Scars (JohnDave/DaveJohn)

Freak

Dave Strider. That's your name. And pickin' up hot babes is your game. Except it's not because you hate boobs. You're more of a, what they call a homosexual. But you'd never tell a single soul that because here in Texas, most people aren't all that accepting. Your online friends are though!

But they're still online and you're still here. Except that one time when you weren't here that one summer because you decided to run away to John's house. except you didn't even make it passed Oklahoma.

Why John's though? Well for one, it was the closest state to you, besides Jade, but she's a little queen ruling her own god damn island. But no, you ran to John's because you've developed the slightest bit of feelings for him.

He doesn't know though, and you plan to keep it that way. Being that if you ever got up the courage to tell him, you wouldn't want to anyways, fearing it may damage the great friendship you have now.

However, let's clear some shit up for whoever decides to read this story of my life. The reason why you ran away that one time that is.

It all started with this cheesy intro as I begin to spill the beans about what happened to me when I was little.

Your so called brother, even from a young age, decided to put you through what he liked to call "training." You always hated it and begged him each time to let you continue watching your telly-tubbies instead, but he just wouldn't budge.

Bro's training sessions consisted of extremely difficult running exercises, boxing lessons, and other things. Which, this shit may have helped you in the long run, but it sure as hell hurt like a bitch. It still does too.

He thought it was okay to just, use me as target practice with his dumb sword. Sometimes he would make it seem less harmless by making it seem like his dumb puppet was doing the dirty work. But you could always tell it was really him controlling the damn thing in the first place.

You take a second to take a deep breath. All this thinking back is really making you nauseous.

"It's better to let it out than to keep it trapped inside.." You repeat to yourself a few times over.

John told you that once. Through pesterchum. The one night you were really beat up and really hurting and wanted to tell John all that had happened, hoping you would be able to get help or something, but...

You just couldn't tell him.

You're supposed to be the tough one. If he saw you were upset, he'd think you were weak. But you aren't. You earned these scars fair and square.

Your fingertips gently graze the area near your eye. Your first scar. It's all out in the open.. Or it would be if you didn't have your shades. That's part of the reason why you have them.

Besides the fact that you have bright red eyes. Oh yeah, forgot to mention. You're a freak. Well, you're an albino.

It means that you've got white ass hair and bright red eyes. So you basically look like an old man on crack.