Average Teen: 21

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Christopher's Pov.

My father always told me that happiness was a choice, a choice that we made daily. He would tell me whenever I cried myself to sleep, that it was my choice to let them effect me that I chose to be sad. Sure back then I believed him and would always try ignoring the hurtful comments, try drift passed those legs that meant to trip me but everyday it got harder, and everyday they'd find new ways to make my life a living nightmare. And after a while I stopped believing in creating my own happiness and fell into depression. My father continued to tell me I could stop it, that it was my fault I was depressed. And just as before I believed him, I began to close myself off from the world, believing I was dangerous to those around me and that's when the voices started. They weren't too bad when they started leading me to pay little attention to them and remain distant, remain isolated, silent. But after a year of isolation, I lost my grip on reality, everything became too much to handle. Both the voice of my father and the voices in my head, screaming constantly for attention, to be recognised, until finally one day I gave into them, I lost my battles and succumbed to the prices of such. The voices soon became friends, the only I ever had and the only people I could trust. Then not even months into it, they began to offer soft whispers of death, both others and my own. They offered me with thoughts that ruined my sanity –well what was left of it.

And that's where it all started, months passed and I found myself right where they wanted me, I found myself in juvenile prison. I was only fifteen at that point in time, so far beyond repair that even my father stopped telling me, reminding of how weak and useless I was, how easily I crumbled under pressure. A year after my arrest I was realised and came out, still burdened with the voices in my head. It was in the year after I was released that I picked up the pieces, as isolated as they were and as microscopic, I found them one by one and tried to rebuild myself...

But that was two years and five months ago. Things had changed vastly since then, I was in a bad place in my life back then but I changed, I made friends, ignored the voices and soon they just disappeared. My father died a year back and my mother remarried a year after to some rich guy who lived somewhere in California. Not that I'd know, the second I met him he shipped me off here, to some prestigious school in the woods, as far away from him and my mother as possible.

"Wow," I heard a gasp from behind me. I had been so trapped in my thoughts that my surroundings became intangible for a moment. I looked to my canvas and found it to be cascaded in stars, which formed a girl twirling from Milky Way to Milky Way. A boy that also took the form of stars sat on Neptune watching her mindfully.

"It's beautiful, Chris," I heard Taylor admire. I turned to her and gave a sheepish grin; I had never received compliments for my artwork. Considering I didn't share it with other people as well as the fact that my mother never found it as amusing as I did or my father for that matter. I never took art classes either, knowing that the team back home would only tease me for it, the only reason I ended up here is because apparently my mother suggested it to what's-his-face in California. Shaking off the thoughts I turned to Taylor's art and found a comic of a boy and girl that seemed to be falling in love. In the first block they met passing in parking (which imitated the parking at the school quiet well), then in the second to fourth blocks they hangout in different circumstances, until a few block down the line they got married and eventually had kids. In the last one kids ran around the girl and she sighed in defeat, as the boy hugged her around her waist, trying to soothe her rising temper.

I tilted by head at her nearly complete canvas and raised an eyebrow.

"Rather detailed don't you think?"I asked looking at the canvas my expression perplexed.