We're Suicidal Kids Telling Other Suicidal Kids That Suicide Isn't the Answer

2.

trigger warning and kinda just assume that most of the beginning of this will be triggering

Jordan's POV:

"'Daddy! Daddy! Lookie! Lookie! I made a flower today!' I excitedly shouted as my little 4 year old legs wobbled me over to the chair he was sitting on. 

'That's great, now don't bother me,' he said, disinterested. I skipped off happily although deep down, the words hurt.

'Did you know that dinosaur means terrible lizard?' 

My kindergarten teacher replied, 'I don't care Jordan.' I walked off, slouching.

'My art teacher let us draw whatever we wanted today!' I show my older brother the artwork I had started in class.

'I seriously do not give a fuck about what you drew...'

I slowly walk to school. The first day of highschool. I had escaped most of my bullies because they were a year older. I glanced at the piece of paper in my hand that told me where my locker was. #84. I push past the group of seniors that crowd around my locker spin the numbers 6-16-12. I open the small grey locker and stick my books in then head towards my first class. 

BAM! I'm slammed into the side of a locker with a pudgy hand clasped around my throat. 'Long time no see, huh Jordan?' It's Seth Weaver. My long-time bully. I gasp and choke for air. 'Do you need to breathe?' I nod frantically. 'Well, then it's too bad you're not going to. You're worthless. No one cares about you. You should just die.' He loosens his grip a tiny bit so I can get a small breath of air. He leans in and whispers with his foul breath, 'I'm going to make this year hell for you.'

And he was right. I am worthless. No one cares. I sneak out every night and didn't come back until 4am until I stopped bothering to sneak out and just waltz out the door. My parents didn't care. They just beat me, together. Everyday. Afterschool. My brother dropped out of school and disappeared years ago. Now, I am 17. I drink. Self-harm. Anorexic. Anxiety. Depression. Suicidal." I drunkenly rambled to this boy I didn't know, in this alleyway at night. He could kill me but I would welcome it. But curiously, I trusted him and maybe it was because I was drunk but I felt like he understood. This boy with dark hair in the middle of an alley next to a bar at night.

A/N: Seth Weaver is a guy in my school. Extremely annoying. and those are my locker and combo so yeah

idk I've had an absolute shit week but I've found that when this happens, I just throw myself into writing and it makes me feel better :)

Uhhh tell me if you enjoyed or want more...

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See ya!