Carbon Monoxide (Kellic) [go to AndehCrossley account for further updates]

Out of my dream and into my nightmare

A/N: Warning: this story contains the subject of self-harm, suicidal thoughts and depression. It may be triggering.

This is a fanfiction about Kellin Quinn and Vic Fuentes, aka Kellic.

This is my first fanfic, ever, (it's my first ever novel as well) so sorry if it is a bit dull sometimes. I hope you like it. Remember to comment and vote, I'd love to hear what you think of it as the updates come along. (updates may not be regular as I am very busy at the moment, but I will try my best) :)

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Kellin's POV:

I woke to the sound of my alarm going off; bringing me out of my dream and into my nightmare. Every night I dread the thought of waking up, hoping to peacefully die in my sleep; to finally put me out of my misery once and for all.

I look at the clock beside me, "08:20" Shit. I'm late; school starts in five minutes. I quickly slide out of my bed and slip on the first shirt I see. I make sure to pick up my hooded sweatshirt to cover the fresh scars that litter my arms, before walking out the front door and making my way to school.

* * *

I got to school at 08:37; classes started ten minutes ago so I had no time to go to my locker. I headed straight to first period history, which was only down the hall.

As I walked towards the history room, I could already hear Mr Malewicz ranting on about the Spanish Civil war or something; he's always so loud and eccentric. I reached the door and tried to sneak in as quietly as possible and made my way to my seat at the back of the class.

As I sat down at my desk, I heard the usual "Oh, look, the emo's back" and "Thought the fag would have killed himself by now"; this happens everyday, but I just plug in my earphones to block out the abusive whispers. I pulled out my sketch book and pen and started doodling; I'm working on a new poster for my room; it has loads of skulls and roses on it, I'm hoping to get it finished soon. I completely zone out when I draw; its the only way I can escape; I don't learn anything here anyway so it doesn't matter if I listen or not. The teachers dont seem to care either, Mr Malewicz didn't even notice me come in fifteen minutes late.

* * *

The lunch bell and everyone raced to pack up their books before running out into the hall. But I stayed back and slowly packed my things into my bag. After all, there's no need for me to rush; I have nowhere to be and no one to meet up with, so I might as well take my time.

As I walk to the door, I could hear Mr Malewicz talking to himself about how coffee used to be more expensive or gold or something; this guy is truly nuts.

My stomach rumbled as I walked towards my locker; jeez, I hate missing breakfast. I usually pack a sandwich but woke up too late to make it. I would buy something from the cafeteria but then I'd have to deal with all the whispers and name calling, plus I have massive social anxiety so I'd rather not go into a room crowded with people when I can avoid it; I'd rather go hungry.

I arrived at my locker and punched in my combination. I began to replace the books in my bag with new ones, when someone bashed into me, spraying my books all over the floor. I looked up to be faced with Aiden Connor, and two of his entourage friends. Aiden is known as the "popular" guy in school; with his half-plastic cheerleader girlfriend and the title of "Football Captain", he seems to run the school.

"What do you think you're doing?" he says, shoving me in the shoulder. "Huh?" he grabbed me by the neck and pushed me up against the wall of lockers. "I said, what the fuck are you doing, fag?"

He tightened his grip around my neck and bashed my head against the locker behind me. "Oww" I whimpered as the pain throbbed through my skull.

"That hurt, does it? You know what else hurts? My eyes when I see emo fags like you walking around my high school. Do us all a favour and kill yourself already!" He sniggered before throwing me on the ground. The three walked past, sliding my books even further across the floor. One of the other two guys kicked me in the stomach really hard as he walked past; I scrunched up on the floor, clenching my stomach as my eyes burned from the pain.

I can't do this any more; there is no need for me to be here; all I do is get beaten up and told to kill myself; why don't I just listen to them for once: maybe I am better off dead.

I stumble to my feet and close my locker. Its only lunch break; there's still the whole afternoon of school left; but I can't stand to be here any longer. I pick up my bag and walk out the front doors. Tears stream down my cheeks as I strole down the road towards my house. All I want to do is be alone; I deserve to be alone; nobody wants me; not people at school, not even my parents.

I run into my house and slam the front door and drop my bag. I stamp up the stairs, tears flying from my eyes, and rush into my bathroom with only one thing on my mind: where is my razor?