fix me

two

michaels pov

ding ding ding, ugh noooo i don't wanna go to school i mumble. after about 15 minutes of laying in bed i finally work up the courage to get up out of my warm cacoon of blankets. i head to the bathroom to take a quick shower before i leave. as i am getting ready to shower i glance down at my wrists; sigh a memory flashes through my head.

memory:

i walk down the stairs to see my father watching football beer bottles everywhere. "dad, i need to tell you something" i say to him quietly. "what do you want" he slurs back at me. well i... i um i'm gay. i finally say feeling the weight being lifted off my shoulders. "what the f*ck no son of mine is a worthless faggot!" he yells. i stand there a few tears dripping from my eyes and onto my shirt. he stumbles over to me and before i have any time to react he slaps me across the face. i drop to the ground immediately tears pouring from my eyes. he kicks me hard to the side multiple times repeating the same phrase over and over " not a faggot" "not a faggot" "not a faggot". eventually he passes out on the couch next to me.

i then crawl up the stairs to my room sobbing from the pain and heartbreak. once i reach it i stumble to my bathroom; needing to feel some type of relief. i dig through the cupboards and find an old sharpener, taking it apart quickly to find what i'm looking for, the blade. i slide down the door and sit on the cool ground. i slowly drag the cold metal across my pink skin creating multiple horizontal lines. one cut, for being a faggot, two cuts for being a f *ck up, three cuts for being worthless. i watch as blood pours out of my arm onto the white tile. i look at the razor, bright red with blood dripping off the tips.

end of memory.

i shutter at the memory of the first time i did it and proceed with my shower. after i'm out i decide on what to wear; black skinny jeans, black green day tank, some braclets and black vans. when i'm somewhat content with how i look i head downstairs without eating breakfast and bolt out the door to my car not wanting to wake my dad up who is asleep on the couch. after about a 5 minute drive i arrive at my own personal hell. i slowly get out of the car and blast bring me the horizon through my phone. as i'm walking to my locker i see a crowd start to form by the lockers so out of curiousity i go over and check out what's going on. my jaw drops when i see what's happening, Cameron Dallas has Luke, pinned up against the lockers beating him up and calling him names. the sluts and douche bags all laugh when Cameron makes fun of Luke for crying. after 10 more minutes of the crowd chanting for Cameron to beat the shit out of him and Luke being defenseless Cameron finally leaves along with the rest of the crowd. i stand in shock as i see Luke doubled over in pain in front of his locker as first period bell rings. i watch as he slowly attempts to get up and make his way to the bathroom. i make my way to first period arriving there only to hear people talking about the "fight". there are comments like "omg did you see the fight Cameron kicked that fags ass" too "good that homo deserves it". i couldn't stand hearing those nasty comments so i asked my teacher for a clinic pass. i leave the classroom and make my way to the bathroom, as i enter i hear sniffling. i sigh because i know it's Luke. i also hear muffled sobs so i try to say something "hey luke.. i saw the fight are you okay" is all that comes out. of course he's not okay i think to myself, look at him... when i recieve no answer i trudge over to the stall he is in and open the door, my heart drops when my eyes meet his watery blue ones.