An Angel got me Suffocating ~Kellic~

Prologue

A/N: Well hey there! Welcome to my first ever Kellic! Very exciting stuff! Now, before I start, there may be trigger points in this story, so please read with caution. Anyway, here's the prologue for you guys! Hope you enjoy!

Kellin's POV
I hate my life, it's as simple as that. I was clearly dealt a horrid hand of cards when I was created, and I hated it. Just for once, I wanted something to go right for me, all I wanted was to be happy, was that really too much to ask?

I should introduce myself, I'm Kellin, I'm nineteen and currently taking a gap year to work my hiney off in order to save money, before heading off to college...if I could ever afford to get there.
I was born and raised in Michigan, however, I ran away from home to be with my grandparents when I was fifteen, and now I'm here in California. I liked it here, it was pretty, with all the scenery, the beaches, I loved the beaches, I loved just going down to the beach, taking a good book and read while I soaked up the beautiful California sun. There was something about it I found so...peaceful, along side singing and playing my beautiful, albeit slightly battered and aged acoustic.
I was the shy, quite type, I didn't make friends easy, and that was thanks to these little things called anxiety and depression, great huh? Once I got to know someone, I was okay, for the most part, I would be happy, chatty most of the time...it was the getting there that was the problem for me.

I ran away from home because, well, my parents hated me. For fifteen years I suffered nothing but hate and abuse. I remember the time my mom broke my nose when I was six, she got mad at me for a reason I'm not even sure of, threw me across the room and I went face first into mine and my brothers metal bunk beds. She wasn't even sorry she did it, I just remember her telling me I deserved it. There where more broken noses and bruises over the years, mostly from her, my dad just kind of sat there and watched it all happen. He was too coward to do anything to help me, although he saw the pain I was in. My siblings, an older sister and two younger brothers would do the same, just watch. Although, my older sister would join in the torture sometimes, saying hateful things. She never hit me, but her words hurt more then any physical action ever could. My siblings where like angels to my parents, they adored them, but me...I was unwanted. Not once in fifteen, now nineteen years had my parents ever told me they loved me...not once. I was an unplanned pregnancy and was told I was only kept because my memaw convinced my mother to keep me. My memaw had been more of a mother to me, with my gramps like a father, then my parents ever had been. Sadly, they never knew what was going on, as they lived here in California.

At the age of nine, I had successfully been fully diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I'd taken to probably the worst form of release, but it was all I could do. Imagine that huh, at the age of nine, having small scars up your arms, wanting to give up on life, sounds great right? And of course I'm being sarcastic here. Not only did the abuse continue at home, I was bullied in school too, I was the target at school, everyone hated me. I had one friend, someone I'd known since birth, but sadly we where sent to different schools, so I didn't even have him around to be there. But I saw him on weekends though, and he always made me feel a little better.
Braking point for me, is when the main bully found out I was gay, he outed me to the whole school and my parents. I remember that day, one week after my fifteenth birthday, I was beaten badly at school, and then in the evening by my family. I finally cracked, locking myself in the bathroom and attempting to take my life.

Clearly, it didn't work, was I saved? God no, why would my family do that? No, I just failed, like I did at everything, music was the only thing I was good at in all honesty. I just woke up the next day, throwing my guts up and feeling like I'd consumed my towns entire alcohol supply.
I skipped school that day, and waited until everyone had gone before calling my grandparents and braking down. I told them everything that happened, they where so shocked and appalled. They'd always suspected something was going on when they came to visit, but they where never sure, and never found evidence...my mom was good a manipulation and covering her tracks. But once they heard it from me, they took the first flight out here.
The next day, again, I skipped school, waiting until everyone was gone, and started packing my things. I didn't have much, just a few worn, old, tatty clothes, while of course my siblings had nice, new clothes. A few CD's and a walkman I'd paid for myself by doing odd jobs for neighbours and a paper route on Saturdays and the acoustic guitar my friend, James had given to me as a gift and that was all. James was going to be the only thing I was going to miss about being here. But once again life took a dump on me two years ago and I lost the one person who could make everything okay. He was killed by a gang on June 30th, I'll never ever forget that phone call that tore my world apart. James wasn't just a friend, he was my soul mate, we had plans, dreams to one day escape, start our own recording studio and be happy, together. But life didn't want that for us, so they took him.