Possessive Bruises - Ricky Horror

R.I.P.

Dedicated to : 

Ricky's POV: 

I literally woke up with a bang. And it wasn't sex or a gun. It was my head hitting the stupid fucking floor again. I slid off my bed like this most mornings to be honest but not as hard as this morning. I tended to often not care enough to the point where I'd fuck things up or simply get hurt. But anything I needed or cared for I put all my energy into it and hardcore focused. For example, my body. I was anorexic. I hated pretty much all of myself and my logic to fix that was to simply ignore it. I ignore food and drinks, sweets and anything that adds to my body. I wanted to be fly weight. I had then decided to stop thinking and get up. I stood up and went into my attached bathroom that was within my bedroom, I closed the door to that as I peed. Peeing was my thing man, I fucking loved peeing so much like I think the only reason I get up is because I want to pee. I then decided to get dressed into a black big hoodie, a slipknot one. I pulled on skinny jeans, but these ones weren't ripped. I fixed my hair and moved it around only to put a stupid fucking beanie on. I did my eyeliner and my face as usual was pale as hell. On that note, I got out of the bathroom and slid downstairs, grabbing my bag and a pair of toms. I had to be very quiet about every motion or thing that I did, not wanting to awake the two drunken monsters I had as parents. I went out the front door and I went on my way to school, as I was walking I put my headphones in and I began playing Slipknot. Who doesn't have Slipknot as an idol? Oh, that's right, fucking losers. I would never say that kind of shit out loud though. I was what you call a pussy, I looked tough on the outside but on the inside I screamed if you pretend to hit me. I sat underneath the tree that I'd always sat at, being the one area that I could say I favoured about the stupid school. I this one tree was my little area, mainly because no one hung out with me or simply wanted to be around me. I had pulled out my ancient iPod touch to change the song. I loved to play along in my head to the guitar of the songs. I liked guitar, and I can often be found fucking around with the guitars at the music shop downtown. All of the sudden, I was knocked over. 

"Fucking emo!" John yelled. John was like a person bully to me, he never failed. 

"Faggot satan worshipper!" Someone else had yelled, before I was lifted by my collar of my sweater. I closed my eyes preparing for whatever it is that was to come. 

"You speak english?" John retorted. I spoke amazingly fan-fucking-tastic english for your information, and I"d love teaching you sometime. But today is just not the day, I have to deal with your bullshit so, maybe next time? 

I shook my head yes instead of saying anything. 

"Speak up, I can't hear you! Oh that's right you didn't say anything." My head was turned swiftly to the right when my left cheek was slapped. I made a small wince noise and I took a sharp quiet breath in. The other kid had dropped me down, and I hit ground loudly like I did this morning except it wasn't my upper half hitting the ground, it was my bottom half. I pulled my phone out and changed the song three times. 

School pretty much was the same thing everyday for me. Make an excuse for why I can't do gym, stay quiet in health, stay extra quiet in spanish, get shit thrown at me in math, english, history and science, speak up in Music only to be called a nerd, Speak up in art only to be called a failure. After school, I always had my pockets bulging with the notes that I'd gotten in class. They were always hate, and I kept them. You'll see why.

"Look at him, he's limping!" John yelled after me, and decided to take advantage of that... by beginning to chase after me. I tried to run, but it hurt so bad. Reason I was limping was because today the teacher didn't let me get out of gym. I had to participate, with my plain black shirt, and my jeans. I got beaten up, in the physical same fucking room as the teachers and still wasn't helped or noticed. I had kept trying to move at my fastest pace, only to trip and fall. That was it for me. "Haha, Guys look he's down. Grab him! " Sam yelled, laughing down at me, as two of his other friends grabbed my wrists and dragged me to grass where they'd beaten the rest of anything I had left in me.. out. I laid there for a while, and when I did get up I went into the house to only recieve double, if not triple what I'd just gotten. I had then had to limp my way around the house as fast as I could playing a classic game of "Can I dodge these damn bottles?". I played it almost every week, so I was often good but tonight I had a limp and the shit beaten out of me. I eventually got my way upstairs and I locked the door. I went into my bathroom in the bedroom and sighed at the sight of myself. Not only was I fucking fat, but I had a bloody nose, and a gash from my lower ear to my chin, and a busted lip. I had new bruises on my collarbone and chest. I turned the sink on low, and I cleaned up my face. The pain that I felt when I cleaned the gash made me feel something. It made me feel good. I had alot of long thin lined scars on my wrists. I had some thin, some thick, some deep, some light, some red, some white. They came in all different forms, from different times and dates, but all from the exact same thing. My razor blade. I had discovered the beauty of selfdestruction when I accidentally had received a blade. [I don't want to teach anyone how to get one so, I worded it differently.] I had decided that I'd wanted another go at it tonight, so I took off my pants and boxers as I crawled into the shower. I had slid myself down the wall of the shower, the water pouring gently right onto me. I slid the blade across my thighs many, many times and I smiled in the face of pain as the water hit my cuts. I then flipped over my right arm and I began to slid the blade there, not too many times, and same for the other arm. I laid there, absorbing the pain till I hit the temporary numb I liked in my arms. I then got up and grabbed a towel, putting my blade away in my secretarea. I got dressed into loose black sweatpants with a grey stripe down the side and a marilyn manson shirt. I slid back on my other slipknot sweater, the one that smelled like me more because I had slept in it. I put my iPod on the dresser on charge as I had put the earbuds in and played my sleep playlist on a low volume. I laid down in my bed, and pulled my knees up and I tucked my head down a bit. I then slowly began to drift asleep. ((The Next Day, brought to you by Carter's dick)) Devin's POV: I had to start a new school. Correction: Another new school. I'd always been alone, and singled out in any other school I went to. I liked to listen to.. well rock bands and that's why I didn't fit in. Well I didn't fit in because of how weird I dressed. See, I'm genderfluid. I'm a genderfluid punk as I say, so the fact that I dress very feminine is what go me bullied at times. I was a very feminine person, but I was also masculine at times. Today I had wanted to dress masculine in a sense. I grabbed some sort of black hoodie that as light, with a nice pretty dark red shirt with a little pocket. I simply gave up when it came to the bottom half of myself so I just put on a pair of navy jeans with some black vans. I grabbed my smaller mirror and sat on my bed with my makeup bag. I had to do my eyebrows, then make sure I looked as pale as fucking snow. I did my makeup within the half hour and began on my way to school. 

