In a small house on the suburbs of Berk, a small boy sat on his bed. His feet weren't long enough to touch the floor yet, but he was still growing. Light glittered strangely off his face, and it would take a practiced eye to see that he was crying. His face was motionless, stoic even, but you could see the tears trickling down his face if you looked hard enough.

The boy was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, a name given to him by his father in hopes that he would grow into it. But he hadn't. He remained small, puny, and weak. He had never felt more weak than now. His hopelessness grew, like a large pit it gnawed away at his emotionless facade.

If his mother was here, she would comfort him. She would brush the tears off his face, and hold him tight. She would whisper in his ear, and tickle him until he couldn't breath. But she wasn't here. She was...he didn't know where she was. His family had never really been religious people, so where was she now? Where did she go when she died?

It didn't matter; he told himself. She was gone now, never to come back. She would never comfort him again, she couldn't. And no one cared for him now. Not one...

Seven years later, and the same boy sits on the same bed. He's crying again, fat tears falling in his lap. He is different though. He wears long sleeves now, and he looks tired, and beaten. Dark circles shadow his eyes; a welt is showing on his cheek. His sweater hangs loosely off his thin frame, his face gaunt and shallow.

He is sobbing now, so hard his body is wracked with shaking. He slowly calms himself down, breathing hard. Carefully, he pulls his sleeve up to reveal the angry red lines that glare at him. Hiccup hurriedly pulls the fabric back down, disgusted. He doesn't know why he even bothers to cover them up anymore, it's not like anyone would care. They all hate him, they all wish he was dead. Hiccup isn't even sure if his dad still knows he's alive. In seven years, his father has only spoken three word to him. And the latter hasn't even looked at his own son in three and a half years.

Sighing, Hiccup sat heavily on his bed, the springs creaking. School that day was particularly bad. The regular group of bullies had cornered him at his locker, taunting him and shoving him. One of the teachers had walked past, smirking at Hiccup's pain. Maybe that's why Hiccup felt so bad, his own teachers not even caring if he lived or died.

The boy felt the familiar sinking feeling; the cumbersome weight on his chest, making him feel suffocated. Depression. Hiccup sighed again, reaching for the razor blade that sat on his desk, glinting in the setting sun. He turned it over in his hand. Such a small thing, really. Seeming almost innocent, if not for the trace of blood staining the edge. Who knew such a small thing could cause so much pain, but yet relieve it at the same time.

Definitely not Hiccup. Not the weak little failure who sat in the corner, trying so hard to be invisible. The perfect overachiever, getting straight A's and an unblemished record. The kid who sat by himself at lunch, ignored by all. The one who no one wanted, nor cared for.

But now, a year after the first cut, Hiccup knew exactly what the small piece of metal in his hand could do. He knew from experience and habit. And weakness won again. He held the blade tightly in his fingers, hovering inches over the skin. The blade stopped. Hiccup hesitated for a minute. Should he do it? He shook his head to clear his mind.

Slice.

The blade plunged down, a cut appeared. Pain flared from the broken skin.

Slice.

Another one, deeper this time.

Slice.

That was for being useless.

Slice.

That was for failing his mother, for killing her.

Slice.

Five seemed like enough for today. The pain made his arm feel as if it were on fire. The blood merged as it dribbled from each cut; smaller streams joining to form large ones. He stared transfixed for a minute as the scarlet liquid ran slowly down his arms. He sighed again and headed to the bathroom to clean up the mess of blood.

The cold water made his skin sting as the water invaded the gashes. The water turned red as it ran across his arm. Hemolosis, Mr. Bowman had said, trying to drill some knowledge of biology in his pathetic brain. That's what made the water red. The hemoglobin from the red blood cells tinting the water as the cells exploded.

Hiccup waited until the bleeding had mostly stopped before pulling his sleeves back down. The last time he hadn't...well, that sweatshirt was pretty much useless now. Still, he didn't think anyone would notice. They all hated him anyways. Why would they care if he was cutting as well? No, he didn't want anyone to know. It was more of a personal thing. The teen went back to doing his homework.

