"N-No, Jeremy, wait, sorry, OK?"Nothing, he kept crying, and I started to feel like crap, guy's first day, and I probably ruined it. Shit.
"Hey... It's OK, why are you crying?"
"N-No!"He said, cleaning his tears with his sleeve"
Y-You don't understand, I end up ruining everything I do! I should just kill myself... I'll be making the world a favor..."
"Wait, what? No! Don't say that, OK ? You are good, better than anyone before... Even...Even me!"He seemed to stop sobbing, which i was relieved with.
"R-Really?
"Yes, look, it's OK to feel like that in your first day. Now lets get back to work, OK?"
He sniffed one last time
"OK..."
We sat on our places again, and I casually looked at Jeremy once in a while, seeing if he was OK, and he was. Relieved, I was able work better. Luckily, everything went smooth, no other death robots.
"OK Jeremy,"
I sat up
""
He did too,and, as we exited the building, also shook hands. His house was in the opposite direction from mine, so we couldn't go together. On my walk home, I couldn't help but think about what Jeremy said earlier, about him being good at nothing, and that he wanted to kill himself. I actually felt sad for him, we were the same age, and I couldn't help to feel emotionally shocked. I couldn't imagine the things he had been through. I sighed and continued to walk home.
I was at bed now, thinking about earlier, about Jeremy. He seemed to be a pretty good guy, and seeing him like that was... I knew i had to help him, but how? I wasn't good with people, and now I needed to help a guy, or else, he could kill himself, because he was depressed. Very depressed. But what could I do? Maybe... No, surely, I was going to work the night shift with him.
Jeremy's P.O.V
After the usual time walking home, I finally saw the lights. I raised my pace, anxious to finally arrive. Once I opened the door with my keys, I was greeted by my uncle, who seemed hyped.
"Jeremy, you're back! How are you? How was it?"
He didn't even take a pause between the questions.
"It was... Good"
I said, remembering the events from before
"That's it, good?"
"Yeah..."
"OK..."
He seemed sad
""
"OK, Good night... Day"He returned to the living room, back to his TV.
I went to my room, which was in the second floor, and I got to the shower, which was also in my room. Opening the sink's faucet, I allowed the water to run through my arms, the water flowing trough my scars, scars of previous events, which I wouldn't admit I did even to my uncles.
It was time. I opened the cabinet and took out a razor blade, stained in blood, my blood. I slid it trough my arms, feeling the usual stinging and then dizziness sensation. Why did I do that? That was a question I always made, and I'v come up with my conclusion: I did it to feel alive, to feel something rather than solitude and sadness. Once I was done, I took a shower and went to my bed, letting the bed take control of me. For the second time this day, I cried. Why? Because I remembered the past hours, I remembered that now Mike probably thinks I'm an idiot. A good for nothing fool, and of course, he would be right. I also remembered that tomorrow was school day, and I was going to be bullied, as always. Once again, for the countless time since that times, the good times, I cried myself to sleep.
Arriving at school, I looked at my clock, and my eyes widened, I was late, and so were my bullies. There they were, talking between then, right at the front doors. Their leader, Jack, slowly looked at me, and, even in the distance, a grin appeared in his face. I dropped my things and started to run, run as fast as i could, to anywhere. I looked back, and I saw Jack, already behind me. He Jumped on me, and pinned me down. His friends got to me too, and together, they started to beat me. Punching, kicking, everything they could to damage me, also emotionally."Oh, whats this, the little boy will cry?"Jack started
"You worthless faggot, die already"
Another boy said.
"Why don't you cry to your mom? Oh yeah, she's dead!"Jack finished. Once they were full of beating me, they left me. After some time, I tried to get up and, using an enormous amount of energy, i was able to get up. Picking up my things, i walked to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, my face was all bruised, swollen and bleeding. I lifted my shirt, my torso was full of bruises, some new, others not. It wasn't like someone cared, though, no, no one cared about me, not even my own family. I was alone
