You really can't trust anyone. Parents, friends, boyfriends, strangers.
A wise man once said that to succeed in this life you must become your own best friend, rely on yourself because the moment you let your guard down, that storm that's been ticking away in your head, well it won't be a figment of your imagination anymore.
For the past eighteen years that was what I'd done. I didn't do friends or love or anything that would cause me to feel emotion towards somebody else that could leave me lost. I've always liked simple. Simple I could do. I always thought it was easy.
A part of me always wanted something more, a voice at the back of my head was screaming, begging for anything but this meaningless existence and I suppose one day, I broke.
~~~
Monday morning, possibly the worst thing in this entire world. I got up and headed to the bathroom. I stepped into the shower and let the heat of the water consume my body. I got out of the shower All too quickly and then Walked glumly back to my bedroom. The walls of the flat I shared with my father were damp and discoloured, It was 640 in the morning and I was tired so, so tired. I knew what today was going to be like, it was going to be like every other single day pointless and meaningless. Every single day been like this since my mother died, But I hadn't just lost her, I'd lost my father too. It's strange what death can do to a man in love, Some men through themselves into charity work and making a better life for themselves, But some men break, They forget how to love, how to breath, how to act, how to love. Unfortunately from me my dad was the second type of man, Healing his broken heart with drink and a world of violence. My dad had never hit me before the loss of my mother, What I could gather from my father was when you take a first hit you seem to enjoy it a bit too much, But the look of relief in his eyes I saw, Since that moment I knew my dad was figuring out a way to heal his broken heart. Through pain, through me. God did it hurt.
I threw on some clothes and brush my long brown hair, I was in a rush, a rush to avoid him, a rush to get out before he realised that I was awake. You see despite my dad hitting me taking his anger out on me, he was still very reliant on me, If he saw me leave the house he knew that everything was real if you didn't see me he'd be confused to whether he was sober or not, And I liked those odds a hell of a lot more than the other ones.
It was my first day back at school as a newly named senior and I was not looking forward to the day that faced me. As I walked down the road leading up to my school I pondered how this all would end up. Would my senior year be a good one? Would it be as good as everyone said? I doubted it.
