Another day in my miserable life. I exist in a house that reeks of neglect and cruelty. A dad who doesn't care if I breathe or not, a mom whose hands only know how to hurt, and a sister who treats me like I'm invisible—unless, of course, I'm needed to scrub her world clean.
Every day, the weight of it presses me down until I'm choking on my own thoughts. I wonder if it would be better to just let go. End it. But then I think... if I vanish, what would my life even have meant? Will anyone care? Will the echoes of my existence just fade into nothing?
The only thing tethering me to this world is a small, crinkled poster on my wall. The edges are worn, but the words still stand firm:
"Life is never easy. We have our ups and downs, but the most important thing is to stay positive and smile."
My aunt gave it to me. She gave me hope when everything else fell apart, and I cling to it as if it's the only thread left connecting me to a brighter day.
I have friends too—good ones. None of them know about the bruises hidden beneath my sleeves, except for Zoey. She found out by accident one day when she followed me home and caught a glimpse of the wreckage through the window.
The next morning, she dragged me up to the school rooftop, her eyes burning with unspoken words.
"Please don't tell anyone," I begged, the fear in my chest heavy as lead.
"She's abusing you," Zoey said softly, her voice a sharp contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her eyes.
"Zoey, please..." I could barely get the words out, my throat tightening.
She looked at me, long and hard, before finally sighing. "Fine. But if they cross the line, they're dead."
I nodded, muttering a weak, "Thanks." Zoey's the only one who sees through my mask. I can fake it for the rest—throw on a smile, act like the world is nothing but sunshine. But inside, I'm crumbling.
And then, there's Grey. The boy who somehow lives between being my tormentor and the object of my affection. He teases me every day—"Rabbit," he calls me, as if I'm something small and fragile. But despite the mockery, I don't mind. His jabs, his sarcastic grin... I like it. It's twisted, I know. I haven't told a soul.
After school, I trudged home like I always do. I opened the door, the usual chaos awaiting me. Dad's voice roared through the walls as he cursed into his phone, my sister giggled in some far-off room with her boyfriend, and Mom was glued to the TV, dead to the world.
No one cared that I was home. That was fine. I didn't want them to. I slipped into my room, the door closing with a soft click, and I collapsed onto my bed.
"When will this end?" I whispered into the emptiness.
I put on my headphones, the music swirling around me like a protective shield. Sleep felt like the only escape, and so I let it take me.
By the time I woke, it was 3 PM. I couldn't stay in that house any longer, so I threw on my jacket and headed to Zoey's. When I knocked on the door, of course, it was Grey who opened it, smirking like the devil himself.
"What are you doing here, Rabbit?" His voice was taunting, as always.
"Enough with the nickname. I'm here to see Zoey," I replied, rolling my eyes.
"She's out with James," he said with a shrug, already turning to leave.
I sighed, turning to go, but something made me stop. Maybe I was too exhausted to face the long walk home.
"Are you hungry?" Grey's voice cut through my thoughts, unexpected.
"No," I lied, my stomach growling in protest.