Chapter One
I sat uncomfortably on the off white three-seater couch in the school counselling office. I twisted the black and red checkerboard wristband, around my deeply scarred arm. My medium length black hair fell down in front of my Jade green eyes, as I dropped my head down avoiding the stares of other students.
I tugged on the black skinny jeans that covered my legs. The tight screamo band t-shirt that I was wearing seemed tighter than normal.
"Aadin, we are ready for you"
Standing up, I began playing with my snake bites, using my tongue. I looked up at my counsellor, and then flipped my hair slightly, as to cover my right eye. I stepped into the small office, and then stopped when I saw my mother, and father.
"Oh no. I will not put up with this."
I turned to walk back out, but my counsellor was standing there, her back against the closed door.
"Sit down Aadin."
I sighed, and then allowed myself to collapse into the large computer chair.
"Aadin, we want to know what's going on."
"No. You don't know what's going on." I growled, glaring at my father.
"Aadin, you need to talk about this with us."
"TALK ABOUT WHAT?!" I raised my voice, causing my mother to have to blink back tears.
My father without warning stood up, and threw his hand out, which made quick contact with the side of my face. Pain seared across my face, and tears stung my eyes. My mother quickly stood, and pulled my father away from me. My counsellor stood in shock at what had just happened, and then opened the door. I stood, and ran from the room; I continued to run as I exited into the hallway of the school. I kept going, and swung myself into the boys bathroom that was the first I saw.
I pushed into the stall furthest from the door, and locked the door before pressing my back against it. I slid to the floor, and held my head with my hands, as tears streamed down my face. I was gonna be put into foster care again, and I was always stuck in a place with more than one child.
I carefully pulled the large, bulky headphones that hung around my neck, and placed them comfortably my head. I turned my music on before, pulling out a small pocket knife from my back pocket. I pulled out the blade that was covered in dried up blood from previous uses on my arms. I held up my left arm, and pressed the cold blade to my arm.
I placed more pressure onto my arm with the blade just enough to begin to draw blood. The deep red liquid pooled out, and surrounded the tip of the blade. I stared at the tiny pool of blood before I began carving into my arm. The pain felt good it calmed me, it relaxed me even though blood came dripping out onto my jeans.
Tears fell from my chin, and cheeks; the tears quickly joined with the drops of blood. Slowly my vision began to fade, and I passed out.
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I woke to find myself in the school's medical room. I sat up slowly, and noticed my left arm was wrapped up. I checked my pockets, looking for my pocket knife.
'Dammit, they confiscated it...' I thought, as I stood.
I looked around the place, and then stepped out of the room, into the main office. The secretary nodded at me, and then told me I could leave. I exited the office, and as I did two of the biggest jocks in the school passed by.
"Faggot." They said at the same time as they saw me.
I merely gave them the finger, and walked away. I was done for the day, I had to go home, collapse on my bed and rest. I left the school, and walked all the way home slowly, listening to my music even though it increased my headache.
I entered the house quietly, and walked all the way down to the basement where my bedroom was located. I had shut the door behind me, and was now lying on my bed. It was quiet as I stared up at the ceiling, my headphones laid on my desk across the room where I put them.
I almost screamed as a large, heavy German Shepard, jumped onto my bed.
"Jeezuz Riley...." I petted his head, and then sat up, as my mother came down the stairs.
"Aadin... About earlier..."
"It's not your fault mom... it's that dick of a father."
My mother half smiled as I said that. It was easy to make my mother happy, or proud. I couldn't be happy on the other hand. I had gone through to much in my life to even make me happy. How many times had I thought about lying dead in a coffin six-feet beneath the ground. Clearly one to many considering the numerous scars on my arms.
Parents always wanted best for their kids, yet if I was to say to my Father "hey dad, I'm gay, and dating men makes me happy." well then I would for sure be shoved into a drain pipe head first. My Father thought it was bad enough that I was a good for nothing kid.
I hugged Riley as I watched my mother walk back up the stairs to cook dinner.
"You understand me don't you bud?" I asked Riley, as I shook his head by his ears.
Riley pushed up against me his tongue lolling out, as he began panting in a luaghing manner. I looked down at him, before getting up to go help my mother cook dinner. Twisting my wristband around my arm, I walked up the stairs, ignoring the fact that I could hear my father watching his football with his friends.
"Hey Mom, I'm going to help you with dinner."
She turned to me and nodded.