Ricky's POV: 

The funniest fucking part about me is that my black eye makeup and concealer would cover the actual black eye. I actually slid out of my bed onto the floor nicely today, not slamming anything. I got dressed into basically the same thing as yesterday except a different shirt, and a different pair of black jeans. I grabbed my bag and went out. It's been a day and an hour since I'd drank or eaten anything. Good. I walked to my tree today, keeping my head down. I sat down and pulled out a sketchbook and I drew this crazy psychopath clown. It was a double coloured pen I was using, I only had black and red so it looked insane. I then felt someone sit down next to me, instead of pick me up. 

"Hey love. What's that you're drawing?" He asked. I kept my head down, afraid to look. They sounded new to me, I'd never heard this voice before. So calming, so kind. I decided to stay quiet, not knowing whether to trust or not. 

"Not much of a speaker huh?" I nodded in reply to this. They had such a soft kind voice and I ju- shit! What about the stupid bullies, what if they hurt him? I can't I won't let them. I have to try to protect him, and think of the devil here they came. 

"Oh hello, what are you three in a gang or group of some sort? How was detention?" The boy spoke and my eye went a bit wide surprised he had the guts to approach them with such an attitude. I wanted to tell him to stop or be quiet, but I couldn't. It was like I'd been muted and everytime I tried to speak the will became lesser. John got closer to the boy and I scooted, trying to cover him. The boy gave me a funny look and John snickered.

"The pathetic faggot is going to protect his kind. Not gonna happen today. " And with that I was kicked in the stomach and lifted by my collar, thrown to the side. I held my stomach for a bit, and tried to make my way back to him. I was not letting his beautiful face get a single mark on it. John was talking shit and making his head seem big but the beauty kept replying and I watched John's fist carefully, seeing as he kept clenching it and right before he took a swing at him I grabbed his hand. 

"Ew get him off he's contagious he'll fucking spread his gay!" With that, I was thrown off his hand and I crawled in front of the boy. I stayed there and I took the beating for him. 

"Love, what are you doing this for? I don't deserve this kindess..." He said softly, into my ear. I stayed there until John decided to stop. 

"You, new faggot, you're lucky you had this one to protect you. You're off the books now." I groaned and laid there, keeping my hand on my side. The boy scooted over to me and he placed his hand on my cheek. John and his friends left, and the boy looked sympathetic. 

"Why did you do that?" he asked again and I thought to myself. No one as beautiful as him should have to go through anything as bad as what I do, and it's my job to keep him safe. I will not let him get even the smallest sliver of what I do. 

"I-I.. w-won't l-let th-that h-happen to y-you." I managed to mumble and I tried scooting myself up. The pain would wear off like always. He looked at me with a different facial expression this time, as if he was reading me like a book. I turned my head away and he pulled me into his lap and pet my hair. It was so comforting and relaxing but I still hadn't known his name. 

"I'm so sorry dear. Stay here with me, and I'll bring you to class with me." He reassured me and I stayed quiet until the reoccurring thought of his name. 

"Um e-excuse m-me but um w-what's your n-name?" I look up him and I smile softly, but it was fake. 

"I'm Devin, Devin Sola. I'm starting school here today, and based off what I'd seen and heard it won't be much different from my old school. I'm so sorry this happened. " He was so kind to me, and in reality I didn't deserve it. 

"W-We gotta g-get to class now." I got up slowly and immediately wished I hadn't. He took my hand and decided that he'd take me to class. I wouldn't let him protect me at all. He watched my entire school day, and at the end of the day gave me a piece of paper that had his number on it. Out of the tons of mean notes that I had in my pockets, this was the only one that was positive. I began my walk out of the building home, limping again. I saw him, and I decided to pass by him. He turned to me and simply gave me a hug, and a soft and gentle pat on my shoulder. 

"Be safe getting home love, and please text me." I nodded and kept going. Devin got in the car, and I had heard bickering. I wanted to help, and interfere but last time I checked I wasn't so good at that.