"You've had it rough, haven't you?" (DISCONTINUED)

I

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS STORY :

Self harm, Death, Abuse, Manipulation, Slurs, Homophobia, Bullying

Ring ring ring

I opened my eyes, hitting the button on the alarm clock that agitated me oh, so much, off.

I laid in bed for a couple more minutes, gathering up energy to stand up.
Eventually, I stood up and checked the time.
06:47
I still have plenty of time, which is great. I walked up to the closet and picked out an outfit.

I don't have alot of options though, I only have three pairs of pants : my blue shorts and my two jean pairs, one of them being only for church events.
But for shirts, I only owned my purple shirt, which has two pink stripes on both sleeves. I don't particularly dislike this shirt, but father does. He says it's too feminine, although he doesn't even bother buying me a new shirt. For my other "shirt", it's an indigo blue sweater for cold weather. Father thinks it's a "manly" colour, so I decided to buy it.

I grabbed my shirt and my blue shorts and quickly changed into them. Following with that, I pulled my rosary over my head, admiring the shiny silver.
Someone at the church gifted me this for my birthday,apparently it brings miracles to you. Now my father makes me wear it when I go out. I know it's just to maintain his reputation.

I made my way to the bathroom to wash my face and brush teeth. That's exactly what I did. I also stared at myself in the mirror for a while. I don't know why I do it, I just.. do. My mind travels and wanders while I examine every little detail, every pore of my face.

I hate my face. I always have. I hate my crooked nose, I hate my ugly, thick, ashy blonde hair.
What I hate the most though, is my personality. This futile act I put up. I know I'm an asshole, and even so, I don't bother changing. I want to make father proud. That's what he acts like, and I want to be exactly like him. He says he wants me to be just like him when I grow up, a copy of him. so that's what I'm trying to accomplish.
But sometimes.. I just wish I could act how I want.
I hate it. So much. I hate myself. I hate these stupid kids st my school, I hate these idiotic sinners. I hate.. everything.

Everything except for god and father.

That's.. just what I was thaught.

I let out a long sigh, splashing my face in water to snap myself out of my thoughts. I go to check the time again. The clock reads "7:10" I start making my way downstairs, but first, I make my bed. I can't have father punching me again because of forgetting to do my bed. It's my fault though, I shouldn't have forgotten. Going down the stairs, I notice my father waiting for me, clearly pissed.

"You fucking brat! You were supposed to come down here ten minutes ago for our morning prayers! Come here right this instant!" He shouted. Gritting my teeth, I hurried down the stairs and walked up in front of him, preparing myself for a slap. Or even worse, a punch.
Seeing my father lift his arm, I shut my eyes. My face gets pushed to a side. A stinging sensation lingers on my cheeks. I got lucky. I only got a slap. "I apologize, father. it won't happen again."
"It better not." he demanded, lifting his head in a way to show that he's superior.
We both made our way to the prayer room, not saying a word. The air in the atmosphere was thick and uncomfortable.

Upon ariving in the room, we got on our knees and started praying.
We both prayed in sync.
Right after finishing, we got up and I made my way to the door, telling my father a goodbye. Father eats at the chruch three times a day, so we don't have any food at home. And when we do, it's for the guests father has over and I never get to even touch it. The only times I get to eat are at school. And hence me being a picky eater, I hate most of the foods there. The only food I really enjoy is bologna. It's simple. I admit, it doesn't taste like a five star meal, but it reminds me of the bologna sandwiches my mom made me as a kid whenever I was hungry in the mornings, my mom used to stock up on food for the fridge and make me and her lunch. Father was as the church most of the time.

I miss mom.

I picked up my pace to the bus stop, I wouldn't wanna miss the bus. When the bus finally arrived, I entered it and chose a window seat at the back. I stared out of the window when suddenly I thought of him again. Its a pain honestly. Sally face.. well, his name is Sal but he wants people to call him Sally face.. for whatever reason. I bully him, no need to sugarcoat it in words like "tease" him or stuff like that. I am well aware of the fact how cruel I am to him, I've even punched him a few times, I'm ashamed of it honestly, but no one knows that. On the other hand, he is a stupid sinner, and he totally deserved it.. right? Oh, who am I kidding, no he doesn't. Hes such a nice guy. I envy him. I think hes amazing and sweet. And I despise that fact. I could lie to myself all I want, but I know that I don't hate him. In fact, I like him way too much. Whenever I think of him I start drowning in a sea of guilt and shame. Im a boy. Boys can't like other boys. It's against gods words! It's a sin.
...
I am a dirty sinner. I disgust myself.
Why can't I just be normal?! I keep praying for these thoughts to go away. Fucks sake, I punish myself for these thoughts too! I even go out of my way by punishing myself. It never fucking works. Maybe I'm not praying hard enough? Do I have to step up the punishments?

What. Is. Wrong. With. Me.

I got snapped out of my bubble when I felt the train came to a stop, I was preparing to stand up when I noticed Sally Face was right in front of me. I'd pick on him but.. It's literally seven in the morning. So I just figured I'll wait for him to exit the bus and then I will leave too. Once he hopped off, I grabbed my back and swung it over my shoulders. That kind of hurt, I forgot I had a bruise on that spot.

I then left the bus and entered the school building, questioning my whole life and existence once again.
What's my purpose? That's something everyone asks themselves, yet that cannot be answered. Some people think we exist to reproduce, while others say we have no meaning, or that we were just blessed with life.
I could go on but, you get the point.
Me personally? I don't have a fucking clue, father tells me it's so we worship god.

Walking up to my locker, I grabbed my Algebra books. Oh how I despise anything to do with math. It's so complicated, and I forget everything anyways. I saw Sally Face and his freak gang talking and laughing. How I hate these stupid sinners.. such fags. They're going to suffer in hell for what they do.
I decided to leave them alone for now. I dont have enough energy to pick on them yet.

Upon arriving to class

I was taking all my stuff out that I needed for this lesson, when the teacher came in and announced something.
"Today, we're going to be writing a test. You should already know that, since I announced it last lesson."

What the fuck? Did she actually?
Oh shit I didn't study. Father's going to kill me.
I should have payed attention.
It's like she knows that I didn't study. I let out a long sigh trying to remember what we went over last week.

25 minutes in

"Excuse me, mr Fisher."
Silence
"Sal, wake up!"
The teacher yells at the steel blue hair colored boy.

"Huh?" I hear Sal say.

"That doesn't look like math to me" Mrs. Packerton complains. She's such a bitch oh my god.

"Oh sorry, I must have dozed off. I already finished my test."

I look over. Not only is he pretty, but he's smart too! I mean, he finished it this fast? i realize I'm staring at him AND having homosexual thoughts! Goddamnit Travis. I scrunch up my nose in disgust.

"I know, dear. You aced it as well, very good. Just try to stay awake for the remainder if the class, okay?"

"Sure. It won't happen again." He replies, in his usual soothing voice.

"And Mr. Phelps, eyes on your own paper."

I look back at my test and continue working on it. I would have preferred looking at Sal though. "humph!"  I groan, trying to make my annoyance obvious.

A few minutes later

"Class is almost over. Make sure everyone hands in their tests before leaving." I stand up just like everyone else, hand in my test and exit the classroom.