He was a mess and he knew it. He knew he should get up, who knew how long he had been lying their, doing nothing but existing.
He was in so much pain. He had been in more then this, but it was hitting him harder then normal.
The pain in his abdomen that happened once a month, sometimes for weeks at a time.
Sometimes the pain spread to his chest and made him feel like his body was on fire, and his skin and muscle was slowly melting off his bones.
He knew that he should get up and make himself useful. (He was nothing if he wasn't doing something.) But he could will himself to.
He probably look disgusting at the moment. His face red and puffy from the clear ( slightly red ) stream coming from his eyes.
His brother was still asleep. He had to stop before he woke up and asked what was wrong.
He worried his family as it was. (So much wrong, so much worry).
He was a mess.
He wished he was better. That he could be useful, (like his dad wanted him to be) but he could barely clean the house correctly.
He was to young to get a job. He still had to wait a year. (He had been waiting seems he was eight.)
He just took up space. (In his room. In his bed. In the world.)
He knew that he would never be anything. He would just be the sad kid that people pityed. (Nothing more, nothing less)
He really was a mess.
YOU ARE READING
Random Ass stories.
Short StoryMy mind is very dark and twisted, when it comes to school assignments or just random short stories. They're always Thrillers or horror or mystery. I was told that I should be sharing these stories because they are quite good. Most of them will be...
