Don't Break Me

Chapter 2

Justin's POV:

"Stop crying you little bitch!" He screamed at me. Blood was running out of my nose and my head had a gash. Black dots started to invade my vision. I was screaming out in pain and my body felt like giving up then and there. His voiced screamed straight into was soul. Hurt evident in his tone. "Get up! Get the fuck up!" Those words rang throughout my head and more kicks connected with my ribs. I wouldn't be surprised if they were cracked. "If you don't get the fuck up, you'll live to regret it," he yelled moving closer to me.

Just as my vision started to black out, my head shot up and I was dripping in sweat. My eyes moved rapidly around the room taking in my surroundings. Just another dream I thought to myself as I put my head in my hands trying to regroup myself from my thoughts. Even when he isn't in my presence he stills manages to torture me mentally. After a few minutes of sitting there, I decided to take a shower and clean myself up. I felt dirty. I stumbled clumsily to the shower undressing myself. I turned on the water, making the temperature nice and warm. I stepped into the shower and sighed in relief when the warm water drizzled down my sweaty body. I just stood there thinking about the dream. It felt so real. I could feel the pain. I could hear him shouting. I could feel myself becoming broken. I snapped out of my thoughts with the urge to cut my skin. I grabbed my blade and placed it against my scar ridden forearm. I pressed down and slid the blade horizontally, sighing in relief. I missed this feeling, even though I only did it yesterday. Is that bad? No. Not for me. It's my escape. I was thinking about the dream, continuing to cut into my forearm. I didn't even realize that I had cut five times.

I went to blade the away, but decided to one more to get me through today. It's only Tuesday which means I have another four days of pain at the place I should feel somewhat safe. Satisfied with the feeling I put the blade down and looked down at my now bloody forearm. It made me be to express what I was feeling inside after the dream. Pain. I put my arm underneath the warm water, hissing as it hit my fresh cuts. But I didn't mind the pain. I watched as the blood trickled down the drain. I quickly washed myself down and turned off the shower. I stepped out and placed a towel around my hips, using another towel to dry myself down. I put a bandage over the cuts and brushed my teeth. I don't want people at school to know I cut. They'll just use it to hurt me more. I looked at myself in the mirror disgusted with what was looking back at me.
Ugly.
Fat.
Broken.
Worthless.
Pale.
Tired.
All these words can be used to describe what was looking back at me. Feeling a tear slip from eyes, I decided to stop looking and quickly walked out of the bathroom. I walked to my closet and picked out some clothes to wear today. A white v-neck shirt with black skinny jeans and red supras. I quickly got changed, and styled my hair. Sighing, I packed my bag and walked downstairs. Thankfully my mother wasn't home so I can skip eating without being questioned. I don't feel hungry after the dream anyway. I poured a glass of water and downed that quickly, grabbing my keys and walking out of the house to my car. I jumped in and turned on the car preparing myself for the day ahead. Just a few hours. Then I can go home and sleep again. My life is seriously like a repeat on the daily.

I drove to school with the radio on low volume. I just thought about how I ended up in this position. I used to be happy. They was a time were I loved life. I loved school. I had friends. I ate. I liked what I saw in a mirror. But all that changed because of him. He broke me, in such a short time. All the beatings, the insults, the hurt and pain he has put me through. Why? I don't know. Do I want to know? No. I deserve it anyway. If they all say those things, there must be some truth. I am worthless. The only reason I haven't ended my own misery yet is my stupid mind thinking things will get better. But they won't. I snapped out of my thoughts and turned into the school driveway. I pulled in my usual parking spot and turned off my cars. I already felt eyes burning through me. I heard the laughter and the insults. I put my head against the steering wheel, fighting off tears. But it didn't take long before I let out loud sobs. I jst want to die. I don't want this life anymore.

After a while of sobbing and my face becoming wet, my eyes began to sting. I regrouped myself wiping away the last of my tears. I inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath. I grabbed my backpack and stepped out of my car, shutting the door and locking the car. Almost instantly I began to hear the insults. "Look he hasn't died yet." One person said. "Why does even bother trying to look good. He's ugly," another one said. Feeling tears begin to fall again I rushed up the steps and headed for the front entrance. That was where I felt a hand grab my right arm. It pulled me harshly making me trip over my feet. I landed on my knees and kept my head down, already knowing who it was. "Look up at me you faggot," he spat. I slowly raised my head, only to feel a fist slam against my jaw. I fell backwards and pain shot throughout my jaw. Blood starting to spill out of lip which was now busted. I felt a kick to my ribs making me clench into a ball and exhale harshly, gasping for air. This isn't fair.

"Good morning faggot," he spat. I could feel his glare on me but I kept my eyes closed, trying to fight away more tears. "Fucking answer me, or you will regret it." His voice pierced in my ear making me whimper. I knew he face was extremely close to mine. With all the energy I had, I somehow managed to stutter pathetically.

"G-g-g-good m-morn-nin-ng J-Jas-son."

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Hey everyone hope you are all well :)
Thank you so much for reading. Please leave a comment on what you think so far! I will try to update as frequently as I can.
Until next time, thank you and have a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year :)