This story has multiple triggers for drugs and cutting possible eating disorder and just a lot of dark thoughts in general. also swearing and possible Johnlock in later chapters this is AU. and it will be dark like very dark this first chapter is nothing compared to what Ive got up my sleeve so have fun. NO MAIN CHARACTER DEATH I promise.
John had never really been "happy" person. It didn't help the fact that his mother had died giving birth to him. something not only he blamed himself for, but also his father blamed him for as well.
When John was born his older sister was eighteen and leaving for her dream school that is until he "killed" their mother, and she went into a spiral. always drunk. always partying trying to forget that she would never see her mothers warm smile or hear her gentle laugh. so to help herself forget she moved out and left john to face his father's wrath alone. even when she was at home she was to wrapped up in her self-pity and inability to hold down a steady relationship that she never noticed the excessive amount of concealer her brother wore. or how her brother even in the hottest weather always had at least to layers on his thin frame. not that anyone else ever did.
No, no one ever noticed little John Watson. and now that he was fourteen john knew no one ever would. he had no plans for his future, he just assumed that one night his father would get to rough and maybe suffocate him.
'no that is a much to peaceful way for me to die.' John thought. 'maybe he will just keep hitting me until l I burst like a sack of flour. that is a better death for a - Murderer.' he spat in his head. and looked down at his arms they are littered with the thin red lines that just proved how worthless he is.
John was sitting in the large Dawn Redwood tree behind his fathers flat. it's where he went when he needed to cut. he knew if his father found out that he would think John was trying to kill himself, and that would result in a very bad beating 'you want to die you worthless fuck your mother is dead because of you and you plan on killing yourself and leaving me too, you little bitch.' john cringed at the thought. and returned to his attempt at finding and unmarred piece of skin. today had been particularly bad the kids at school had decided he was gay because he had not made any attempt to snog a girl all year, and he just couldn't bear the thought of his father hearing the rumor. john knew his father would probably attempt to beat it out of him, and it was already hard enough to hide his bruises now.
"JOHN" his fathers call broke him out of his reverie, and he immediately rolled his sleeve back down and jumped down.
"JOHN" his father called again.
"Coming father" john yelled.
when he enters their small living room he is thrown to the floor.
"WHEN I CALL YOU ANSWER, THE FIRST TIME" his father is red in the face and john could see the beer bottle in his hand. john had been on the bad end of a beer bottle once or twice and it was not fun. not that getting that beat with just his fathers feet and fists was fun but he deserved it, so he took it. luckily for john his father threw down the bottle and it shattered, he then gave john a nice kick to the stomach and proceeded to yell at him for killing his mother, and then told him to clean up the glass, kicked him again and went upstairs.
The next day, john woke to the sound of a truck. he slept on the couch so he opened his front door to see a moving van outside the house next door. no one had ever moved into 221 Baker street, and he is scared. what if they found out his father beat him. they wouldn't understand that he deserved it. they would just get his father locked up, and send him to live in a foster home somewhere. he couldn't let that happen.
He needed to think and in this house he always felt as if the walls were closing around him, so he went to his tree.
Perched up high like this he could breathe, he could think. what he thought about was last night. he pulled up his shirt and examined the bruises on his stomach and chest. they weren't that bad, he has had worse, but it wasn't what his father had done that troubled him it's what he had said. john had barely heard it but he could swear when his father was walking up the stairs he said
"Love is bullshit. Fuck that bitch for dying on me, and fuck caring."
Did his father really think that. john never believed in love, at least not for him. he is damaged goods a murderer that could never be charged, but did his father really believe that his mother had left them?
'No' he thought 'No his mother didn't leave them. it wasn't her fault, it was johns'
John sat in silence for a minute thinking about it reminding himself what he had done. before reaching into the branch he had hollowed out and pulling out his coping supplies.
Hi, so I hope you like this story so far. I was sitting on this idea for a while and I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I really hope you are enjoying it please leave a review saying if you want me to continue it or not a I have another Sherlock in progress as well it's called The damaged doctor and his returned angel. so check that one out too. please review I practically live on reviews. thank you so much for reading and I will try to update soon, Happy new year. BYE
-Sky
