Hellish Words

The only way I know how

A/N: I changed the tense of the story sorry if you liked the previous one better.

Maybe if I was smarter then I wouldn't have to wonder why it was happening. Maybe if my mother never left things would have been easier on us. Maybe.... But there is no maybe. Everything is the way it is for a reason. Or life is just so fucked up for no reason. I know I sound like a crybaby right now, but it must be true.

Maybe...

Maybe isn't good enough. At least that's what I think. In all truth the only way I'll get out of this hell is through a maybe. Because in all honesty what use is there for hope? I have been hoping my father would stop hitting me since he began, yet still he continues. That is how I know that you cannot trust hope.

I know this, yet I cling to the idea of it. I know there is no one to save me. No one like that exists in the world around me. In this small town where everyone knows where you are no one knows what's happening around them. It really is such a foolish dream. Despite this I desperately cling onto the thought that anyone will come. Isn't that funny? I would laugh at myself if I remembered how to. If my face didnt hurt so bad from getting decked. If I had even an ounce of happiness left in my body

X

I was hurting. And going to school did not make anything better. Walking home sometimes worked because it was at this time where I would tune out the world around me. This time though nothing would help. All I can think about is how pathetic I must look sitting on my bed staring at the bruises that littered my body. There were many of them. How has nobody noticed? Surely someone has seen the dark bruises that paint my pale skin almost everywhere.

The day started off as normal, or whatever is normal for me. I woke up at 5:30 so I could have enough time to get ready for school and make breakfast all while being silent enough to not wake up my father. He and I did not have matching schedules, him waking up hours after I go to school. If I were to disturb him this early he would surely rage down on me with harsh words and even harsher fists.

Slowly climbing out of bed I made my way to the shower of my conjoined bathroom. Turning the water scolding hot I thoroughly washed, trying to be careful of my injuries. Every second in here I feel like I'm escaping. The stuff that happens out there didn't make it into my steam filled bathroom. At least that's what I like to think, so that I can have a break from the screaming of the real world.

Not bothering to dry off I quickly dressed, not even caring to look at what I was wearing. After brushing my teeth and nearly running down stairs I started breakfast. There was only an hour left, and he would be up soon. I wanted to avoid seeing him at all cost so I popped toast in the toaster and ate them in record time.

I finished making breakfast and left without eating anything else. Food doesn't exactly please me anymore. The idea of sitting down and eating with him would make anyone loose there appetite. Quietly leaving my house I walked the quarter mile to the bus stop then waited the 45 minutes it took for the bus to arrive at my destination. School, more commonly known as hell.

X

High school is not the worst thing in the world, at least comparatively to what I've been through. It's a place where your judged by what you do and who you hang out with. If you have a few bruises some weeks instead of asking questions people are going to start ignoring you. When that happens you'll be labeled as an outsider or a push over. All that plus being gay and well you have my life. Classes were hell, passing periods were hell, lunch was hell, home was hell, everywhere was hell for me. Walking to home room was almost the highlight of my day.

As I walked I could feel the stares and hear the comments about the way I looked and dressed. Thinking about it if that was the best they could find to talk about, then they were pretty blind. I should have laughed and told them off. I didn't. That is as much social suicide I might as well have asked Spencer the quarter back of the football team out on a date. I mean seriously.

Homeroom, what a dreadful place. It's where about 3/4 of the jock population is there. A really dreadful thing for the likes of people like me

Walking to my seat was almost the same as walking down the hallways. Except the stares were intensified times 10. I give it that the thought that they have to sit with me in a class for 45 minutes is to hard to bare. Ms.Evans the so called teacher pretended not to notice and went on ahead popping her gum and inspecting her obnoxiously pink fingernails. Sitting in the back had its privileges. Like a) being able to not listen in class, and b) it being absolutely impossible to get stared at back here.

Doodling on my page I looked up to see that everyone was moving around pairing off. The realization of what was going on hit me harder than one of my dad's punches (and that was saying alot). The class project. The annual class project. The one where I usually got paired off with some jock who made me do all the work or eles.

Looking around I saw that there was an odd number of people in class this year. Thank god! Maybe thid time I could just work silently on my own. A relieved sigh left me, but looking around I noticed I spoke too soon. There was someone absent. How could I be so stupid? Spencer was suspended until tomorrow for beating up some freshman. 'Oh god oh god.' I could handle one of Spencer's lackeys, but Spencer? In actual real life, I might as well beat myself up now before he has the pleasure to do so. I didn't even know what the project was about, and I sure as hell couldn't ask Ms.Fingernails to re-explain it. She'd just cackle and tell me to ask my partner who I shall remind you was not here during the process of explanation. Oh god I'm screwed.
Leaving myself to fate I let the class and the rest of the school day pass in a blur. The only highlight of my day was picking up a project syllabus so I could actually know what the stupid ass project was about.

X

Walking home I didn't think about Spencer's gang. If he wasn't here they wouldn't have to heckle me on my way home. Once again I was mistaken. How many times can this really happen ? I really am stupid. Halfway home I heard them coming before I saw them. Their radio was blasting and they were hooping and hollering all the way down the street.

I didn't register what was happening until way to late. The car pulled up beside me, and about 4 guys rolled down their windows, all if them looking at me with intense hatred. " Hey faggot!" one of them yelled " I hear you're partnered up with our pal Spencer?" Gus' loud voice inquired questioningly. Slowly I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. " He sure is going to be mad when he finds out." Joked another making them all laugh loudly " Man I'd hate to be you" the someone else yelled. I vaguely recalled his name was Theodore. " So listen since Spenc isn't here we are going to give you his warning," I shook my head vigorously suddenly really scared. He stepped out of the car and made a beeline toward my motionless body and leaned down into my face. His hand gripped my jacket and his hot breath fanned out against my face. He continued with his warning. "You screw this up and we screw you up got it?" I nodded once more. He smiled cruely and said "Good.", before pushing me to the ground and getting back in his car to drive off. I brushed off my clothes and sighed while standing up. This was going to be a long week.

A:N/ Well there it is after such a long wait I have chapter 2. I have toned down on the seriousness and the vagueness of the story, as some people have requested. Welp I guess this'll do. Tell me what you think and be totally honest I can handle it.