The Little Things

Like Everyone Else

TRIGGER WARNING: MILD SUICIDE INTENTIONS

“Get lost you freak!” a girl yelled, throwing a rock to my back.

“Stop wearing those tacky sweaters,” a boy scoffed as he punched me.

I fell hard and hit the pavement. He kicked me against my stomach. I close my eyes and wait for the blows to stop.

I’ve learnt not to cry for help. It just makes thing worse. I just close my eyes and wait for the pain to cease, and for my tears to stop flowing.

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes of physical suffering.

More bruises added to my collection.

As their footsteps recede, I cautiously stand up, careful not to draw any attention or further hurt myself. With all this constant bullying, you would think I would have gotten used to it.

Nobody ever does.

I limped the rest of my way home, careful not to further damage any possibly broken ribs. I don’t look forward to returning home, but where else could I go?

The five minutes home felt like an eternity.

I feared what excuse my mother would use to make the rest of my day a living hell.

I feared my father’s snide remarks on how should have just blended in.

I feared what potentially nightmare inducing prank my brother had planned for me when I opened the medicine cabinet for ointment and bandages.

I opened the door and quietly walked in. I immediately headed for the stairs. I wasn’t in the mood for their ranting. I quickened my pace as I approached my room. My hand fumbled on the doorknob and I threw the door open.

I tossed my backpack onto the foot of the bed and pulled out my laptop from under the depths of my pillow. I switched it on, muttering a silent prayer for her to be online already. I immediately logged on and searched for her contact name.

As soon as I found it, I sent her a quick message.

“are u free now?”

I tapped my finger eagerly on my keyboard, steadily spamming the Q key. As she typed oout her reply, I quickly deleted the long string of Q’s.

“sorry, dude. I gotta finish up my homework reaaaal quick”

“brb”

I sighed. Might as well change out of this sweater, I guess, I think to myself. I dragged my feet to the closet and pick out my favourite Greenday shirt.

I take off my current sweater, a Black Veil Brides sweater I got from her. There were cuts and bloodstains on the sweater. How am I supposed to get rid of this now?

I put on the fresh shirt, feeling automatically refreshed. I walk over to my laptop to see if there were any new messages. Disappointed with the lack of it, I walked to the bathroom to get my bandages and ointment.

I could hear loud music emanating from my brother’s room.

Probably forgot to set up a new prank again.

I grab my supplies and dash back to my room. I settled back in front of my laptop, patiently waiting for her reply. I lift my shirt slightly and start my personal treatment. I precariously wrap the bandages around waist.

As soon I ran out of bandages, my mom yelled, “Come down! Dinner’s ready!” Sighing, I drag myself down the stairs, not making it apparent that I was in pain.

We settled into our seats and I ate our meals in usual silence. My father is the first to speak up.

“Why do you even own such shirts?” he snarls. “Why don’t you behave like regular girls?Maybe if you do, you’ll finally stop wasting all my bandages.”

“He’s right, you know,” my mom blankly stated. “If you were normal, we wouldn’t have to send you for therapy and treatment.”

I resisted the urge to drown my dad in my orange and throw my food at my mom. Can they even hear what they’re saying?

“You should stop listening to that kind of music. Listen to something your schoolmates might enjoy, like One Direction or something.”

“Or you could stop reading all the time… Maybe if you looked up from your stupid ‘Harry Potter’ books, you wouldn’t be considered a nerd!”

All they ever wanted me to do as to fit in.

To blend in with the crowd and be another dull member of society.

They wanted me to be ‘normal’. The very thing I loathed.

I strived to be different. To be who I wanted to be, even if it killed me.

And somehow, my parents could not understand that simple concept.

To be true to myself.

My little brother’s annoying voice pierced through my thoughts, “And maybe if you stopped talking to your online ‘friend’, you would be more socially active!”

My blood started to boil and I clenched my hands into tight fists to keep myself from punching him.

“Your brother,” my father agreed, “is right. Internet friends aren’t real friends.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood up, my hands still in fists. Without saying a word, I stormed upstairs, ignoring the burning pain in my waist.

I run to my room and lock the door. I slid down the door, tears freely sliding down my cheek.

I wanted all this misery to end.

I spotted a sparkling blade on my desk. I stood up and snatched it. It was short, but nevertheless sharp.

I pressed the cold metal onto my wrist, closing my eyes.

I took a deep breath.

A single tear slipped and my lip trembled.

With a quick gasp of air, I threw it to the other end of the room.

No, she would be disappointed with me.

I walk over to my laptop. Pleasantly, I received a new message from her.

“ok im all done :D you wanna skype now?”

I smiled.

Whenever I felt the entire world was against me, she was there to help me up. Whenever I had a small light of happiness, she helped it grow, making sure nobody destroyed it. We might be states apart, but she was my dearest friend.

She had suffered depression before. Her parents divorced when her older sister was involved in an accident.

She was a suicide bomb as well.

She never really wanted to die, just to let the pain out.

She just got addicted.

But then was when we met.

She saved me as much as I did her. We improved each other.

We saved each other.

It would upset her if I started to do the last thing she wanted me to do.

She was my beacon of hope. We knew we would meet each other one day, hopefully. We both kept hanging on to that thin string.

I typed out with a smile.

“do you reaaaally think I would refuse?”

Okay so I had a 3 hour long writer's block and I needed to write something, so here you go. I feel like I'll regret posting this one day but eh. 

SORRY FOR ALL MY TYPOS OR CRAPPINESS ITS LIKE 11 PM HERE GAH ;A;

Ok bye lovelies (♥ω♥ ) ~♪