The Badboys Lost Cause

Chapter one

Warning: this whole book is a trigger warning (probably idk I might change it)
***
I lay on the bathroom floor shaking as his words crashed over me over and over again.

"You'll never be good enough,"

Slap

"You don't deserve to live,"

Kick

"You're worthless,"

Kick

I remember in that moment I wanted to die. I wanted to die because I believed the words he was telling me. I was crying so hard I couldn't see what the bottle of pills I was holding was called. I couldn't care less. I just didn't want to feel anymore. He was right. He will always be right.

Just as I was getting the bottle open with my bloody fingers, my mom opened the door to find me crumpled on the floor, fumbling to get that dang bottle open.

She didn't know. I had told her everything was good. She suspected nothing. I saw her mouth moving but heard nothing. It was only once she kneeled beside me with tears streaming down her face that everything snapped into focus.

"Alaska honey what are you doing?"
I bet she had no idea what was going through my mind. She had no idea.

"I want it t-to s-stop," I said, the best I could. I saw her muttering and cursing under her breath as she called for my father. I didn't want her to.

"No, mom p-please, don't l-let him s-see me,"

That was another thing she was oblivious to. She had no idea just how screwed up I was.

***
Four months later
Today was my last day in the  recovery center. I didn't want to leave and see my father again. I didn't want to see the hatred in his eyes. Unfortunately there was nothing I could do to postpone the inevitable ball of rage that was my father.

Seeing how it was my mother that discharged me from the center, I was extremely relieved that I could put it off a little longer.

They still had no idea why. Nobody knew why I had tried to kill myself that night. Nobody ever would but me, and him. Derek had screwed me up inside and out, and I never wanted to see him again. I knew now that the things he told me were lies. I was stronger now, and I wasn't about to let another boy come into my life and tell me that I'm worthless. There was no way I would allow it.

Neither would my mother. After four months in recovery, she was extremely protective, as a mother would be. I doubt she would allow me to date until she was sure I would be able to handle it. In her eyes, that would never happen.

While my father could care less what happened to me, he had to put up a good show for my mother. He was another reason why not only was I not able to sleep at night due to nightmares, but while I had trust issues as well as the self esteem of a chicken. Yeah, it's that bad.

So I usually resort to bitterness and
sarcasm. At least that way nobody would get tangled into the web that is my life. I had spent four months perfecting this shell, and I doubt anyone would be able to successfully penetrate it.

After all, last time I had let someone in, it almost ended in my death.
***
Sorry this is so bad. This would be my second attempt at a book. Hopefully this one goes better. I'm also sorry this is so sad.