonight then?’ he asked. ‘I don’t know’ Brendon replied without taking his eyes off mine. Sometimes I think he know that I can’t look away until he lets me. ‘Are you’re parents going to be home?’ Jon asked. Brendon intensified his gaze before turning away and smiling at Jon. ‘Nope, my mom dad and Alice have gone to my Aunts.’ We all smiled and spent the rest of lunchtime making plans for tonight.
Staring into Brendon's eyes for so long left me kind of stupefied, like when a rabbit gets caught in the headlamps of a car. I hardly looked up for the rest of lunchtime, but when I did I caught Brendon looking at me in a way that left me with an uneasy feeling in my stomach that had nothing to do with not eating. I couldn’t help but feel that he knew something he shouldn’t.


better?

quote:

Originally posted by Panic in Wonderland:
Wow that is insense. It would help if there were paragraphs though, it would be a lot easier to read :]]]

intense is what i aimed for

A little bit better, You need to ... Actually give me 15 minutes and I'll post a thread about posting a fic *No offense intended*

quote:

Originally posted by CAZ the OMEGALOMANIAC!:
A little bit better, You need to ... Actually give me 15 minutes and I'll post a thread about posting a fic *No offense intended*

None taken if i can improve it then i will

Haha, aweosme. Hopefully it should help everyone with posting a fic, Grammar issues and overall presentation

i likes it

That is good! continue please.

lol i'm resisting the urge to put up all the chapters i've written in one go.

Wow, this is really powerful!
I likes it too. ^-^

-new reader-

i love it
update soon please