Jersey-a short story.

Jersey.

Jersey was a clown. He wasn't a brightly coloured clown who laughs and does tricks. He wasn't tall, only about five foot seven. He had white hair with green at the front and an odd placing of black at the back. His eyes had a smiley face which was yellow, and he had sharp teeth. his clothes were oddly showy and tight, being coloured maroon and a deep violet as well as a nice, clean white. he had black clown makeup, which consisted of eyeliner that was like a scar over his eyes, and black lipstick which was always ruined by the end of the day. He had a tail like a demons; thin and black with an arrowhead like piece at the end. His outfit also consisted of black and white neck ruffles.6:21 AM.Jersey sighs, waking up groggily as per usual. His body ached from the events of the previous night, His eyes felt strained, and his legs burned and stung. He groans in pain as he stands up, his limbs aching. The usual chattering in his brain was quieter then usual. Walking out of his messy bedroom, he stumbles across a pin. it was a red one, with a broken heart on it that was blue. "A blue heart..? what logic is that?" He grumbles out sleepily. He goes to draw a bath, putting the pin on a plain, oak bedside table beforehand. The water was warm and soapy, but still uncomfortable. Sitting and soaking, not bothering to properly wash his body. its not like he had to, anyway. his skin felt like plastic in the water, as if the water was shredding away at the paint that had vandalised his childhood. He could still feel it, as if a stain left on an old, ripped, now grey t-shirt. He felt odd. The bruises littering his skin were dark and painful. His arms and thighs stung as the blood from his wounds seeped into the water. He'd have to re-do his bath now. He sighed, getting out and trying not to slip as the water dripped down his slightly emaciated body. He re-drew his bath with a sigh, getting back in. he didn't bother making the water warm, the icy water making his body tremble and shiver. Cold. he liked the cold. it made him feel less alone, as if the other unfortunate souls who had been damned to this torture were with him. it made him feel oddly warm. like he could feel their blood covering him. he laid down in the cold water, feeling as if the weight of his sins were being lifted. the freezing water reminding him of the river. the park. his parents. the excitement. the way he screamed for help as he felt the hands grabbing him. hands. all over his bruised and young body. the pain. he starts to cough as he realises his head wasn't above the water, sitting up quickly. "sakra...oh god..." Jersey gasps out, breathing heavy. his heart was racing. 'That...we almost...drowned...' the thought of drowning scared him. the water suddenly felt less comforting than it had originally, and so he stood up. he avoided mirrors. he hated the sight of his body. battered, cut and bruised. he dried himself off, wincing in pain as he presses on his bruises. he groans, laying on his bed. he didn't bother to get dressed, he didn't have a need for it anyway. 'maybe if I break myself enough he won't want me anymore..' he thought. that wouldn't be tue, however. "Jersey? Jersey!" A familiar voice had been calling out to him. Starlight, a very cheerful and caring person, who was known for how she stood up for others. she wasn't human, which was obvious due to her metal body. she had spikes on her head, five of them. her eyes were pitch black and her clothes were based off the sun and moon. The door of Jersey's room opened with a quiet creak, and Starlight's eyes fell on Jersey's bruised body half hidden under blankets. He looks back up at her. with a sigh and a thud, Jersey rolls off his bed. he didn't want to stand. Starlight lets out a quiet laugh, smiling. "Jersey.." Jersey looks...unamused. He was tired, his legs and thighs ached from the bruises, he was not having /this/. "Starlight shut up please." he mumbled. he then realised he had yet another performance, and groaned loudly. he got up and got dressed, tiredly limping his way to the stage.It hurts.It hurts.it hurt.it had hurt.it will hurt.I will hurt.he proceeded to write in his book after the performance had finally ended, the pen making a satisfying noise as it hit the paper. he wrote it over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.his hands ached.but he didn't stop.over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.his hand bled from how it scraped against the hard, splintered wooden table.over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.and over.until he couldn't.until the soft flesh of his hand started to tear.until he felt like he'd pass out.until he heard the quiet voice of his sibling.the quiet sound of the door opening.until he felt himself being picked up out of his chair and placed in his bed.till he fell asleep.