The Dare to Destroy ~Cashby~

Prologue

Alan's POV

New town, new school, just...perfect. Just what every sixteen year old boy wanted, to be uprooted from his life and moved to a new town, new school where I knew no one aside my dear grandparents. 

If you wanna know, which you probably don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I'm Alan, I'm sixteen, and I hate life. My parents died last year, car accident, I wasn't that broken up over my father dying. We never really got on, sure I was upset, he was my dad after all and we'd had a few happy occasions growing up but he was never really much of a father to me. Never really treated me like a son, and he could be cruel when he wanted to be, he'd said a lot of mean things to me in the past. It got worse when he found out I was gay, he didn't want a gay son, but he eventually pushed past it for the sake of my mother. So yeah I was a little upset but not overly torn up. My mom though...I loved my mom, we where really close. She worked, but only while I was at school, so all the times I wasn't, it was me and her while my dad worked all hours. We did everything together and when I finally told her I was gay, she just hugged me and told me how proud she was of me. She told me how she would help me find a nice man to live my life with, to be happy with. And how she wanted to plan the wedding because she had the perfect vision in her mind. She always made me feel so wanted and loved, in every way, and whenever I was sad, she was right there to make me happy again, no matter what it took. We had mother/son days out, we'd go to the zoo, to the park, for picnic's, she was one in a million. She was just perfect, and loosing her was the worst thing in the world to me. It destoryed me and tore me up in so many ways when I lost her, I felt like my life was over without my mom around. I'd always been a kid who tried to act like an adult, I was an independant soul, but I was a boy who needed his mothers side and no matter how old I was, I would always need her, but now she was gone.

I used to be quite a happy and outgoing little ginger. I had my down times, and there was a time when I was thirteen, when I realized I was gay, I was depressed, I harmed myself and all that, but I got through it eventually. My mom was the main reason I pulled through that. I did it because I felt like I wasn't normal, like being gay wasn't okay, because of my fathers views. But she made me feel okay about it, she loved me and supported me, so I soon recovered and went back to my old happyself. I was full of life, always loved a new adventure, always dreamed of seeing the world, a big dream of mine was to play guitar in a band. I loved art too, I was always painting, or drawing and I wanted to travel to see all the historic art all over the world. I didn't have loads of friends, but I had a handful of really good ones. I was always taught it was better to have a few really close friends, who you could trust, then to have loads of friends who you couldn't. I dealt with the occasional asshole bully at school, but hey, most kids do at some point in life I guess, everyone tends to get teased for something. For me, it was mostly because I was ginger, or I didn't 'follow the crowd' but I didn't care. I was me, and I liked me, I was happy being me, so it didn't bother me. For the most part my life was pretty good back then. I loved life then, life was good, it wasn't perfect, but it was good.

But now, after that night, the life that turned my world upside down and tore it to pieces...I hated life. I was allowed to stay with my aunt to finish the school year but over the summer I was shipped off from my home town, Boston, Massachusetts, to here. Here being Huntington, California, where my grandparents lived. I wanted to stay in Boston, I loved it there, but my aunt claimed she couldn't care for me full time, so, my grandparents got custody.

I hadn't been the same after that night. I was no longer the small happy, outgoing ginger kid I once was. I pretty much shut everyone out, I wouldn't let anyone get close to me. I used to be fairly talkative, now I never said much, all my replies, if I was spoken to, where short and to the point. I had no interest in making friends, I didn't want friends, I just wanted to be alone. My friends ended up leaving me once they found out I was moving...and that hurt me more. I'd lost my parents, and now the people who I thought where my true friends. I felt so betrayed, unloved and unwanted, life had been so unfair, so I began to hate it and I decided If I was alone, I could never feel the pain of loosing someone I loved again. The only similarity between the old me and the me I am now is that I still play my guitar and I still loved art. However, before I played and did my art as a hobby, now it's my way to escape, it helps me for adding more marks to my arms, hips and legs...most of the time. I'd gone from a happy, carefree boy, to depressed, lonely soul, and the only thing that could save me was my mom...but she was never coming back.