[A/N: This is my first fic! It used to be on my other account (which I've abandoned) so now it's here. I should probably mention that this has multiple triggers in it, like self harm, attempted suicide, molestation, mentions of rape, abuse, and eating disorder. Some parts are horribly OOC, too. :/ Meh, I tried. That is all.

January 23rd

"Dear Diary,
Today wwas the wworst day I'vve had in a wwhile. Someone came up to me after school an decided to beat me up. I think I havve a broken nose. They hit me an kicked me an yelled words like stupid, ugly, an fat. Then they called over more people an it just got wworse... They all threw rocks at me and called me a "disgustin pompous little faggot". I don't evven knoww howw I managed to get awway, but I did, an I'm safe... at least for noww."

I close my journal and put it back in its place, under my bed, then throw my purple pen across the room. It marks the powder blue walls with an ugly streak of ink. Heh.. just like me.. I think. I get up from my messy, violet-sheeted bed to get some food. I slowly open the door, like I do every day, even though there's never anything or anybody in my house anymore. I guess it's just a habit now. I walk down the long hallway, but stop halfway down it and look at myself in the mirror. Jeez, I look like shit. I have a black eye, and my hair is messy and filled with dirt. My cheek is blood-stained and I was right about my nose being broken. I sigh and turn back towards the kitchen. Groups of people like them have picked on me ever since I started school here.

I walk through the small room, not feeling anywhere near as hungry as usual, and grab a bowl from the cabinet, filling it with only some lettuce. I don't even bother to grab salad dressing. I grab a fork and head back to my room. I stop at the mirror again, noticing that I looked sort of... different. I set the bowl down on a table near me and go back to the table, lifting up my shirt. I was surprised at the sight. Wow... when did this happen..? I look a little overweight. I'd always been a little pudgy, but I've never looked like this. I suck my stomach in as much as possible, but there's almost no effect. I squish it around, thinking, and feeling completely, utterly, horrible. I sigh and pull my shirt back down and walk back to my room, falling onto the bed and falling asleep soon after.
I never grab the salad. I don't eat that night.

When I wake up in the morning, I check my clock and immediately make my way to the shower. I probably still looked horrible, seeing how I never washed up last night. I begin to undress, trying to ignore the cold air that's always in my house. For a bit, I just stand in the shower, feeling the warm flow of water on my body. It was quite pleasant, actually. For a moment, I feel like I have nothing to worry about. However, any good thoughts I have are soon replaced with the memory of yesterday and I begin to tear up. I wipe my eyes. No, don't cry. You're not that weak. I make myself a mental note to avoid whoever beat me up yesterday, feeling upset that I had never got a good look at that one guy's face. After about ten minutes, I shut off the water and climb out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. I slowly make my way back to my room to dress once I'm mostly dried off, stopping in front of the mirror again (although I tried to avoid it). What I see makes me feel worse about myself, because what that guy had said was right. I'm a stupid, ugly, faggot, And I was horridly fat. For some reason, those words stung in the back of my mind. "Fat, ugly, garbage; you fucking worthless faggot." I shake my head and walk back to my room. Once inside, I peek out the door once more and then close and lock it, letting my towel slip off my waist as I find some clean clothes. After a few minutes of searching, I find an outfit. First, as I'm sliding on my purple-plaid print boxers, I stub my toe on my dresser.

"Cod..fuckin' damnit.." I hiss. Next, I pick up my pants, dark blue jeans with black pinstripes. Then comes my shirt: a black long-sleeve with a violet Aquarius symbol on it. I put it on, being careful not to have it catch on my horns. I put on my glasses. They're large and sort of square, and the frame is thick. It's a good thing I've memorized the interior of my house; I can't see shit without them. Then, I slick my hair back like I always do, slide on my few rings and then take my scarf from its hook and wrap it around my neck. As I grab my shoes, the awful words echo in my mind once again. "You fat sack of shit." I really am worthless. I'm ugly and stupid and fat... I think. I skip breakfast that morning, grabbing my schoolbag and walking out the door.

On the way to school, I run into my best friend, Karkat Vantas. He's pretty short. If I wanted to, I could rest my elbow on his head (but why would I want to do that?). He's also almost always really angry about something. Sometimes, it's nothing. He has the nubbiest horns and wears a black turtleneck with a gray Cancer sign on it. As soon as we start walking together, he questions me.
"Dude, what happened to you?" he asks, in his ridiculously loud voice. My face contorted slightly. He always sounded like he was yelling, even when whispering. That's probably the reason that no one ever tells him secrets. With his big mouth, they'd obviously get out.

