Alone ~R.S.L.~ #Wattys2016

02

I slammed the door shut, leaning my back against it. Loosing your appetite when you're starving, is a not a good feeling.

But seriously, who cares? It's not like it's a new thing.

I took my shirt off, plopping on the bed, and extracted all my thoughts into the journal. It's usually a way to make me feel better.

But lately, it hasn't been the same in this room. Resting here, I always feel like I'm being watched. Like someone's eyes are on me, or maybe their mind.

And what's weird, is that I like it. I like the feeling I get, when I know someone has their eyes sealed on me. To others, it might sound creepy, but to a person who wishes for having someone to show him what care is, is something worth a tear.

And just by thinking of it, a weak smile cracks on my face. Something I haven't done in ages, and it feels good.
I stop writing and sighed heavily running a hand through my hair. Another sleepless night, staring at the ceiling?

Don't mind if I do.

"Stinch," yup. It's gonna be a restless night. Max barged in making me sit up Turing my attention to him.

"What do you want? " I blankly said my face expressions as cool as ice. Speaking your mind is definitely not a way to deal with bullies.

"What did you just say?" His eyes went wide. "I said, what do you want."

The way I spoke, already said that I need to be left alone right now. "and you dare speak of me in such a way?" He said grabbing me by my shoulder, for the hundredth time today.

"Listen, I'm seriously fed up with you. Can you just leave?" The way I said that was odd, it wasn't how a victim talks to his bully. But I was sick of having him come barge in here everyday, just to beat me up, then leave.

"STOP DEMANDING ME, I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT WITH YOU." He screamed shoving me into the wall, making my back hurt more than ever. I whimpered clutching my head in pain.

"I'm not your rag doll, just leave me alone. " I cracked out, tears building their way in my eyes. "You're right, you're not a rag doll," he paused as his first made contact with my stomach, "you're my toy garbage car, I can drive you anywhere I want. Especially the streets. "

That was an awful metaphor to be honest.

Another punch went to my face, making me feel almost dizzy. I shivered as tears made their way down. "Cry baby, don't forget to cut today, and everyday." He finished before kicking my stomach yet again, as my body stood on the floor.

I started hyperventilating, trying to force air into my lungs. He just chuckled and walked out leaving me shivering, restless on the floor.

Soft whimpers escaped my lips as I weeped. There's no way I'm going to be able to walk peacefully through this now. I just want to know how it feels like to be adored by someone, I want to know how it feels like to have a good life, where someone respects you.

I need a comforting hug. I need someone to whisper calming words in my ear.

I need a parent, a friend. I need somebody.

But it seems like it's not what the future is holding for me.

I curled my body into a ball, and let the sobs escape my mouth. It really is an awful world, and an awful time to live in.

Not being able to get up, I decided to sleep on the cold, hard floor. Maybe this is what I deserve.

▶←◀→▶←◀ALONE▶→◀←▶→◀

I woke up to the sound of rain hitting my window forcefully, my body numb, cold, and restless.

"Wake up, blonde head." One of the gals said through the door. I sat up the ground, wincing as every muscle moved. Hopefully, last night's beating up isn't going to be present today.

Glancing at the window, a grey-like sky came in view.

The fact that this is my favourite weather, is depressing. I can't deny that I love how it looks.

I put on a shirt on my cold, shivering body, and brushed my teeth and ruffled my knotted, blonde locks before taking a shower.

"Stinch, hurry up. Mrs. Harold needs to talk to you." I heard the same girl say as I got out of the bathroom, fully dressed.

Taking one last glance out the window, an unfamiliar car came in view. Is it time for me to leave hell?

I got out of the room, having to deal with Mrs. Harold.

Don't get me wrong, but she blames every problem that happens on the face of earth on me.

I knocked before going in to be greeted by new faces, adults to be clear.

"Good morning. " I calmly said before Mrs Harold asked me to sit.

I sat in front of the middle aged couple as she got out.

I know the reason why I am here, and am doing my best to make them feel good about me.

"Good morning, what's your name? " the brown haired man asked. I tried my best to put on a good smile and replied, "I'm Ross. "

He smiled back and introduces himself, "I'm Mark, and this is my wife, Stormie"

"How old are you, son?" She asked making a true smile creep on my face.

Son, she called me son.

"I'm 16."

"Tell us about yourself," Mark replied nodding in encouragement. "I-uh, there isn't a lot to tell. But I enjoy sports like hockey and football, I also love drawing and reading a lot," I paused scratching the back of my head noticing their smiles fade slightly, " and I write. That's pretty much it."

"Can you show us your wrist," Stormie asked, as I mentally face palmed myself for wearing short sleeves. No, I'm not going to be readmitted.

My hectic mind rushed as I questioned them. They weren't going easy on me, and my serious emotional state, and it hasn't even been half an hour yet.

"My wrist? Well, I -uh--"

"Please?" She repeated cutting me off.

I hesitantly showed my scarred wrist, a frown splayed on my face. Tears were starting to build their way up as I looked down.

I was so close, it hurts in a severe way to know I didn't make it.

"Th-these are old, I - I promise -"

"Thank for your time, Ross. " he cut me off, pretty disappointed.

I looked at them in disbelief, my mouth slightly opened. My hands shook as a tear escaped my eye from oppression .

I stood up, leaving them and got to the door, closing it softly behind me.

There's goes my hope.