Scars Will Heal

Me Against the World

Hey my fellow followers the long wait has ended, I hope it has been worth it all. This story is taking me ages to write and publish as I am waiting until I have written the next chapter to publish the previous one. So this time I have finished chapter two but will not be publishing it until I have finished writing Chapter 3, I have decided to name these chapters after song titles that suit what has been happening within the chapter so far.

Enjoy!!

Chapter 1

Emil's POV

I wasn't always so anti-social or emotionless but 8 years of abuse will do that to a person; I used to have friends as well and a big brother, whose name was Lukas, I loved him so much and he looked after me being a year older and all, I looked up to him. My dad left my mother for another man when I was just seven, taking my brother with him; this made mother angry and hateful of men. Now I have no friends because I am afraid that they will see the scars; yes the scars were deliberate, I started when I was 10 years old always carrying a blade with me in case I feel the need. I always wear long sleeves now because "Hah that's what you deserve! Maybe you will cut a bit deeper next time!" was what mother said when she saw it. She even 'helped me out' a few times down my chest, back and legs.... But little did I know all of that was about to change.

I woke up at 5:30 to the sound of my alarm sounding, switching it off as fast as I could because SHE would complain of the noise (and just about anything else.) I get out of bed and wander over to my wardrobe to pull out my usual cloths of brown trousers and matching jacket, white shirt, ribbon and white lace-up boots. Dressing in my clean(ish) cloths and packing my bag before making my way down to the kitchen so as not to be late. Rule number 3; kitchen by 6:00. Walking into the kitchen, I feel something hard strike me and before I can comprehend what had happened I was strewn across the kitchen floor "What the F*** do you think you are doing in MY kitchen this late, you pathetic child!" My mother was stood over me with a spatula in her hands; she had hit me round the back of the head! "I was ummm just... getting my Ummm breakfast." Shit, wrong thing to say! I stand up slowly backing out of the kitchen to avoid another incident..... No such luck there though. "You think I am going to let you eat, I said down by 6:00 o'clock not five past now didn't I!?" What the hell? "What are you still doing here?" *Slash* "Hurry up out of my house you walking travesty!" Where the hell did that knife come from? Shit my shoulder. Running up the stairs to retrieve my bag, holding my shoulder in the process, trying to stem the bleeding and am out of the house within 5 minutes. Once outside I release a breath that I had not realised I was holding, looking down at my watch reading 6:15 and start my hour and a half walk to school. I once believed in God, and tried to pray for him to stop this; stop the pain, the sorrow and the abuse, let me get my friends back or help me to make new ones. I used to ask him 'What did I do to deserve this?' He never answered me though, he never stopped my pain or the tears from falling, I have been alone for far too long. I hate being alone there is no one to share these feelings with. I don't believe anymore, I have given up all hope at love and friendship seen as to be accepted you must first accept yourself!

-----Time skip-----

I arrive at school at 7:30, making it over an hour before class's start, so I decide to head to the library which I do every day, claiming the table in the farthest corner away from everyone else. I get a book out of my bag and start to read, only a few words into the chapter I start to feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. Looking down I see that the blood had seeped through my shirt and blazer, standing up I place my book back into my bag and make my way towards the closest bathroom. Once I am in the bathroom I take off my blazer and shirt to look at the extent of my injury only to find that the cut down my shoulder goes from the base of my neck down to my armpit, the blood is still flowing slowly, with some drying on my arm and torso. Retrieving a first aid kit from my bag (I tend to use it a lot) I pull out some anti-septic wipes and a bandage to tend to my wound. After many excruciating minutes of cleaning and bandaging the cut I put my shirt and blazer back on; still covered in blood and walk to my form room. It took me longer to clean it then usual! I had just sat down in my usual seat; in the far back corner, when the bell rang and students started to file in, I could see each of them as they entered the classroom, they all looked the same in their Icelandic uniform, seen as the school is situated in Reykjavik, our beautiful capital. My head has started to hurt as the pain in my shoulder intensifies, I can see a few students looking in disgust most likely at the blood covering my cloths. After a few strenuous minutes of waiting for the teacher, he finally walks through the door cutting off all of the whispered conversations around the room. Just as he turns around to face us and starts to call out the register, he spots the state of my cloths, when he reaches my name and calls me to the front of the class, I stand up unsteadily starting to walk down the aisle before everything turns black. The last thing I hear is "Emil, hang on. We are getting help now." I remember thinking quick take me before they can wake me up and stick me back into this nightmare!