Hello all! This story is based on personal experiences, and I think it'll kinda be therapeutic for me. The point of this fic is not to downplay things like self harm and mental illness (I would never do that, I'm mentally ill myself), it's a way to release some of my own feelings by making my babies go through them. If you ever feel like hurting yourself, please talk to someone. It'll save you so much heartache.

Anyway, let's begin this emotional roller coaster.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self harm, suicidal thoughts/actions, drug use, hospitalization, homophobic slurs

Arrogant boy,
Love yourself so no one has to,
They're better off without you,
They're better off without you.
Arrogant boy,
Cause a scene like you're supposed to,
They'll fall asleep without you,
You're lucky if your memory remains.

-Therapy by All Time Low

Will Solace knew three things:

1. People like Bryce Lawrence were not to be messed with.

2. He had to hide the bruises from his mom.

3. He hated his life, and he hated himself.

It had started out as a normal day. The thirteen year old woke up at six, got dressed, ate some cereal, and kissed his mom goodbye as he ran to the bus. When Will got to school, he kept his eyes down and earbuds in. It was best that way. But as he got to his locker, his eyes widened and he almost threw up. Clear as day, spray painted onto the locker:

FAGGOT

Will's eyes welled with tears, and he took a deep breath. He was never good with bullying. His heart was too soft, and the words cut too deep. Will never reported it, because he knew it would just get worse. He clenched his teeth and opened his locker, ignoring the snickers as he did so.

"It seems the queer is here today."

"He has no shame, does he?"

"That kid is gonna burn in hell…"

Will kind of hated living in Texas.

The rest of the day was a blur. He couldn't focus at all, probably because of his ADHD. All he could think about was the locker. Will had no idea how any of them had found out he liked boys, but they had, and everyone took every opportunity they could to make his life hell. He liked girls too, but they were having none of that. You were either gay or straight; none of that bisexual nonsense.

As Will scurried out of the school, a large hand landed on his shoulder.

Oh no.

"Hey, fag, where do you think you're going?"

Bryce Lawrence.

Will was spun around, his curly blond hair somewhat shielding him from Bryce's stare.

"I expect an answer when I ask you a question, fag." He sneered.

"I was going home." Will spat, glaring at the ground.

"No, now you're not." And with that, Will received a punch to the gut. Doubling over in pain, the thirteen year old clenched his fists. This wasn't fair. Bryce was stronger, taller, and Will couldn't hurt a fly, no matter how much he wanted to.

The torment lasted a few more minutes, with Bryce and his friends spitting insults and teachers looking the other way. When it was over, Will could taste blood in his mouth from the busted lip they gave him.

"Get outta here, you queer. Have fun burning in hell."

Will bolted.

At home, he quickly ran up to his room, making sure his mother couldn't see his face. It was worse than usual. Will touched the skin around his eye, knowing it was going to bruise. He was going to be a doctor, after all.

After cleaning himself up, the pent up frustration and adrenaline got the best of him.

It isn't normal or okay. It doesn't matter what your mother said, you're going to hell. You're disgusting.

Taking deep breaths, Will tried to quell the tears, but it didn't work.

You don't deserve to be alive.

He needed something, anything to numb the pain. He'd read an article a long time ago about how when a person bled, endorphins were released, and how people ended up hurting themselves on purpose to feel better. He remembered wondering how someone's life could end up that awful. How he'd never do that.

Past Will couldn't of been more wrong.

Digging around his room, Will eventually found what he was looking for. The pocket knife's blade glinted in the waning sunlight, and he took a deep breath. Pursed his lips, and brought the blade to his wrist. In one quick swipe, it was done. He watched the red bubble to the surface, mesmerizing him. It stung, but for a moment, Will forgot. He forgot about Bryce Lawrence and all his buddies, and how his grades were starting to slip, and even how he had no friends.

Then, he realized exactly what he'd done.

Panicking slightly, Will grabbed a tissue and pressed onto the cut. This was a fluke. This was a one time thing. He'd never do it again.

Will didn't know this was the calm before the storm.