"Some assholes decided to beat me up after school, but I'm fine. Don't w-worry." I reply. I hate my stutter. For some reason it only happens when I try to say W's. I also can't say V's correctly. Those come out as normal W's. I have no idea why. I notice Karkat- or Kar, as I call him- frowning a little.

"Do you remember what they look like? I can get Gamzee to kick his ass for you," he offered. Gamzee, my other friend (well, sort of friend) is a tall guy, probably over six feet, and he's always wearing face makeup. He may look a little scrawny, but he's a lot stronger than he looks. One time he almost broke a guy's wrist when he was angry by just grabbing and twisting it.

"No, it's fine. I can't remember the faces anyw-way," I say.

"Okay, let me know if you spot him or if you change your mind."

"W-will do."

We walk in silence for a time after that. I look around at the scenery to get my mind off of things. I noticed that the air was cold and damp around us. Great. It's gonna rain soon.. I think, remembering that I forgot an actual jacket. All I'm wearing is my shirt and scarf. They sky was filled with light gray clouds, that got darker in the distance. I continue walking until I feel something tug at my hand.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Kar yells, pulling me away from the road. I didn't notice that I had almost crossed the street while the light was still green, and there were cars everywhere. "You're kind of out of it, today. Are you sure you're okay?" I could hear the hint of concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, really," I say, giving him a small smile. He sighs.

"If you say so. Now, wait for the light this time, douchebag." I chuckle lightly and wait with him for the light to turn red. When it does, we run across the street. There's never enough time to walk across this street. It's almost always busy. I look in the distance. We were almost to school.

When we got there, it had begun to rain. Everyone was inside for the few minutes that they give us before the school day started. When we finally found the rest of our friends, I look instantly for one person. As soon as I spot him, I walk over.

"Hey, Sol," I say cheerfully.

"Thup, fishdick?" replied an extremely attractive, tall troll, with the best red and blue eyes, and the cutest lisp ever. His name is Sollux Captor, and I am completely, head-over-heels in love with him. Of course, I could never admit this.

"I just w-wanted to say hi and ask how-w you are. So.. how-w are you?" I asked, trying not to get caught up in his features. He has neat hair and two sets of horns, the front larger than the back. His glasses were red and blue, the same as his eyes. He wore a t-shirt with a yellow Gemini sign on it that hung down slightly past his collarbones, and gray skinny jeans, along with one black shoe and the other white. He was just so fucking perfect. I sighed internally, knowing that there's no way he could feel the same. His feelings for me are strictly platonic.

"ED." he says sternly. I snap out of my thoughts, looking up at him. When did I start looking at the ground? "Dude, are you even lithtening?"

"Yeah, sorry," I say, careful not to let him know of my feelings. "I just havve somethin' on my mind." My speech impediment is making me feel like I'm fucking stupid. Ugh. I internally facepalmed at what I said. Now he's gonna question me.

"I thaid I'm doing pretty good. And you?" Or not.

"I'm doin' okay."

"Well, that'th good," he replied. Luckily, before I could say something to fuck this up, he turned back to the others. By 'the others', I mean Kar, Gamzee (or Gam), and Tavros. Tavros has been in a wheelchair for a few months now, since his robot legs that he had made for him broke. He kept wearing them, though, so he doesn't look like a random torso on a wheelchair. They keep covered by his long pants. I have most of my classes with him, so we usually walk together. His horns are wide, though, so I have to keep at least three feet to the side of him to avoid being jabbed. Everyone suddenly begins talking at once, as if we hadn't seen each other in months, though it had only been a day. Nobody questions my wounds. Then, the bell rings, and we make our way to our lockers. I part from everyone to get to my own before everyone else does, that way I'm not shoved up into any lockers by anybody. I begin to put in my combination. 45...12...

"Hey, faggot!" said a mean voice at the other end of the hall. It was the guy from yesterday. A few others giggle, and I can tell that it's the whole group. Just ignore them... I told myself, starting my combination over. Forty... five? Right... Then what?

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" The voice was coming closer. I desperately fumbled with my lock. Damnit! What's the combination? I can't remember! Shiiiiitttt... Forty- My thoughts were interrupted by a hand pressing me against the wall next to the lockers. Oh, how I wish the teachers were up here already, but no, they have to take their sweet-ass time. I look at the guy's feet, and try to ignore him. Bad move.

