Concrete Angel
He was always alone. Always has been. Always will be. He had two best friends. But names don't mean a thing. 'A best friend?' he thought to himself, 'No such thing' he concluded. He walked down the street, lost in his own world, nothing mattered to him, nothing. He had no family to care for, and none of his friends could care less about him, 'they don't see the real me' he screamed inside. When he finally came out of his daze he looked up to find hi secret place, it was a beautiful scene, and it was a wonder no one had ever found it before. So he claimed it as his own.
[[..This is what life should look like..
It was amazing, a large willow tree had its braches drooping over a calm lake, and the sun was setting behind it. He sat at the tree's trunk. Thinking. Like he always did.
[[..Why am I so unlovable?..
The question ran through his mind several times before he found the answer. "I'm a freak," he whispered to himself. His vision became blurry as water filled his eyes, but he could not cry. No tears could fall. He never felt anything. No emotion was found.
[[..Am I incapable of love?..
He smiled, to his friends, but it was a mask, nothing more. The mask hid his true feelings, what he was really like. The stone he had become.
[[..That's why they see through me..
It wasn't long ago. It happened when he was seven. That dreadful day. That time he felt emotion. The day he was unwanted. His mother was sweet, caring; he did everything he could to help. His father had died when he was a baby. He was truly happy back then, the laughter, the joy, until his mother threw it back in his face.
[[..What did I do?..
He looked at his arm, the bruises, scratches and cuts. Yet he never hit a thing. His ears tingled from the screaming. But he never said a word. He breathed heavily. But he never had asthma. His heart pace quickened. Yet he didn't see a thing. His eyesight was watery. But he never shed a tear.
[[..Am I in they way?..
Walking home, he took his time. People passed him, but he didn't care. He didn't want to go home, he didn't want to see the anger in his mother's eyes. But he had too. He had to go home, and when he did he was greeted with a slap. His cheek burned, as it quickly turned red. He looked at his mother, a longing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but only choked, and the words were lost.
[[..Is this my life?..
[[..Am I an inconvenience?..
[[..Am I a burden?..
[[..Do I want to live this way?..
His mother looked at him sternly as he rubbed his burning cheek. He caressed the skin with his coarse hand, only to be beaten to the ground. But he was strong. He held onto the belief that he would be saved. He was a stone. Concrete. His leg twisted. His arm cut. His head bruised. His breath became quiet. His heart became weak. He heard nothing. She saw black.
[[..This is my life..
[[..I am an inconvenience..
[[..I am a burden..
[[..I don't want to live this way..