Brace yourselves, there are a lot of topics bringing up depression and self harm. Just a heads up.
Believe it or not, I had a life before I met Tyler. I'm not saying it was a good life, but it was life. During the time that my father was struggling with alcohol, I knew that there was something wrong with me. I didn't care about my well being, or about anyone elses. I'm sure that the people at school noticed, because I was asked down to the guidance counselor at least once a day. I never told anyone about my dad, I didn't have the option to. When the guidance counselor asked me about my home life, I always told her the same thing.
"My dad works late a lot, so I'm on my own quite a bit."
Sometimes my dad went to work at the local gas station, after quitting his job as a math professor, but he preferred to spend his days laying around the house, with only his bottles of vodka to keep him company.
"Are you sure you are feeling alright?" Ms. Black, the guidance counselor would ask me.
"Better than ever." I would smile, but that wasn't the case, and when my gym teacher caught sight of my wrists, Ms. Black called in a therapist. She also called in my dad, who was sick on the day that the meeting with the therapist was due to take place. So it was just me.
"Ms. Chapman, how is your father?" Mr. Bell, the therapist asked me.
"Oh, he has the stomach flu." I lied as my eyes darted around the schools office. It was my first year in high school, and I was only fourteen. You wouldn't believe the shit I experienced before I turned fourteen.
My mom left my dad when I was twelve, just about to turn thirteen. I knew that my parents relationship rested on rocky grounds for a while, and one day it all just fell apart. I never heard much from my mother after she left. I knew that she was trying to distance herself from the family. My dad took this harder than he should have. About a month after the divorce, my dad started going out later at night, and coming home drunk and confused. Each morning, I would wake up to get ready to go to school, and my dad would be passed out in the kitchen. Eventually the food supply started to lessen, so I got a job delivering papers, and bringing home microwavable dinners for me and my dad every night. This went on until I was thirteen, and I discovered that my dad stopped teaching. I encouraged him to get a job, so he worked at the Domo, a gas station close to our house. At least now I didn't need to worry about bringing home food. That didn't help my mental state though. There was always the problem at school.
In grade eight, there were the oubvious bullies. What could you expect from rich suburban kids? The torment was relentless, and I could never seem to find a solid friend. There was always the occaisonal pity filled person who would eat lunch with me, but never a real friend. The bullying got worse when a picture I drew was featured on display outside the office. It was just a picture of a piano, and really was nothing, but not to the eyes of the kids who have longed to be featured on that damn display.
"Hey, Chapman!" A sweet yet firm voice called from behind me as I walked down the back alley towards my house.
"That was quite the drawing."
I spun around. A girl with silky brown hair and piercing grey eyes stood a few feet away from me, and standing behind her were a group of at least five kids.
"T-thanks?" I stuttered. I didn't know who this girl was, but I recognized some of the other kids.
"Care to show us some more of your drawings?" She asked me, smirking.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Let me be Gone //Tyler Joseph// (#Wattys2016)
Fanfiction::COMPLETED:: Columbus was never a home for Emily. All she had was her alcoholic father and younger step brother. She never thought that things would get any better, until she met Tyler.
