Unloved

Summary: Everyone has left or ignored the eighteen-year-old Zack -- nobody seems to care for him anymore. But what happens when he decides to run away, then gets caught up in something bigger than anyone, even Cody, had expected? (Zack's POV)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that are in the episodes of the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I do, however, own the gangs/gang members. (Except Zack.)

A/N: There is abuse in this chapter. If you don't feel comfortable reading about it, skip the flashbacks.

It hurt. The pain, oh, how it hurt! But did it really matter? I looked in the mirror, saw the surprise and fear in my own face, and I knew I couldn't continue with it, no matter how much emotional pain it took away. Biting my bottom lip, I walked out of the bathroom, mentally cursing at myself. What had I just done?

Laying down on my bed, tears began to fall from my eyes again. Then I wiped them away. I was Zack. Zack Martin, the older twin. The tough twin. The twin that doesn't cry.

And I was the twin nobody wanted to be around.

I was the twin people avoided. I was the twin that didn't have anything. I was the dumb twin. The lonely twin. The loser. I was the twin that people ignored. The one that had to live day after day, working his ass off for barely anything. I was the twin that couldn't use big words correctly, who couldn't even apply for college.

I was the twin that killed. I was the one that didn't care if I killed my brother. I was the one that could turn the cold shoulder on anyone. I could inflict pain on others as they did to me. I could get angry at the woman I loved most, ignore her. Tell her that I didn't care. I could hurt people, kill people, and I didn't seem to care.

But I did care.

I did care, I cared about being the twin that nobody wants to be around, being the hated one, the one who was too dumb to do anything. The one that was so heartless, so cold to others.

I hated killing my brother.

But what did it matter? Even life hated me. Life made this happen to me. Life shaped me to be this person that not even I liked. This person that I couldn't change. I hated myself. I hated life. I hated what I did to Cody. I killed my own brother, and for what? To prove what? To show my anger? To inflict pain on him? To kill him? Why did I kill Cody, my own twin, my other half, the one that used to be my best friend?

Used to be.

That was just it. Used to be. Three words, three small, short words. Three words that meant a lot. Used to be. I used to be cool and popular. I used to be loved. I used to be liked. I used to be friends with many people. I used to be able to have a conversation, a normal conversation, with the people I loved. Used to be.

Why is it that everything has to change so much? Why does the world have to be against me? I feel like I'm fighting against the world, everything and everybody in it except my new gang fighting against me. And I was losing. Why was I so weak? Why couldn't I do anything?

Then there was Dad. Two years before his marriage with that.. other woman, I had gone to see him. Cody had stayed behind, being too sick to travel. But I hated what I came face to face with. And, I was only fourteen at the time.

Flashback

"Hey, Dad!" I yelled into the house, and I was greeted by an angry-looking man with a beer bottle in hand. "Dad?" I asked, quieter this time, looking at the man with the stubble on his face and the untidy black hair. I gulped.

"Whadda ya want, kid?" he asked angrily. "And I expect you to call me 'Sir' from now on, you worthless piece of shit." Obviously this was Dad. Well, not obviously, but still.

"Where's my room, Sir?" I asked, fear in my voice and eyes. What had happened to my father? Why was he acting like this?

"Up here." Grabbing my arm so tightly that I could feel my circulation stopping and my arm turning red, Dad forced me up the stairs and into a windowless room with two lamps and a small bed. "I don't want you bothering me, alright? If you do, it won't be pretty, kid."

"Y-yes, Sir," I stammered, sighing with relief as he let go of my arm. I avoided contact with his eyes, hoping that he'd leave and be on his way. But it wasn't so.

"Are you glad that I'm leaving, kid? Are you afraid of me?" I said nothing in reply. "In that case, I think I'll stay in here a few minutes longer." It was obvious from the look on his face that he saw the look of fear that had crossed my own face. He laughed shortly, an evil laugh full of hatred. I watched his hands turn into fists, then, in no time at all, one of them coming at me. There was no time to block it, or even dodge it. Then another one came. And another. And it seemed that he gave harder and harder punches each time that I had blocked one.

