If It Never Happened ⚣

Chapter 19- October 24th 2016

True P.O.V

Let's just say, I had a rough night.

When I woke up, my back was very sore and my cuts on my stomach aching. Chris decided when I got home that I deserved to be punished correctly for yesterday, for the Bryan thing. He also told me that I'm no longer allowed pick my brother up anymore.

I know Bryan won't be happy about that but I wasn't going to back-talk Chris anytime soon, especially about picking Bryan up from something as simple as school. It just wasn't happening.

I pulled myself away from my rock-hard bed, the small thing it was, I had owned it since I was eight, so it was practically ancient. It also hurt my back, so there's that too.

I saw my shelf, which was above my door, which my siblings didn't know about, thank god. It held something very valuable to me, but worthless to my family . . . or anyone else at that matter. It held my childhood. Literally. It held everything I managed to keep from my youth.

My first photo, something I saved from a fire, surprisingly the burning of it was going to be an accident, I actually caught my mom crying about it being burned, she probably thought it was of Chris.

My first stuffed animal, something that was going to be sold, instead of, like other families, handed down to a younger offspring.

My first gun. I'm not even going to go into this one...

My first paycheck, with has never been banked.

My first report card.

My test A+ grade on a test.

My first poem, something compared to my today work, was actually quite pitiful.

My first book ever owned.

My last family photo, with all my siblings and parents. It was taken when I was 10, five years ago. Wow, I know, not really surprised either. Let my tell you, my father's smile was very fake. At the very young age of 10, he already considered me a failure and moved on to the next child, who at this case, had been Micheal.

I think they simply stopped caring. They stopped showing any good attention and started giving bad attention. I think they thrust there bad emotion's at me and expect me to take it.

I've taken it for this long. What's a little longer?

I keep a photo album of me, my friends, and even my family. Though they don't know about it, they don't think I care when I really do. They just never spare me much more than a passing glance with love. But they give me long glares of hate. It really is messed up how much they can hate one of there children and love the others.

I smile at the thought of that book. It truly filled me with warmth. Though those pictures held lies, they were pretty lies. Lies I wish were true.

That smile faded really quickly at the sound of my father's office, a room that was exactly below mine, slam open. My father's bellowing voice reached my ears.

"Chris!! Get down here now!" My father yelled. It was strange since I was used to being the one yelled at to come downstairs.

I took this moment to get ready for today, which was Monday. The highest suicide rate day, a day that make's almost everyone hates life a little bit more than usual. For some its a bridge for four more days of school, for me, it's four more days of hell. My bullies hate Monday's, which makes my life harder than usual.

I heard Chris's door pop open and the sound of my brother's feet against the hardwood of the floor outside my room and towards the stairs.

I bet they were going to talk about something to do with dad's 'job'. Something my brother would talk over, being the oldest. Mom and dad don't think I know about dad's job, none of my younger sibling's do.