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A/N- HULLOOOOO!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS HOPEFULLY SAD CAUSE IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE SAD BUT I DON'T KNOW!!!!
Anyway... one of my bestest friends JeMeHais came up with pretty much all the events in this chapter because I suck at sad stuff... AND HER IDEAS WERE GREAT BUT I DON'T KNOW IF I DESCRIBED EVERYTHING RIGHT AHHH!!!Hopefully I did and it's good because I really tried and sad is hard...

ENJOY THIS HORRIBLY KINDA EDITED CHAPTER!!!!!

Calum was awoken the next morning by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He knew he should check it, but he couldn't force himself to get up from the embrace of warm yet bony arms, which he knew belonged to Luke.

In Luke's arms he felt safe. He felt loved. He had never felt either of those things before now, and he never wanted it to end.

But of course, Calum never got what he wanted and his phone continued to vibrate in his pocket.

He reluctantly got up out of bed and took his phone out, checking his messages.

His face paled when he saw who they were all from... his father.

He opened the first one.

Wher the hell haev u ben?! Get ur ass bck home now! Maybe I wont mke it so hard on u if u buy me a drink or two

Calum cringed. His father had finally notice he was missing and was already drunk out of his mind this early in the morning.

He knew he had to get home without having the boys drive him. They would probably never want to even look at him again if they saw his living conditions at his house. They would think he was disgusting.

So instead, he snuck out. He threw on his shoes and jeans, since he woke up in only Michael's sweater, and sneakily tiptoed down the stairs and out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took him longer to get home from Ashton's house, one reason being he didn't even know exactly where he was. But he unfortunately made it back anyway.

He sighed and took a deep breath before walking towards the steps to his old, grey, worn down house.

He opened the door and was instantly hit by the smell of alcohol, making him scrunch his nose in disgust.

Calum looked around quickly, seeing the condition of the house. There was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and clothes scattered everywhere. There were tons of alcohol bottles and beer cans all over the floor and on every table. Broken glass was spread all over the kitchen. The whole house was a wreck.

Calum sighed, wishing he could be back in Ashton's room, cuddling with the boys while they were still peacefully sleeping, but it was too late for that now.

He snuck in quietly and tiptoed over to the sink, running water to start washing dishes and added in soap. He started washing the dishes, his mind going back to the boys and wishing he was still there with them.

He was nearly finished with the first chore, when a figure walked up behind him and wrapped their arms tightly around his neck.

"So you finally decided to bring your ass back?" his dad slurred. Calum struggled in his grip and clawed at his arms, unable to breathe.

Calum's dad, David, threw the small boy against the kitchen counter, causing him to scratch the side of his face against the table and hit his head against the cold, hard, wooden floor of the kitchen. Calum whimpered in pain, only to yelp loudly once he felt an impact against his ribs as his father's shoe slammed against his side over and over again.

Warm blood trickled down his cheek from the scratch and his father snatched him up again by his sweater. Calum felt lightheaded.

A rough hand slammed across his face. "I know you haven't been home because you tried avoiding me. Well guess what? That's never gonna happen, son, so don't try it again. And where the hell is my beer?" David yelled at his barely conscious son.

Calum, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, passed out just as his dad threw him to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly half an hour later, Calum regained consciousness. He was sprawled out on the kitchen floor lying in a pile of broken glass. There was dried blood on one side of his face and his whole body ached. He tried pushing himself up, only to feel a sharp pain in his left side, and fell to the floor again. He whimpered in pain and laid in the floor until his father came into the kitchen again with a beer in his hand.

"Oh so your finally awake? Get your worthless ass up and go fix yourself. Then get back and finish your job," he slurred out, then walked back to wherever he came from. But not before kicking the boy once more.

Calum whimpered in pain and forced himself up to his feet, leaning on the kitchen table for support.

He slowly limped to the stairs and crawled up on all fours, too weak to walk up them.

He collapsed once he reached the bathroom door and laid on the floor, completely exhausted.

But once he heard footsteps, he got up and crawled the rest of the way into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he reached back and grabbed it from his pocket.

All of the messages were from Ashton, Michael, and Luke. Luke had sent the most.

Lukey: Calum where did you go? Please come back...

Lukey: We're all really worried about you please at least text one of us...

Lukey: Why did you leave anyway? Were we not good enough??? Was I not good enough?

Lukey: I really feel like crying... please call back soon

Lukey: I miss you Calum... I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you to stay... I can change I promise.. please just come back

The last one honestly broke Calum's heart. Of course he wanted to go back. And Luke was more than enough for Calum to ever want. He was perfect. But he couldn't go back. The boys could do so much better than him.

Calum sighed, holding in his tears, and turned on the shower water. He pulled himself up, using the sink for balance, and removed his (Michael's) sweater. Luckily it wasn't stained with his blood from the scratch. Then he removed his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers.

Like nearly every morning, he looked at himself in the mirror, picking out all of his imperfections. He was disgusted by the sight.

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at the huge bruises forming from the events that took place earlier. And as he observed himself, he realized something.

Ashton, Michael, and Luke... they were all too good for him. He was just an abused, ugly, stuttering mess. The boys probably only talked to him because they pitied him.

A single tear fell before he quickly wiped it away, only to have more stream down his face. He couldn't stop them. So he cried.

As he cried, he looked for the one object he hadn't touched in nearly a whole week... his razor.....

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