Journal (Boyxboy)

Untitled Part 4

Halfway through the walk I got scared. I wasn't really into darkness or the fact I was near the woods the whole walk home. Add creepy laughing and coughing from people nearby and you have a freaked out Brian.

A rustling in the trees near me made me gasp and freeze in shock. In a second flat I dashed as quick as I could, pushing myself to run home. It was like my life flashed before my eyes, a person that I used to be. I was happy and playing with my siblings, laughing with my youngest sister and then her dying in my arms, my brother going off to war and turning up MIA, my parents disowning their gay kid and me committing suicide. To now, this skinny, anorexic, depressed kid running for his life from a sound.

Steps sounded from behind me and I didn't look back. I knew what would happen if I did and I couldn't. The fire in my lungs increased, and I had only been running for like 15 seconds. That burn of needed more oxygen and unable to breathe was getting to me.

I heard them gaining but I couldn't run any faster, the body I had now couldn't put in that force I used to have. A hand pulled me roughly and I was forced to stop, the arm wrapped around my arms and chest, I couldn't move. My life flashed again before my eyes, someone who couldn't be stopped, so strong and healthy and now this skinny, weak kid who couldn't even fight. My voice was gone, gone with my breath that I couldn't catch.

The person held me against their chest and a knife flashed before my eyes. He held it to my neck, "You picked the wrong night to walk at night. Stupid fag! Now you're going to die. Any last words?"

My throat squeezed tighter in fear and I couldn't breathe, I could only shake my head rapidly, in hope somehow they wouldn't do it. Another part of me was cheering him on; this guy was doing what I couldn't. But I thought of Ryan and I didn't want to die. The fear of death was so strong and I started crying, the boy I had crushed on had finally talked to me and... I didn't want to die.

"Alright, nighty night." He snarled and the knife ripped across the whole front of my neck. I stopped struggling, in shock of what has happened. My throat was cut and bleeding, out of me and pouring into my air pipe. Breathing in made blood flow into my lungs, I gasped for breath as I was thrown to the ground.

My adrenaline was still high and I found a way to get to my feet and jump the guy. I ripped the knife from his hand and stabbed him in the stomach as he struggled. A blow from his elbow to my face made me fall. He didn't look back, he just ran off with the knife in his side.

I gasped for breath, blood was quickly filling my lungs and I couldn't cough it up. My limbs felt weak and I could feel my vision going in and out. With the last of my strength I pulled out my phone and called Abby. I hoped with all my might that she would worry and try to find me. That she would know something was wrong and get help.

For once in these long, miserable years, I didn't want to die. Ryan flashed into my head again and I closed my eyes, a tear slipped down my face. I thought of my little sister as I fell into a world of darkness and numbness.

My sister, the youngest, was this really bubbly and curious child. She didn't get upset unless you were upset. I remember when the oldest, my brother, was crying because his fiancé and girlfriend of 3 years had dumped him. My sister, Ciara, had gone right up to him and begged him to stop.

Mark couldn't of course, he had loved this girl for a long time and she just left. So she begged and begged but he couldn't stop and she started crying with him. It was so sad but sweet, she kept telling him it would be okay, everything would be okay. She was only 5 that day.

It was a day after her 7th birthday that she died.

My fault. All my fault.

It had been my job to look after her.