Hey guys, this is my first fanfiction ever so hopefully someone will read it and like it. So yeah, enjoy :) also I'm sorry but I'm not American therefore I don't know what it's like at American schools. And basically, this story is just one huge cliché so be prepared for that :)
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*Kellin's POV*
I woke up on a saturday morning in our new house in San Diego. Me and my mom moved here two days ago, hoping that the shit I've gone through would be over.
Well, I'm certainly hoping so, at least.
Since we moved in, I spent most of the time lying on my bed and listening to music, like I always did back in Michigan, or unpacking the boxes with all my stuff.
The reason why we've moved to San Diego is mostly my father's death. We weren't really close, but his death truly hurt me and I didn't take it easily. I soon began having these thoughts that slowly turned into depression and I started to self-harm. And the fact that I was gay and got bullied didn't help much. I can't really help it, I just feel so worthless all the time.
Sometimes I even think that my dad's death was my fault even though that's a complete bullshit. I didn't fucking give him the lung cancer...
I guess that in the end I'm just another fucked up kid.
*****
I checked the time on my phone. 8:17 p.m.
All I've done today was unpack the rest of the boxes with my CDs and hang all of my band posters on the walls. What an interesting life I'm living, right?
"Kellin, honey, dinner is ready." I heard my mom yell at me from kitchen.
"Coming." I shouted back.
I put the last three CDs on my shelf and went downstairs. We sat down at the table and had a little talk. Mostly it was just my mom asking me if I unpacked my stuff or if I'm excited to accede my new school. I sure as hell wasn't excited at
all. Maybe scared, terrified...yeah probably terrified, but not excited.
After our dinner I went back to my room, grabbed a towel and went to bathroom. I turned on the shower and stepped in. When I was all clean, I got out of the shower, tied the towel around my waist and headed to my room. I was about to go to sleep when something caught my eye.
I was staring at my reflection in mirror and began to think. How could anyone ever like me? I was way too skinny and pale, scars all over my hips and wrists. I looked like death.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek at the thought of never having anyone to love me and quickly ran to one of my drawers, searching for a pack of razors. When I found it I sat on the floor in the corner of my room and looked at my silver friend in my hand. The tears were flooding down as I made a slash on my left wrist and watched the small drops of blood appearing.
As I continued on cutting my skin open, more and more blood poured down my wrist. With the eleventh cut I stopped and took a look at my work. My arm was all covered in blood so I wiped it off with a napkin. I bandaged the wounds, took the razor and put it back to the drawer. Then I took my iPod, hopped on my bed, muffled under the sheets and started listening to music.
You know, maybe those fucking pricks in my old school were right, I am, in fact, just an emo fag who doesn't deserve to live.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
*****
The next morning I woke up with a terrible headache from the crying. I unbandaged my wrist just to see if it stopped bleeding. Thankfully, it did. I immediately felt so freaking pathetic for doing this to myself.
I shook the thought out of my head and headed downstairs. My mom was still sleeping probably. I walked into the kitchen, wearing nothing but my boxers, and started looking for coffee but all I found was pack of tea.
"Great, what now?" I asked myself quietly as if someone could hear me. And then an idea popped into my head. I could get coffee at the coffee shop I saw when we arrived in here, it's like a 5 minutes walk. I quickly ran upstairs and put on clean underwear, black skinny jeans, a Taking Back Sunday t-shirt and a black hoodie. I then grabbed my phone, keys and money, but something was still missing...what am I-...right, my shoes, I put on my black toms and after that I left my house.
*****
*Vic's POV*
I walked into my favorite coffee shop. Actually, it was my second favorite place ever, right after my room. I leaned against the counter and waited for the girl, who's name was Tay according to the tag on her shirt, to come and take my order. She greeted me and asked me what I wanted to order.
"I'd like a caramel latte, please" I said along with a guy who was standing at the counter next to me.
I turned my head to see who it was and he did the same. I don't think I've seen him around here. He had black hair, the prettiest blue-green eyes, and a Taking Back Sunday t-shirt, (cool, one of my favorite bands).
He looked a little bit younger than me and I have to admit, he was kinda cute. I realised that I was staring at him a little too long so I just smiled and with that, he looked away, took his coffee and without shooting me as much as a gaze, he left.
Weird.
I shrugged it off, grabbing my coffee as well and sat on a chair at the closest table. I spent about an hour there before I headed back home.
*****