"Hey, are you deaf or something? I'm talking to you, fattie!" I just tune him out. Everyone else had to be up there soon, right? They'd see what was happening and stop them. But wait.. Gamzee's locker is downstairs, and everybody else is on the other side of the wing. Dammit! "Hey, shitstain!" The boy slaps me, almost knocking my glasses to the floor. Another one of them pokes my stomach.

"Look how scared he is!" called one of the girls. Her disgusted tone wasn't making me feel any better. The first guy pulled my shirt up, stopping below my ribs, and slapped my stomach. "That's so gross!" screeched the same girl.

"Hey, fag, you should cut down on the sweets! Soon you won't even fit in the chairs here!" he laughed. Laughed. Why was he being entertained by my suffering? I keep looking at the floor. "Hey, what's this?" he asked, prying my purple book bag off of my shoulders and back. I stiffened, hoping that they won't go through it. But of course, they do. They throw my textbooks to the floor, along with a few pencils. Luckily, I hadn't brought my iPod today. Then, they find my notebook. I want to scream. I want for my friends to show up, for anyone to show up, but for some reason the hallway is mostly empty, and already pretty loud. And if they showed up, I'd just be called a wimp for not sticking up for myself, but I..I can't..

"Oh my God! Get a load 'a this! Fattie here actually is a fag!" snorts one of the other boys. My knees start to shake. I can't move, or say anything, let alone scream. "Look, Matt! He's drawing his fucking boyfriend!" I feel myself go pale. I still can't choke out any noises. Someone... help me..
The one called Matt looks at my notebook and starts to crack up. Meanwhile, I'm about a minute away from tears. Suddenly, he throws the notebook at me, and it knocks off my glasses. My knees give out and I fall to the ground, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. I still refuse to look at him. He gives me a last, extremely hard, extremely painful blow to the face with his palm.

"See you later, faggot." Matt says, and then they leave. As they walk away, I try to pull myself together. "He's disgusting!" I am visibly shaking. "Fucking faggot!" My hands a trembling so violently that I can't find my glasses. "Wanna beat on him again later?" I take a few deep breaths, focusing on not hyperventilating. I can't let my friends see me like this.. They'd question me, wondering why I was so shaken by only a few hits. Then, I'd have to explain to them about.. 'Mom'... I calm down a few minutes later, finally. The teachers begin making their ways upstairs. I retrieve my scattered school supplies, then turn back around, and with a semi-steady hand, put in my locker combination. 45...12...23...
The lock clicks and I open my locker, grabbing my things for first period, Study Hall. stand up and see Tav wheeling towards me. I give him a smile. He smiles back, and I make my way to him. We then down the hallway to the elevator. I walk in with Tav behind me, and I press the button to go downstairs.

Once in study hall, I boredly took out my notebook- the one those jerks had stolen earlier- and flip to a fresh page, making sure no one can see what's inside. I finish all my work on time, so study hall is kind of pointless to me. I usually use it for drawing practice or for some reading. I began to draw the base for a person with my pencil. I thought about what that jerk 'Matt' had said earlier and I felt some twisted mixture of sadness and rage. Before I could begin drawing, the teacher left the room and Tav passed me a note, while others texted.

hEY
hi tavv
uH,, wHO ARE YOU DRAWING?
i dont knoww yet
iTS GONNA BE SOLLUX,, iSNT IT
wwhat no wwhy wwould you think that
i SAW SOME OF YOUR DRAWINGS,, tHEYRE ALL OF HIM
pLUS, iVE SEEN THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HIM
yOU LIKE HIM,, uH, dONT YOU?
...okay maybe a little
i WOULD HELP BUT i HAVE NO IDEA HOW. sORRY
its fine. thanks anywway

The teacher walks back in, and I look back at my notebook, trying to push earlier's thoughts of 'Mom' out of my mind. I decided to try to draw Sollux again. I began to add to the base, drawing in the basic body shape before the face, hair, and clothes. I sighed in my head. He was so easy to draw. I had drawn him at least 20 times, or at least doodled his name. I close my notebook after shading in my drawing and look at what's on my desk. There's a few folders, two pencils, and a novel of Shakespere's Romeo and Juliet. I've probably read it over ten times. It was my favorite book. Shakespere really was a great playwright and writer in general. I read a few pages, but then the bell rings for my next class. The next few periods before lunch zip by as usual, and soon, I'm putting everything in my locker and walking to the cafeteria. Alone.