[Ryan]

I knew I'd ruin it. It was doomed before it even began. He's straight; always will be. It's not like I could've changed him. God, I'm so stupid. And now he'll never talk to me again...great. He'll stay away from the fag; wouldn't want to catch gay. Fuck.

Tayla was back to throwing herself at him. It made me sick. I couldn't sit there anymore, not just because of her. I went to sitting in the library, immersing myself with books as a distraction. I had to take my mind off him. It was pathetic, the way he was always on my mind. How I regretted letting him know. I miss him.

"Faggot!" My dad called, walking out into the hallway. I was walking up the stairs; I couldn't avoid him. I turned around to face him. "Yeah?" "Where the fuck's my alcohol, boy?" I shrugged. "It was here before; where'd it go?" He glared at me, as if I'd done something with it. "Did you drink it?" I asked timidly. "I think I'd fucking remember drinking it, you fuckwit."

"Obviously not." I muttered under my breath. Big mistake. "What gives you the fucking right to talk shit like that to me?" He roared, picking up an old vase of my mother's and throwing it at me. I ducked to avoid it, the broken pieces showering me. During this time, he ran over and began beating every bit of my he could get to; kicking, punching, scratching, screaming. I just took it.

It felt like hours before it finished. He walked out, leaving the door wide open. I began coughing, but it felt wet in my mouth. I looked to find blood. Shit. I basically crawled down the stairs, being unable to walk. Every bone and muscle in my body ached, and I was trying so hard to keep the tears back. The pain was almost unbearable.

I crawled out the door, but only made it to the sidewalk before collapsing, having no energy left. I could barely keep my eyes open, being so physically exhausted. I don't know how long I'd been lying there for, but I heard footsteps running in my direction.

They stopped when they reached me, kneeling down. I looked up to see Brendon, looking worried. "Help." I managed to get out. He leant down, his ear to my mouth. "Save me." I whispered before passing out, my body finally giving up.

I woke up in a bland, white room. A beeping noise filled my ears, a strong smell in my nose. I was still extremely sore. "Ryan!" Someone exclaimed, jumping from their seat; the screeching was loud in the almost silent room. I cringed. "You're alright!" They wrapped their arms around me in a gentle hug. "What happened?" My voice sounded croaky and rough. "I found you on the sidewalk. You looked horrible!" "Oh, thanks." Even in this state, I'm still a sarcastic smart ass. "Your dad?" He asked, but he already knew. I nodded, ignoring the pain I still felt.

"I'm just glad you're ok." He said, quietly, still holding onto me. I put my arms around him too. He crawled onto the bed and lay beside me, not letting go. Yeah, I'm pretty ok with this. I looked at him to find him staring back. Before I knew what I was doing, our lips connected.