Heal Me

Chapter 1

Phoenix's POV:

I walked into the school trying not to breathe to much. Pretty sure at least two of my ribs were broken from yesterday's beating.
I kept my head down and I walked fast trying to get to my locker without getting noticed by Dylan and his lackeys.

I was about a foot away from my locker when I was shoved down, face first to the floor.

Guess I was too late because all my books and went crashing down to the floor. I sighed as I picked up my books, the laughter I heard just background noise. That was until the kick straight to my chest snapped me back to reality. My eyes went wide as saucers as I fell on to my back trying to control my breathing. I looked up to see the one and Dylan Stone, smirking down at me with an evil glint in his eyes, like always.

As the wind was knocked out of me I looked around me to see a circle had formed with people laughing,taking pictures,enjoying my misery. Just as my vision focused back on my tormentors, I saw a foot flying at my face giving me no time to defend myself . The impact instantly made my nose bleed. Giving me no time to catch my breath the beating just kept coming, a few words jamming their way into my ringing ears.

Why don't you just go kill yourself!

Mute!

No one wants you on this earth anyway!

Faggot!

Just a waste of our air and space!

Freak!

I bet that's why your mom killed herself

Go die!

She couldn't stand you enough to live!

HA! And I guess your sister takes after your mom right,

She followed her right in her footsteps.

And it's all your fault.

It's not like I haven't heard these before, but the ones that stuck with me, were the one said about my sister and my Mom. The one who said them of course was none other than Dylan himself. He's the only one, besides a few others , who knew what really happen to my Mom and sister. Every time the beatings happened, he would get really close and whisper those things in my ears. I never cried in front of him though.

    That was always after. Crying only made it worse and gave them satisfaction. Same goes for my brother and my father. Never cry. Ever. It's for the weak. That was my mantra I tell my self every time it happens. Don't cry, it'll be over soon, it will get better just hold on a little longer. But I've been telling myself that since I was 11, I'm 18 now and the abuse has been going on long over since I was 11.
    I don't even know why I have hope sometimes . I just get disappointed and let down each time. I've contemplated suicide many times, but I never go through with it. I thought if I failed I wouldn't be able to handle the guilt that it would come with. So I won't do it. I don't know why, but even though this has been going on longer than I can take, I still have hope. I don't want to give in to my thoughts and let my Mom and sister down.
     I was brought back to reality by the principal bellowing down the hallways asking what was going on. His deep voice echoed throughout the hallways, "What's going on here why are you all out class!" He shouted. In that second all the students scattered and that left me and Dylan alone, who was still holding my collar with his fist in the air, aimed at my face. All the concealer,that I had on to hide my other bruises, had been wiped off so I'm guessing that the damage looked worse than it actually was.