Heya lovelies! I will update I Will Always Be Here soon. I got this idea and I hope it's a lot longer than what my other stories have been. I hope you guys enjoy!
I sat in class, reading like I usually do. I never really understood why people don't like reading. It's an escape from reality and can help you forget about your worries, but I guess that's just me.
I should probably introduce myself. My name is Daniel James Howell, but my friends call me Dan. Well, if I had friends. I'm a bit of a social outcast. Even at home I'm an outcast.
At home it's just me and my father. My mother died shortly after I turned five. After she died, my father began to drink heavily, which lead to him becoming abusive. So, to sum it all up, I have a tough time at school due to bullying and at home due to my father's drinking and abuse. Now that that's out of the way, let's get back the real story.
The bell finally rings, signaling that school is over. I take my time putting my books and things up. When I feel that it's safe, I head to my locker.
Just when I think I'm safe I hear footsteps and a voice say, "Oh look who we have here, Daniel Howell."
"Please leave me alone, Phil," I tell the ebony haired boy that is now leaning on the locker next to mine.
"Why on Earth would I want to do that?" He asked with a devilish grin on his face.
"Seriously, leave me alone. I have to get home." I squeak out of fear, as I begin to walk off.
"You're not getting away from me just like that. Grow a pair and stop running to your mommy for everything." He taunts me.
"Seriously, go fuck yourself," I squeak again.
He grabs me by the shoulder and slams me against the lockers and growls, "Don't you fucking dare talk to me like that ever again!"
"But you're allowed to talk to me like I don't deserve to be alive every single day?" I look at him with fury burning deep within my chest.
Even though he is a major dick to me, he has never actually hit me.
"Go fuck yourself, Howell," He spits and then walks away.
As soon as he is out of sight, I slide down the lockers until I'm sitting on the ground and begin to cry. Why did life have to be so hard? I just want to live a happy normal life.
When I finally get home, I'm late. My father was going to kill me. When I set my backpack down, I call out to my father, "Dad, I'm home. I'm sorry I'm late, something happened after school today!"
"You're late! You're 15 minutes late! What the bloody hell was so important that you had to be late!?" He screams at me, the smell of alcohol evident on his breath.
"I'm sorry. A kid asked me to help him with some of his homework that he did not understand," I quickly lie to him.
"Liar!" He screams louder as he draws his hand back. He sharply slaps me across the face. He then draws his fist back and hits me square in the jaw. He repeatedly slams his fist in to every inch of my body that he can reach.
He's too strong for me to fight back. He keeps punching everywhere he can. The last thing I remember is his fist connecting with the side of my head.
When I finally come to, I'm laying on my kitchen floor. My body hurts all over and my head is throbbing. I slowly get up, so that I don't hurt myself too much. If I had gotten up quickly I probably would have fallen and been down for the rest of the night.
When I finally get up, I head to the bathroom. I strip my clothes and look into my full body mirror. My body was covered in large blackish-purplish bruises and there was still a red, prominent hand mark across my face. I was going to need to wear a long sleeve shirt to hide the bruises, tomorrow.
I begin to run my shower water and then turn to the tiled wall. I bend down slightly and remove a loose tile from the wall, which strategically held a small blade. Years ago I had figured out a way to hide a small blade behind the tile. I take out my hidden blade and put the tile back
I slowly drag the shinny, little blade across my scarred wrists. I take my time as I watch the blood ooze out. The blood comes out a deep crimson and runs down m fingers and down into the water at my feet, where it mixes and becomes a light red color. I can't help, but let the thoughts of death invade my mind again. All I ever wanted was peace. I wanted this life to stop being so hard.
I grab the blade tighter as I my cuts begin to travel higher from my wrist until they reach the inside of my elbow. I begin to cry again. Why was this the way that I had to remind myself that I was still alive? I want to find love and get away from this place forever. I want someone that can take this blade away and make me realize that I don't need it nor did I ever need it.
The tears that are flowing from my eyes fall onto my wrists and sting. I grit my teeth as I cry harder. The tears mix with blood as I continue to think about death. Death would be so much easier than this. Maybe tomorrow would be the day that I decide to relive myself from this burden that we call life.
I carefully wash my arms off and then finish my shower. I put my blade back in it's place and get out of the shower. I make sure there is no sign off my pervious actions in the shower and I head to my room.
When I reach my room I unwrap my towel from my body and I get dressed. I carefully wrap my cut arms up before I put on my t-shirt. I bite my lip as I lay down and cry myself to sleep.
So what did you guys think so far? More to come soon! Feedback is always welcome! Thank you guys for reading chapter 1! More to come soon! Thank you, lovlies ~Smoshy-Timelord