This is a story that I'm currently still writing. I hope you guys will enjoy it :3
I OWN NOTHING.
Bored. Jim was always bored. He looked around his small, compact room. There wasn't much inside, just a few pieces of furniture. He never did like his room. It held memories that he'd rather forget. His childhood hadn't exactly been easy. Jim's father was an alcoholic and had abused him and his mother on several occasions. He shuddered at the recurring thought of his father hitting him repeatedly. But he wasn't a problem anymore. Jim had taken care of that. Came home drunk they said. Fallen down the stairs they said. A smile crept on his face as he remembered how gleeful he was after pushing that drunken sod to his "untimely" death.
Unfortunately his first day of boarding school was rolling up at a fast pace. Tomorrow he would be stuck in a room with some boring cretin for a whole term. He groaned into his pillow.
"Jimmy dear! Are you alright?" His mum, Claire called from the stairs. After she walked in on him bleeding to death after cutting himself, she made a habit out of checking on him.
"Fine mum!" He snapped. She was a weak woman from being beaten down by her husband so much. Jim hated people that were weak. He rolled over in frustration and fell into a tense, uncomfortable sleep.