Broken

Part 1

I sit in my bedroom. Staring. Staring at the blank walls. Plane on the outside, just like me.

Sometimes I feel like my bedroom walls are my only friends. Well, that and my big black-oversized sweater.

It's my fault though. It's all my fault that I have a hard time talking to people. It's my fault that no one likes me, that they all make fun of me.

I look down at my wrist.

I see the scars I have made. I see the dried blood that will soon become a scar.

I close my eyes and exhale. Feeling my self- hatred burn in my stomach like acid.

'I'm a mess. A imperfect, terrible mess'

"Danny! Dinner is ready." My dad shouts. His voice booming, more cheerful then usual.

I slowly stand up. Pulling my sleeves down, putting my sweater on, and remembering to put my blade away. I walk toward the door way. I turn the knob and exit my room.

I walk down the stairs to see my dad sitting with a women.

She is well dressed, has brown, long, hair, and a lot of make up on. It cakes her face. She went over board.

"Danny," my dad says. "I'd like you to meet Amanda."

I suddenly feel my throat thicken as my lungs start to freeze up.

But I sill give her a light smile and sit down at the table even though it's the last thing I want to do. I hate meeting new people. I hate talking to people, I guess one could say that I hate people.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey," I whisper. "I'm Danny."

"I've heard a lot about you Danny," she says smiling. "It's a pleasure to finally put a face to a name,"

"Yeah, nice to meet you too, Amanda"

The pain in my lungs felt even worse now. Burning up, as if one were pouring my stomach acid all over them. My body aches, wishing for oxygen. My head is spinning and I don't feel good.

'I said too much.' I think as I run to the bathroom. 'I can't believe all that even came out.'

"Danny?" My dad says. "Where are you going?"

I arrive at the bathroom, and lock the doors once I'm inside.

'I hate myself so much.' 'What is wrong with me?!' 'Why didn't I bring my blade....'

'I can't even say less than a sentence without having an "anti-social" attack, if that's even a real thing.'

Sighing I reopen the door, walking out. I have to do this for my dad.... I don't want go deal with the consequences of ''my actions'.

Whether I like it or not.

I step out of the peach colored bathroom, and stumble trying to catch my breath, and pull off my cool

Amanda spots me, nudging my dad as he is in the act of apologizing for my action, my bad behavior.

"Sorry," I whisper, silently praying that I will be excused soon.

I sit down at the table trying so hard not to make eye contact with Amanda or even my dad.

"Danny," my dad says. "I understand if you don't want to talk. I know how you are. It's completely fine. I just wanted you to meet Amanda, because I have feelings for her."

I slowly look up.

Not that I was surprised because why else would she be here? But ever since my mother past away, I hate when my dad tells me that he likes someone else. Which happens a lot.