TW!: Sh and lots of self hate
Pj's pov:
It's just that time of life right? When everything just seems to suck. It Seems like everyone hates you. Seems like you're a failure. But it doesn't just "seem" that way. It is that way. Everything sucks. Everyone hates me. I am a failure. I'm so tired of everything. Life doesn't seem worth living somtimes... Yet here I am getting ready for school when I just wanna lay in bed and never get up again.
I hate getting ready. What do I even wear? It's not like I'll ever look good enough. I put on a sweater and pants. Pretty Basic and ugly. Like always. I walk downstairs to see my parents at the dining table eating breakfast. I don't really feel like talking with them right now. I try to sneek past them so I can just walk to school right away. "Paperjam! Come eat somthing before school" but ink spotted me. "I'm not really hungery right now dad. I'll eat later k?" Ink sigh's. "Alright pj but promise to eat somthing today ok?" "Yep.." I lied. I don't really eat much. Anyways, out the door I go.
"Yo wusup jam jam! Ready to walk to school?" Fresh always meets me at my door before school to walk with me. "Ready as I'll ever be I guess" I respond in an annoyed voice. I really hate school. "Oh c'mon jammy, maybe today will be a better day!" Fresh speaks with joy. He's always happy ; I think. Nobody really knows what he's feeling. "Yeah I sure hope so" I say rolling my eyes. Everyday sucks. It always will. Fresh then takes my hand and pulls me to school.
I hate going to school. I feel so dumb when I do school. I don't understand anything. It feels like I'm trying to solve rocket science.
And people bully me. And misgender me. I don't get what I'm doing wrong. I try my absolute best to be nice to everyone I meet but their still all so mean to me. Fresh sticks up for me when he can but that doesn't stop them. I have come home with bruises and scratches. I have hid them pretty well from my parents. But it still hurts. I don't why life sucks so much for me but I probably deserve it. And anxiety just makes it all worse. I also overthink too much. Like what if their judging me. Are they looking at me? Why are they staring? Do I look weird? Am I walking too fast or too slow? Am I doing somthing wrong? Why do I overthink so much? I hate myself for doing that. I'm being so dramatic I just- "yo pj. You okay? You've been really quiet the whole walk. Is somthing bothering you? You kinda look like you're about to cry..." I totally forgot fresh was with me. "Huh? O-oh yeah I'm fine just uh .. spacing out." I lied. "Okay jam. I'm here if ya need to talk okay?" Fresh seems really worried "yeah ... I know" I don't like talking about my feelings. I don't wanna bother people with my troubles.
Finally in class. Everyone has seated and the teatcher is now talking. I'm not listening though. It's not like I'll even get it. A paper gets thrown at my head and onto my desk. I don't even bother to look at it. It usually says things like 'kys" "whore" "dumbass" and more... But I'm used to it by now. It happens all the time.
-Time skip-
As me and fresh walk home we both talk about our day and what we'll do when we get home. "So jam, is it ok if I come over for a bit later today?" "Yeah sure. I'd like to hang out" "rad. And I can help ya with dat homework you got Kay?" "Mhm." Fresh likes to hang out with me alot. I don't know why. He has alot of other people to hang out with yet he hangs out with me. We get to my house and we say our goodbye's. I walk in and go straight to my room throwing myself on my bed without talking to my parents. "I don't wanna do homework..." Fresh will be here in about two hours so I can take a quick nap. I let my eyes slowly close.
"Ugh..." I wake up feeling like absolute shit. I walk to my bathroom and look in the mirror. Out of nowhere I start crying. "Ugh ... Why am I even crying right now..." As I start overthinking like I always do, I get the urge again. I pick up the blade from under my sink. Slowly drawing with metal as dark red seeps out of the wounds. I stare at my wrist for a few seconds. Why do I always fuck up? I feel like a waste of space... As I feel more tears in my eyes I bring up a hand to cover my mouth muffling my whimpers. Thinking of self hate and a ton of other stuped things. My voice is all shaky and high pitched. Tears are racing down my cheeks like waterfalls. I don't know what to do anymore. It seems like everyone hates me. I'm so tired of everything. Life is so hard. I grew up too fast. I just want to be a kid again. I want to be held by someone. I want someone to tell me that everything's okay. And that it will get better. My face feels hot but my body shivers as I lay on the cold bathroom floor. But one thing I didn't realize was fresh....standing at the door with fear and worry on his face.
"J-jammy? Oh my goodness jammy what happened? What made you do this to yourself?" I forgot fresh was coming over. I am completely done with everything at this point. I lay there crying with blood on the floor as fresh stares at me with tears in his eyes. He then takes me into his arms and cradles me. "Jammy...why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you. I can help you pj! Please let me help you. Just talk to me" as fresh tries to clean my wounds I try to talk. But all that comes out is choked sobs. "I'm so sorry you're going through this jammy. I promise I'll help you okay?" I have finally broken. I pour out all my feelings to fresh. "I'm so sorry fresh. I'm sorry! I just can't do it anymore. I'm so tired of everything. It's too hard and stressful. I just can't fresh I'm sorry." As I cry into his shoulder he listens to my every word. He hugs me and rubs my back. "It's ok jammy. I'm here now okay? I'm here for you and I always will be. I promise I'll help you feel better. We can get through this together. It will get better jammy. It's just that time of life" fresh cleans my arms and wraps it up. He picked my up and brings me to my bed and cuddles me trying to calm me down as we both slowly fall asleep.
End
1208 words sorry this one is short guys. Hope you enjoyed. This story was a bit of a vent for me.
