Stay With Me (boyxboy)

Chapter 1

Shy's POV

Shy^^

I woke up to the sound of my alarm going off. Groaning I somehow managed to get out of my little blanket burrito and trudge my way to the bathroom.

Since I hear no loud screaming or crying, I assume my little brother is sleeping. Shutting the bathroom door, I turn on the light and jump five feet in the air when I see my face.

"Ugh, I look like a zombie."

It looks like I got run over by a truck! Those movies lie when they make it seem like people wake up looking gorgeous. Let's face it, everyone must look as bad as me right now, or worse. Slapping my face a couple of times, I turn on the sink to get rid of the eye boogers that decide to randomly form in the middle of the night.

Just as I was about to wipe my face I hear a quiet knock on the door, making me grin automatically.

"Shyyyy."

My little brother, Ian, mumbled from outside. Quickly drying my face with a towel, I open the door to see him standing there with a little pout on his lips and watery eyes.

"What's wrong little one?"

I ask, slightly worried. Not answering me, Ian just lifts his little arms up to me. His way of telling me to pick him up, and that's exactly what I do. He lays his head on my shoulder and starts whimpering, and that turned to crying. Cuddling him close to my chest, I whisper in his ear,

"Shhhh, calm down Ian, you're okay. I've got you."

After about five minutes, his crying turned to little sniffles. He lifts his head off my shoulder and looks at me with wide, brown eyes.

"Now why were you crying, babe?"

Wrong thing to say. His eyes began watering again, and he cried out, "I h-had a dweam whewe you g-got huwt by a mean ma-man Shy!"

"Awe Ian, don't worry it was just a dream," I said.

"Nobody is going to hurt me. I am a strong person!" I even puffed my chest out, to make me look bigger.

He kept crying, so I kissed him all over his little face and neck, which tickled him, and he let out a giggle- soon turning into his uncontrollable laughter.

"Shy stop!" he gasped out. "I'm gonna go pee!"

Then his words made me start laughing. I love my little three-year-old brother so much that I would do anything to get him to smile. We were in the middle of our laughing spasm when my dad's voice was heard throughout the house.

"Shy, don't make him wet his underwear! We finally got him to use the toilet two days ago!"

I laughed harder.

Jonathan's POV ~~~

Many teenagers wake up to their parents gently waking them up, or an alarm going off. My dad's version of waking me up though is through, this time, a cigar burn on my shoulder. I scurry out of bed and wince in pain. It feels sad saying this, but the only reason I don't scream anymore is because I'm used to the burning feeling.

"Wake up you useless waste of space. It's time for school."

He makes sure to knock down my guitar from its stand on the way out. I don't even care anymore. He bought it for me. Of course, that was before the abuse started after my mom died a year ago.

Walking to my door, I make sure to shut it and lock just in case he wanted to come to beat me up before work. I know what you're thinking.

'Say something! Call someone! Don't just take the abuse like that.'

I know I could easily beat my father and use him as a punching bag, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I love him too much. Even though he began verbally and physically abusing me, I lived sixteen years of my life with my real father. The man who taught me how to play guitar and enjoy life.

Not the abusive one I have today.

Flashback ~

When I was 16, my mom died drowning in a car after it landed in the lake. She died saving my life in the process. We were both stuck, and as the water rose my mom managed to break a window. She motioned me to go first, and when it was her turn, I gripped her hand, but the car slipped in the mud, and she went deeper in the lake with the car.

I didn't care at that moment that I was losing my breath. I swam down to rescue her. By the time I reached the car though, her body lied motionless in the water, with her eyes wide open, but showed no life in them. I knew it was too late, but I couldn't leave her behind.

I stayed holding her hand, and just as I was about to let death take me away, I felt myself getting dragged out of the water. It was a group of teenagers that spotted our car going under, while they were fishing. As my body was being dragged out, I began thrashing and screaming to the top of my lungs,

"My mom is still in there! I can't leave her. She needs me!"

No matter how hard I struggled to break free from their grasp, they wouldn't let me go. I tried one more time, but the biggest teenager there held me down and hugged me tightly.

"I'm sorry,' he mumbled. "She's gone. By the time my sister reached her, she was dead."

I let my body go limp in his arms, and I just cried and cried and cried until the ambulance came.

End of flashback~ ~

Ever since the car accident, I haven't even tried to go swimming again. I couldn't because every time I would try, I just pictured my mom's body in the water. After her funeral, my dad didn't look at me for weeks.

I guess somewhere along the way he decided to start beating me up instead. He blames me for her death all the time, and even though I know it wasn't my fault it still hurt to hear it.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face with water. Opening my closet door I decided to wear a white V-neck, dark jeans, my red hoodie, and my black converse.

Fixing my hair in the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. Yes, I get abused and have nobody to lean on, but I still have an education and music to help me make it through the day.

Before stepping out of the house I sigh. Music and learning are not a family, but it's all I need, and all I have.