You know, I've never understood love. Most say its a feeling. Others say it's what keeps us going, what gives us hope. People say it is something to live for, and that it's the best feeling in the world, unlike any other, and that it's all that you really need. I call it all bullshit. But what would I know? I've never recieved any sort of love. To everyone I'm just the freak. The faggot. The disapointment. I'm not like those other kids, you know. 16- Looking for jobs, planning for the future, falling in love. I stopped caring about all of those things at about the age of 13, when I realized there was no hope for me, no place for me in the world. While everyone shoots for the stars, I will be left on Earth, in this hell, to rot. Like I've always been told, it's my place. To be left in hell to rot. Besides, love is a trap. I don't trust it. Don't be fooled, love always ends in misery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I felt a tiny drop of rain fall onto my black jacket, as I looked up at the foggy sky. The rain drops multiplied, and soon, I was left in the middle of the street, getting soaked. But I didn't mind. I loved the rain. Damn, it was a long day... some teacher kept bugging me about my bruises. I told her that it was my "older brother," because we had gotten into a fight over the tv remote or something. She bought it, but it surely wouldn't work the next time bruises appeared on my arms and face...
Soon, the sidewalk became a small creek, and my black vans were completely soaked. I began walking down the street, my hands in my jacket pockets, and thought. I thought about the stars. I thought about alternate universes. I thought about pretty much everything someone could possibly think about in the short five minutes of walking home from the bus. After finally closing my thoughts about the sequel to the book I was writing, I saw a ratty blue and white house appear on the horizon, and I walked to the garage, and simply pulled it open. I had fears that someone unwanted could get into the house that way, but who would want to rob that house? I slipped inside and let the heavy door fall, and made my way inside.
Immediately, I threw my backpack on the the kitchen table and raced upstairs, where my computer waited for me. I plopped myself into the squeaky black chair before it, and was pleasantly surprised to see that YouTube was already open. I clicked on the playlist marked ":D" and was alarmed to hear a loud obnoxious ad urging me to buy some new makeup product. I gave an irritated sigh, and waited the necessary five seconds until the "skip ad" button became avaliable. As soon as I clicked it, I basically sprinted to my bedroom window and yanked it open. I swung my leg over the windowsill, and carefully placed my feet on the roof. I cautiously planted my left foot into the hole that my mother had made at least twelve years ago...
I remember it so clearly. We were doing our usual routine- She would carry me up to the roof when Zach wasn't home, and she would play a specific song. It was Heroes by David Bowie. We would dance all night, and just forget about all of our problems. Just- let go. She had the most unforgtable smile, that just made my day. It only appeared when we were on the roof, dancing the night away. She wasn't a generally happy person- my mom was clinically depressed. She was always in and out of hostpitals for the mentally unstable... and being at home didn't help at all. I still have nightmares about standing there- outside of their bedroom door and hearing the screams and calls for help. I, of course, at the age of three, had no idea what was going on at the time. But I knew that my mother was in trouble. So I burst into their room and saw him standing over her, and she was on the floor sobbing. He lifted his hand high in the air, and it came down and hit her hard right across the face.
I couldn't take any more.
I raced over to their dresser and grabbed the heaviest book that I could possibly carry, and threw it at him as hard as I could. Of course that didn't have any effect at all. He shoved me aside and started hitting her again. I screamed bloody murder for him to stop- but he kept hitting her. Hot tears streamed down my face as I pounded my hands on his torso, begging him.
That was the night that I nearly got beaten into a coma. I am so glad that it was me though- I'm just glad that I saved her from possible death.
I snapped back to reality to realize that I was on the top of the roof, and I laid down, and felt the rain that had turned into a slight drizzle fall onto my face. I closed my eyes and listened to David Bowies angelic voice, and pictured my mom, dancing with me, like she did before she took her own life.