End Flashback

That had hurt so bad! He had made two of my teeth fall out, as well as cracking three; and given me horrible black eyes. The only place that he hadn't hit on my face, I remembered, was my nose. At the time I had thought that was bad. And I had no idea what was in store for me.

Flashback

I had started to fight back. I had been with Dad for a week now, and so far nothing worse than kicks and punches had come up. So I fought back.

"Kid, were you in the kitchen today!" Dad yelled with anger obvious in his voice, and then when he opened the door it was obvious from the look of his face as well.

"Yes, Sir," I said, no fear in my face or voice. That was a good thing -- I had learned to hide my fear, hide my feelings around this menace. But I wasn't able to turn him in. I loved him. He was my Dad.

"I told you never to go into the kitchen!" He seemed particularly angry today. And... Sober? I gulped. He was meaning to abuse me. I had never guessed. Everytime that he had come in before, he was drunk. Now he wasn't. From his back pocket I saw him take out a gun. I stepped back, no longer able to contain my fear. It was a gun. He could shoot me.

And I did.

I saw it in his eyes, that look of anger and hatred as he pulled the trigger and the bullet shot out so quickly that I hadn't had even time to move when it hit my arm. And before I hit the ground and shut my eyes I could see it in his eyes, that look of satisfaction but also that look that seemed to say, 'I should have killed him.' Then his voice rang out, and these words were words I could never forget:

"Soon enough, the world will recognize you for the worthless piece of shit you are."

I heard him walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him. My hand was covered with blood at this point and the blood was dripping onto the floor, and I couldn't get those words out of my head. Soon enough, the world will recognize you for the worthless piece of shit you are. I didn't know how true that had been.

End Flashback

My hand went to the arm that the bullet had hit, the scar was still there and I remembered that day as if it were yesterday. I remembered the other bullets I had taken because of Dad. And I also remember that only two years after that people had started to leave me. They had started to ignore me, treat me as if, as Dad put it, I was a worthless piece of shit.

Was I?

I always worked my hardest. I always did my best, I was always there to help Cody and Maddie and Mom and whoever needed help. I was funny, I kept things going and I kept things interesting. So why wasn't anybody liking me? Why was everybody leaving me?

All my life I had heard the words, "Everything happens for a reason" coming out of people's mouths. But did everything happen for a reason? If so, why?

Why did Mom die? Why did Dad shoot me so many times, even while he was sober? Why did Mom and Cody and everyone else want to get rid of me, to get me to Dad's for the summer? Why didn't anyone know that he was abusing me? Why didn't anyone know about those scars when I showed them? Why didn't anybody care? Why was everything so wrong? Why couldn't I just live like a normal person for once?

Why?

That got me thinking, and thinking hard. Were they really the ones drifting away from me? They had to be. Sure, I had gotten quieter, but I still talked to people. At least, I tried to. And when Cody left for college, why didn't he call me like he promised? Was I really such a pain?

Day after day, my hatred towards myself and others had grown. But did I really need to waste my time waiting for Cody to call? Waiting for Maddie to come during a break? Waiting for someone to talk to me?

I snapped back to reality at that point, realizing something: I had left my journal at the Tipton. Rummaging through my stuff, I found that I still had that extra key to my old room. Nobody could read my journal. It contained too many of my thoughts within it's pages.

I dashed from my new home, running as fast as I could towards the Tipton. Pushing my way through the doors, I noticed Maddie was there. Now that I was gone, Maddie was there. Everyone was in the lobby, talking. Talking about something that seemed very important.

Then something caught my eye. Something that was on the table, open, for anybody's eyes to see.

My journal.

A/N: Three pages of actual story. -sigh- I was aiming higher, but I decided that this was a good place to stop. I'll see if I can make the next chapter a bit longer, however. I guarantee it'll be at least four full pages of story. That means that Author's Notes, etc. will be excluded in the page count. So... Look forward to it!