The school was utter chaos the next morning. Almost every student was gossiping about the same thing: a new girl had knocked two teeth from the lead bully's mouth while defending a middle schooler. Hiccup didn't care. All it did was distract his tormentors for a bit. They were to busy trying to woo her to pay him any attention.

In fact, he didn't even see her until Algebra. He sat in his usual seat in the corner of the room, keeping to himself and ignoring the ugly words the rest of the class said about him. He was startled by the smack of binders. The new girl had sat next to him. She had bright red hair, and startlingly blue eyes. "Hi, I'm Merida." she said, smiling at him. Her eyes were searching, inquisitive. Hiccup put on a fake smile, and introduced himself. Merida's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to figure him out.

Hiccup turned back to his drawing, shading in the face of a boy. In the picture, a boy sat on steps, laughing. His mother had a book, and she was covering a giggle by pretending to be reading it. The boy's father was roaring with laughter, slapping his hands on his knees. Merrida leaned closer to look at the drawing, taking in every detail.

Suddenly, a loud ripping sound tore through the room. Hiccup stood quickly, crumpling the picture and throwing it away. She gasped, shocked that he'd do such a thing. Why had he done that? Had he not liked it? Hiccup sat in his desk, opening his textbook to start his homework. He didn't look up until the bell rang to dismiss them to lunch.

Merida purposely dropped her folder, letting papers fall in a heap by her desk. Mumbling, she picked them up, shuffling and sorting them before putting them back. No one was left in the classroom. Perfect. She stopped at the trash bin just long enough to grab the drawing that Hiccup had thrown away. Maybe she could solve the mystery now...

At the lunchroom, her eyes swept the room, searching for Hiccup. She ignored the jerks that kept inviting her to sit with them, instead getting a tray laden with the toxic waste the school called "food". Merida spotted Hiccup sitting by himself at a table near the trash bins.

As she was walking toward him, a mean-looking girl walked up toward him, a banana peel in her hand. She tossed it at him, the slimy thing landing with a splat near his hands. "Oops, I thought you were the trash." she said, mocking him. Hiccup slowly and deliberately picked up the peel before dropping it in the trash.

As the girl walked past Merida, the latter stuck out her foot just so. Moments later, with a thump, the girl lay on the floor, the wind forced out of her lungs. She slowly picked herself up, wincing at the pain. She gave Merrida a dirty look before scurrying to gossip with her friends. Probably talking of ways to get back at her, Merrida thought.

Hiccup watched the scene out of the corners of his eyes, fascinated by Merrida's courage. Was she doing this to protect him? Or did she just feel bad for him? The girl in question sat down next to him, her tray clacking softly on the tabletop. Hiccup turned away, hoping that she wasn't here for what he thought she was here for. Maybe if he ignored her she would leave him alone.

Digging in her pocket, she dug out a piece of paper. Smoothing the creases out, Merida set the picture he'd been drawing in math class on the table. Hiccup looked at it, and tears started to prick at his eyes. How had she gotten it? She must have nabbed it after class ended. He pushed it away. Merrida pushed it back. "Why don't you want it? It's a beautiful picture." she whispered sadly. Hiccup shook his head. "Once upon a time, that was me. But no longer."

CLIFFHANGER! Sort of. Anywho, how did you like it? I'm thinking that I'm going to make this into a multiple-chapter story, but I might just leave it at that. But I hope not, because that's a pretty bad place to end. Oh well.

Anywho, I'm signing up for the first segment of driver's ed. I hope I can drive by the summer! That way Mom can sleep when she's tired from a fourteen-hour shift while I drive. And I'm now part of the drama club, so that should be fun. I can't wait, I love acting!

Story. Sorry. My goal is for each chapter to be at least 1,500 to 2,000 words long, the longer the better! This ones 1,548. I'm thinking the next chapter will be something about more Merriccup fluff, maybe Merrida will find out that Hiccup cuts. Who knows? And I have absolutely no idea where this'll end up, so I will take requests and your ideas. Thanks to all you lovely readers!

~Yours in Destiny, Joan McCreedy

Updated 1/12/16

Updated 2/18/16: Issues with writing style. Hope it's better!