A Light in the Darkness

Chapter one

A/N: I have recently got a new editor for my story, so that is why the first chapter was reposted. I plan on updating every Saturday, so enjoy, readers!

Chapter one

Ding!

I jolted awake as the final bell of the school day rang. I made the ameture mistake of not sleeping on the night before the first day of my junior year. I stand up slowly, grabbing my backpack, slinging it over my back, and shrinking down into my high-collared, royal blue fleece jacket. I start heading towards the door of my study hall as I hear a voice behind me call my name.

"Nicholas, may I speak to you?" my chemistry teacher asks right as I'm about to walk out the door.

"Sure, Mrs. Wilson, what do you need?" I ask, looking my teacher.

"What's wrong? Did you not sleep well last night? You seemed fine first period."

"I'm alright, I guess. I haven't got any of my eszopiclone, my insomnia medication, at the moment so it's been hard to sleep at night," I reply, honestly.

"Try to get a bit more sleep, please?" she asks as she places a caring hand on my shoulder. I knew she really cared about me.

"I'll try," I reply shyly, shrinking down again.

"Have a great day. Now catch your bus."

As I finally get out into the bus yard, the buses are about ready to leave. I make it down to my bus just in time. I get back to my seat and pull out my phone and earbuds. '2 new text messages', the screen of my iPhone 5 flashes, but I ignore them. I turn on my music and put my earbuds in. Less than 20 seconds into one of my favorite songs, David, one of my best friends who sits across the row from me, pops out my left earbud. I turn to him, glaring.

"What do you want?" I sigh.

"Did you hear that Bre plans to come back this year?"

"No, I haven't. Not that it matters much. I liked her back then, and even after my memory loss last November, I still have a little bit of that left. She rejected me then, she's gonna reject me now."

"You don't know that, man. It's been a year since she left for cyberschool."

"November will be a year," I corrected, remorse in my voice.

"That's when she's coming back."

"So I have two months to prepare."

"Prepare for what?" he asks.

"The disappointment," I say, as we reach his stop.

"This conversation isn't over," he says, walking off the bus. Once the bus starts moving again, I put my earbud in and listen to my music. I still had 20 minutes of the bus ride left, I was going to savor every minute of it. When we got to my stop, I resented the fact that I had to go back into my house. The minute I walked into my house I hear a crash in the kitchen.

"Hey, dummy, why don't you stop being worthless and come in here and clean up your brother's mess?" I heard my mother call. I didn't bother replying; she knew I was home and didn't care. I went and cleaned up the Kool-Aid mess my three year old brother made and went to my room. Since it was the first day of school, I didn't have any work I needed to do, so I opened up my computer. Seconds later, my bratty eight year old sister strolls in, turns on my Xbox and the television, grabs a controller, and starts booting up a game.

"What are you doing, Maddie?" I ask her.

"Playing the Xbox."

"Yea, my Xbox. In my room. You didn't even ask."

"Yes, I did," she stated blankly.

"No, you didn't," I say as I walk over and turn off the system.

"Daddy!" she yells.

"Let her play the Xbox you greedy child," my stepfather yells at me. "Matter of fact, come do the dishes."

I trudge out of my room, go to the kitchen, and start washing dishes while my mother and stepfather continually talk behind my back. By the time I finish a half hour later, I go back to my room and see my sister has grown bored and left, but she left the game console and the television turned on. I turn the systems and go back to my computer. I open up the web browser and go to Wattpad. Ever since my friend got me into this site a couple weeks ago, I've been hooked. I mostly read on the website. I had a couple of mediocre books, but that's only because my friend Abby asked me to write her a furry story about wolves or whatever. The other one was a romance requested by my friend Saige. They both think I'm a good writer but I don't see it. I just don't get the romance thing. At 16, I've only had one actual girlfriend, and that lasted a week. I can easily say I've never been in love. I go to my library on Wattpad and open a book I had started reading, My Wattpad Love. Again, I've never understood romance, but yet it's my favorite thing to read about. Weird, isn't it? As I start reading, the screen goes black, then a bright blue screen with a black box in the center pops up, and I immediately recognize it as Ella. "What do you need?" I ask, laying my head down on the hard surface of my desk.

"I just wanted to talk is all. What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing," I say.

"I know you better than almost anyone. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I insist.

"Is this still because I'm dating Steve?"

"No Ella. I'm fine; promise."

"Why do you keep lying?"

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just feeling depressed."

"Why?"

"I don't know, the weather? You know I have no control over this stuff."

"Yea, I know, but usually you at least try to act happy."

"Well, I'm at home and I'm done pretending now. I don't care anymore," I sighed. "I've been in a massive decline recently."

"I'm sorry, Nicholas, I really am."

"Can I just go to bed?"

"It's only six P.M. and we both know you're not just going to bed."

"Would you rather watch me do it?"

"No, Nick. And I swear to God, if I find out you even touch a blade, I'll walk there and you'll regret it."

"Vicodin and bleach?"

"Nicholas!"

"Fine, I'm going. Night." I close my laptop screen, which automatically hangs up the call. I crawl into bed, grab my phone, and start reading off Wattpad. As much as I love the book, my thoughts keep distracting me. Is it my fault I'm such a mess? It can't be my fault I had to fight with bipolar depression, could it? Who wanted to keep me around, anyway? I was abused by my family, I had depression, anger problems, attachment disorders, eating disorders... heck, who could love a freak with scars on his wrists?