Alex
One year.
It's been one year since I've talked to any of my so called friends. I remember pushing them all away. I couldn't handle pretending to be someone I wasn't. I couldn't handle dating people I had no attraction towards. Because they were girls. I couldn't keep on using people because I was scared of myself. My true self.
***One Year Earlier***
I confidently walked down the halls with a group of guys behind me. They were supposedly my friends. The only people I actually care about in this dumb group are Zack and Rian. I've known them since I was 7, that was when I first moved to Baltimore. We would hang out everyday during the holidays. Originally I went to an all boys school where I wasn't happy because I was bullied quite badly, so my mom moved me to another school which coincidentally Zack and Rian went to. From that day on we've been pretty much become inseparable.
I smiled at the memory as I continued to walk to lunch. We all sat at our table, me sitting in between my actual friends. I felt safe being near them. It was nice to feel safe for once when you're constantly on edge about everything.
"So, Alex," Josh said, a smug look on his face. " I heard a rumor that you and Lisa are dating. How long have you two been together?" He asked still giving me the same look. I immediately tensed up.
Should I lie? No. I can't lie anymore. I can't. I'm too weak. But it's what they want. I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!
At this point I was shaking. Beads of sweat made their way down my forehead. Is this really my life? Is this how "Alex" ends? Being this person is like a battle that I can't win. I slowly looked up, only to find the entire cafeteria staring directly at me. Shakily I stood up and ran home. I ran straight upstairs ignoring my mothers worried cries. As soon as I reached my room I slammed the door shut and laid face down on my bed. Do you wanna know what I did next? I cried. I cried for the lies. I cried for the fake friends. I cried for every little thing that was wrong with me. I cried for my flaws and imperfections. I cried for not being the perfect son my father wanted. I cried because I liked boys. I cried because I knew that I am the world's biggest asshole. And lastly, I cried for myself.
Why am I like this? Was the last thought I had before I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
***Back To Present Time***
That morning I was woken to the screeching of my alarm clock. I groaned and aimlessly swatted my arms around, trying to shut it down. Eventually I got it and took the batteries out. I had two hours to get to school. That was a strange fact about me. I have to be up early for school or I simply won't go. Down the hall I could hear my mother's quiet snores. It made me happy that she was finally peaceful. She had cried herself to sleep last night after an argument with dad, causing him to storm out of the house. He probably wasn't back yet. The worst thing about it was that the argument was about me.
Shaking most of the negative thoughts out of my head I quietly made my way to the bathroom. Letting the warm water run for a minute, I took of my boxers and stepped into the shower. The warm water calmed me. Unfortunately I had to make the shower quick as my hair took forever to style.
Once I had finished styling my hair I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure my appearance was "decent". Today I was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with a hole in one knee, a blink-182 shirt and a red flannel shirt. After a second glance I realized my hair still looked like crap so I quickly threw a black beanie over my head before walking downstairs.
