Shadow (PewDiePie)

Chapter 2

/ 2 \

I sighed. Was I really doing this? I hadn't told anyone my problems, since I didn't really have any friends. I didn't really know how to explain it, but I was going to give it a try.

DarkAngel:

It started when I was eighteen. I wanted to move out, to go to college, to make more friends. I had only three. I was super-excited the moment I turned eighteen, because my parents were- They kind of liked to drink. A lot. So, as you could tell, they weren't in the best financial situation. I had pity for them, but I also felt mad at them for making me pretty much raise myself. I matured faster than my other friends because I was forced to. Mom and Dad went out every day to the bar instead of going to work, so as soon as I was legally allowed to work, I had to, because my parents made me support their addiction. They were almost never sober, and when they were, they were hungover. So, the only times I actually saw my parents on my breaks from work and school, they were either passed out drunk, stoned but awake, or rarely, sober and angry. I kind of grew to hate my parents... I hate to say that, but I guess it's true...

I paused to wipe away tears that I didn't know I was shedding. I took a breath and continued.

So, since I had to work a night-shift and go to school during the day, I was always quiet and sleep-deprived, which is why no one wanted to talk to me or to be my friend. I got depressed, until while I was surfing the internet on my hour break of my weekend job, I saw a site called YouTube. I clicked on it, wondering what it was. Long story short, I quit my weekend job so I could have a break, and used YouTube as my coping method. I was kind of considering... Suicide... It sounds stupid to me now, but it was serious then. But after I found you on YouTube, I didn't feel as sad anymore. So... You kind of saved my life. Thank you.

I took my hands off the keyboard to wipe my face, which was covered in tear streaks. I took a breath and hit the send button. I felt so weird for putting all that in one single message, to a man that I'd never even met. I did know a lot about him though. Plus, I felt like I could trust him. I waited for a couple minutes for him to read it. I sat back up on my bed. Right after I sat up, I heard someone walking up the stairs. I quickly pushed my laptop off my lap and leaped out of bed, sprinting for the closed door. I just barely made it to the knob to lock it before one of my parents tried the knob. My hand unconsciously went to my throbbing cheek. Even touching it with the weight of a feather, it sent pain through my face. There was a slit where my mom had cut me, and it was surrounded by a bleeding black, blue, and purple bruise. I had almost blocked it out, what with the whole PewDiePie stuff. I'd learned how to block out the pain my parents caused me. They argued almost constantly, but they didn't yell at each other or hit each other, they took it out on me. I was like their living stress-stone, or a punching bag. I was where they vented their screams and anger. Speaking of, my dad was pounding on my door, yelling in his slurred voice.

“OPEN THIS!” He screamed, but it turned out more like “OPN ISS!” Because of how drunk he was. I stood back from the door. I knew he couldn't get in, because I'd done this dozens of times before. I usually didn't make it in time, though. I saw myself in the mirror, and realized that I wasn't wearing my mask. I looked around the room for it. I watched Cryaotic (He was tied with Smosh for my 2nd favorite) and I thought that the cry mask was a cool idea. At first I wore it just because I thought it was cool, but then I wore it because I couldn't stand to see the permanent scars that decorated my face. The bags under my eyes that had been stained there.

Under the constant bruises, cuts, and other marks, and before I had the scars, I used to have beautiful and sparkling emerald eyes, full lips, a small nose that fit with my face perfectly, light brown wavy and bouncy hair that fell down my face and shoulders perfectly, and my cheeks were always a pretty pink. Now, my eyes were usually dull, plus the constant black eyes. My lips were always in a tight frown which pulled them thin, and they were cracked and they bled sometimes. My nose was swollen most of the time. I could almost never escape into a quick shower when Mom and Dad were out at the bar. I'd been trying to do that more recently, but for now my hair was still flat and not shiny. My cheeks were red and puffy. Constantly. Mom and Dad seemed to love to mess up my face a lot. Only when I watch PewDiePie's videos would my eyes sparkle a little and my lips would pull up into a smile. The comment I left on his video was an understatement. He really did save my life. I would need to leave eventually, but my parents wouldn't let me. They still had rights. They took all ways of contact away. I'd never thought of leaving, honestly. I didn't have anywhere to go, I didn't have any money, and it wasn't considered child abuse anymore, since I was 22. I snapped away from my thoughts, and turned back to my laptop. Pewdie had responded.

PewDiePie:

Wow. I- I'm speechless. I honestly wish I could come over there and give you a hug... No matter how creepy that sounds. It means the world to me that I was the reason that you didn't commit suicide... I'll do anything to help you with your problems. Don't give up. You have still so much to live for.

PewDiePie:

And... I have a question to ask you, but only if you're okay with it.

DarkAngel:

I should be thanking you. Just that you listened to my stupid self-pity rant means so much. Like I said, you saved my life. My life wasn't worth saving... but thank you. I can't stress enough how much you helped me, and I can't thank you enough either. It felt so good to get this out there. I had it all bottled up inside, with no one to help me. I'm all alone.

Of course you can ask me a question, by the way. I don't mind at all!

PewDiePie:

My question is: Why are you there? You need to run away! Your parents are going to hurt you worse than just bruises soon... No one should have to even have to get bruises from their parents, let alone anything else!!

I furrowed my brows for a half second, but quickly decided that I shouldn't tell him what was actually happening here. I would leave out the amount of actual pain I was going through.

DarkAngel:

I know I shouldn't be here. I know that I should get away. But I don't have anywhere to go. I'm alright for now.. I can get over the bruises. Really.

PewDiePie:

What? No, you have to get out of there! Really!

DarkAngel:

Please, Pewdie. I can't get you involved in this. Like I said, you have a perfect life. You shouldn't be bothered with my problems. :)

PewDiePie:

Really? That's a horrible excuse. You need help, and if I have to give it to you, I'm fine with that.

DarkAngel:

Please. I'm a grown woman, if I need to get out of here, I will. I just don't have a place to go or anyone to run to. Just let it drop for now, okay?

PewDiePie:

…

PewDiePie:

I will let it drop for now. But I WILL help you bro.

DarkAngel:

Thanks for dropping it, and for-everything. But I don't need help. ;)

PewDiePie:

So... Can we just talk on a lighter note?

DarkAngel:

Sure, I'd be happy to! :D

I smiled. I was just talking to PewDiePie. Now we were just having a conversation! A normal one, like friends! WHAT?