Well, hello there! I know how some people hate author notes but too bad.
I am fixing up all of the chapters a bit, not too much though. I'm just fixing little mistakes. But I have another chapter halfway typed up so that will be up soon. I apologize so much for leaving all of you. You have all been lovely and very supportive.
Here you go!
Chapter 1: Living Hell since 5th Grade (Age 10)
It had been another horrible day for Arthur. At school, no one ever listened to what he said, and if he ever yelled at the bullies, he would get beat up even worse. Arthur wasn't very weak though; the bullies were just stronger. And then, if Arthur got anything lower than a B, even if it was just a B-, his teachers would yell at him and slap him after class because he was the student body president and had to look good. But that wasn't all.
When Arthur arrived home, it was even worse. He walked threw the front door, removed his jacket and shoes, and put them in their respective place as quietly as possible. Just as he was about to go upstairs to hide from what he knew was inevitable, a loud Irish accent rang through Arthur's ears.
"Oh. The faggot is back! Great." His older brother, Scott, called out with sarcasm, glaring at Arthur.
"Scotty, don't be so nice! He's so worthless, he doesn't even deserve to be called that." Arthur's mother spoke, disgust clearly shown in her face and voice. "How did I ever give birth to something like him?!"
"I'm sorry for being so worthless and for being born, Scott, Mom." Arthur said blankly, standing at the bottom of the staircase, just waiting for the inevitable abuse so he can get over it and sleep.
"Sorry? You don't understand how horrible we feel because of you!" Arthur's mother pointed accusingly at him. "All of because of you! Society looks down on our family because of you! You're a disgrace to our family!" She walked over to Arthur angrily and slapped him. Arthur just stood still.
"Not gonna fight back, eh, faggot?" Scott smirked and kicked him in the back of the knee. Arthur fell to the wood floor face first, fighting back tears the best he could. This had been going on for years. Since 5th grade, this "living hell", as Arthur called it, had been going on. Arthur is now in 10 grade and he had no clue as to how it all started.
After an hour or so of Arthur's mother and his oldest brother, Scott abusing him, Arthur went into his room. He trudged over to his dresser and pulled out a dagger. He had got it in 4th grade from his brother, Allister, who had been the second oldest. It was supposed to be a remembrance of him, to be strong and fight back, but now all it made Arthur think of was the pain and suffering he went through. Arthur got the dagger the day before Allister died in a car accident. Arthur was the only one who knew it wasn't an accident. Allister was diagnosed with depression when he was in 7th grade. He had gone to the doctor alone so nobody knew, especially because of how well at acting he was.
Arthur thought of Allister and how he missed him, and one perfect tear slid down his face as he slid the shiny, recently sharpened dagger over his wrists. The blood trickled down onto his once snow white carpet, but now is mostly brown with spots of white. Arthur unbuttoned his pants, slid them off, then threw them to the side. He brought the dagger to his thighs and sliced the flesh. It hurt the most when he cut there. It hurt more than anywhere else. And he cut everywhere. He didn't even know why though, other than he was addicted to it. Arthur just didn't need a reason to cut anymore.
He just did it whenever. When he was bored and didn't want to do homework he would just cut the palm of his hand and watch the blood appear and trickle down his arm; when he was tired and needed to stay up so he could finish homework, when his family just abused him, when he came home and school had been hell, when he looked in the mirror and saw what he truly couldn't stand to seeāhis actually quite handsome and charming, lean, body and his massive eyebrows with piercing emerald eyes that always showed how he was truly feeling. All Arthur saw was pathetic, worthless, hideous, obese, fucked up, dirty, stupid blonde.
Arthur finally let himself just cry and cry, and even though his tears blurred his vision, he still cut as much as he could. His wrists, his thighs, his arms, his stomach, and even his back. He was so dizzy when he was done that he just fell to the ground and fell asleep. He wished he was dying, but he knew better than that. The only person who ever loved Arthur was Allister and he's gone now. All Arthur could do was hope... Hope that tomorrow would be better.
So uh...Yep! That was depressing, wasn't? Review please? Maybe even tell your friends? It is very much appreciated if you do.
And, if you ever need someone to talk to, I am here for you!
Love, Namie
