My Life In Resolution // Skylox au

Chapter 1

~Tyler's POV~

  I found myself rolling over in my bed, my face pointed towards my nightstand. Beeping continued throughout the room, echoing every so often. I slammed my hand down on the button that ended the dreaded noises, mumbling profanities of unhappiness under my breath as I stood up from my warm bed.

I stumbled over to my dresser, pulling my drawers out and picking out an outfit.

I decided on black skinny jeans, a white long sleeved shirt, and black converse with purple accenting them.

I wear a long sleeve shirt for a reason that not only harms me, but my mentality. As a broken teenager, I often rely on other options as to heal my pain, and one that permanently scars me seemed to interest me the most.

I didn't do it for pity or attention; far from it. I did it to relieve myself from the darkening pain rising in my chest and heart, and for that, everyone calls me names.

As if it wasn't worse, they found out about my harming and began to bully more than they ever did, but now it was far worse. To them - to society - I was just the school's gay, suicidal emo that had no life, and could never find love.

Although I had tried to stay strong before, it just never worked.

After all, you can't fight your demons forever.

  I dressed quickly, wincing slightly at the feeling of fabric scraping my wounds. I was ready to bound out of my room before it nearly crossed my mind to take care of my hygiene, and I found myself running to the bathroom.

My hair was tussled in every direction, so I grabbed the pitch black comb and brushed the tangles out. My haircut was long and layered, and more often than not, it covered my eyes. I grabbed my toothbrush and began to brush the plague from my teeth.

Once satisfied, I spit the foamy substance from my mouth and cupped my hands under the running faucet, bringing my hands up to my mouth to suck in the water I caught. I swished it around, and spit.

Just as I glanced over myself with lack of interest, my eyes fell down to my wrists, and I stared at the sleeves of my shirt. I sucked in a very unsteady breath, trying to fight the voice that began to boom in my head. I promised myself I wouldn't anymore as a promise to myself; to my health.

 The temptations were very high, and with a very shaky hand, I raked it through my hair as I turned and ran out of my home so that I didn't relapse like I said I wouldn't, surprised that my poor excuse of a father wasn't awake.

 I arrived to the brick building that I had known as school, letting a breath of dread leave my lips. I reached forward and opened the front doors, and the instant uproar of voices numbed my ears. The halls were crowded, and the atmosphere was pure misery in my eyes.

 I made my way down the corridor, gaining glares and insults being thrown every which way. Just as if the torment and torture wasn't already progressing badly, two voices pierced my skull and caused me to freeze. "Great, just what I needed." I whispered to myself, not really wanting anyone to hear in fear of being pummeled.

 "'Ey, lookie 'ere!" A heavily accented tone announced, and I snapped my eyes to the other bully, who only smirked my way. They leaned up from the wall they draped against and began to mockingly sling comments and snarky remarks at me as they approached. I didn't want to be harmed, but in a way, I did.

Just in hopes of being injured enough to be hospitalized and sent away, I wanted them to beat me.

Was that wrong, or was I really just overthinking this entire situation?

  I stood still, not daring to move as running would only make the beating worse, but that's what I wanted- right? I wanted them to beat me near death, but the pain would be too unbearable to ever want, so I stayed put.

I shuddered as one pair of lips made it to my ear, "Now, now, Ty, why the distant face?" I shrugged my shoulders, earning a displeased grunt. 

 "Have you forgotten that we could beat you for not speaking to us?" One of them growled, but they acted like they wouldn't beat me anyway. Even if I did talk, it was just a waste of air and thought. It would happen any other way.

"Fine! You can act like that, but you'll be punished, you fucking faggot!" There it is- that name. That horrid name that I hated with every blood vessel in my body. It was immature and uncalled for, but did they care?

  The leader of the two pulled his fist back with a hungry smirk, eyes wild and too big for his head as his fist began to near me. I had flinched back, eyes slammed closed and hands coming up to block my face, but nothing ever came like I was prepared for.

I peaked through my fingers to see my bully's fist held in a larger hand, and my eyes traveled up my savior's arm, up his torso and neck.

His appearance was unfamiliar, and I stared at him for several moments before I noticed one of my bullies crying and sobbing, begging to be released.

The unknown man threw the bully's hand away, making him tumble backwards and collapse to his ass. The bully stood up with a very terrified expression, scampering away with his minion in tow.

Although thankful, confusion filled every vein in my body as I stared at the man whom had decided to save me.

He must have been new, for no one in their right mind would have helped me. I wasn't liked, and I wasn't really enjoyable, according to the cheerleaders and jocks.

"Who are you?" I barked, not exactly finding a reason to thank this man when he could become a potential bully in the end.

The guy looked to me, his sunglasses shielding any view of his eyes. His brown curls were a mess of tangled swirls.  

A sudden desire to see the mysterious man's eyes washed through me, but as giddy as it made me, I pushed it away and waited for his answer.

As surreal as the scene had been, the man grinned a soft smile before saying in a very warm and deep tone, "Adam," before being swarmed by astonished guys and flirtatious girls.

Just like that, I was left to question his actions as I stumbled to class with a slight sign of hope flashing across my face, but it could all just be for nothing.