In His Eyes

Bad dream.

Mitch:
As soon as I walk in the door my mom pounces on me, asking thousands of questions about my day.

"How did it go? Do you have any new friends? Did you find your class easy? Where there any cute boys? Mitch! Are you listening?" I only manage to absorb a few of her questions.

"It went fine mom. I have loads of new friends, so popular. My classes where easy to find and I concentrated well and yes there are loads of cute boys mom. I even got a few phone numbers." I lie before running up to my room and shutting the door then sliding down my wall, head in hands. I let out a sob and then more follow as I pull my hair hard.

Half an hour later my vision clear and slowly my sobbing stifles and I pull my hands away from my hair. What time is it? 5:00 pm. I need to do my homework. Slowly I get up on wobbly legs and pull out my folder. Swiftly doing my math and English homework then throwing the folder on the floor and scrolling through tumblr for a while. Hm, getting kind of... tired.

I wake sitting in a strange room, my vision clears and I realise it's my old living room. What the hell am I doing here?
"Mitchell Grassi get your ass off that couch and in the kitchen now!" A familiar voice yells, who is that? Without thinking i jump up from the brown leather couch I sit on and travel to where the voice seemed to come from, as I enter the room I realise the voice came from a short bald man. My father.

"Oh nice of you to show up you useless son of a bitch. Get over here." He commands. Why is my dad here? Shakily I walk over to the older man, not making eye contact. "What's this mess then fag?" I look behind to here he is gesturing and see a plate with Mac and cheese residue sitting in the sink. I look up at him and shrug my shoulders. Suddenly his palm hits my skin causing my head to swing violently to the left, pain causing through my body and a sting on my cheek.

"I asked you a question fag. Now clean that mess up you fucking waste of space Poof." My dad screams at me before walking past, making sure to knock into me so hard I fall as he leaves.

My eyes shoot open and I sit up with a start. Breathing heavily I think to myself. Just a dream mitchie. Just a dream. Don't worry. He's never coming back. But my mind doesn't rest. Slowly my strange eyes drift to the small hole in the wall where I keep my lighter, no I can't, I promised I'd never touch it again. Fuck that promise. Scott promised never to leave me but where is he now? Father promised he would get better. He never did so why should I keep my promise when everyone else breaks theirs. Quickly I slip of my black and white bed and stick my fingers into the hole, I pull them out and clasp a box of cigarettes and my strawberry lighter. I open up my windows and climb onto the roof before lighting up a cigarette. I've tried smoking before but it always makes me cough so bad I can't breathe so I've never actually finished one. Plus it's bad for my lungs. So instead of bringing the lit cigarette to my lips I place it down on the tiles and slip out of my jeans, leaving me in just boxer brief and a shirt then I pick the Fag back up and thrust it onto my thigh hard so that the lit end makes my skin sizzle. Wincing in pain I watch as the roll makes my skin go red then take it away, re light it and do it again. I keep on burning myself with the ashes of my cigarette until the whole of my right thigh is filled with red circle burns. Then I roll the sleeve of my shirt up and admire the scars from last time, taking my lighter I flip the cap and make a flame appear. Then turn my arm over so the back of my hand is facing the sky and run the lighter underneath causing pain to rush through my arm and make me bite my lip. I keep the lighter there until I hear the familiar sizzle and pull away. Examining and burn and doing it again next to the already made one. I can't stop. One for being useless. Another for being a fag. A third for having these stupid eyes. Another for Matt sallee. Another for my father. A sixth one for the traitor Scott. One so that my mom can live her life without me. Another for the brother I killed in the womb. Stop that's enough now Mitch. Ok. I put the lighter down next to me and run my fingers over the blistering burns on my left arm. So many.

"Mitch dinner!" My mom yells faintly. Hurriedly I grab the box and my lighter and slide down the roof and into my window. Pulling on some sweat pants and an oversized hoodie, wincing in pain and the fabric sticks to my arm. Then I stuff my stash back into the hole and go down stairs. Mom is waiting at the table with Amelia-Jane my little 3 year old sister. Mac and cheese sitting on the table In front of them, suddenly I'm not hungry but I sit down anyway. Commence the spearheaded trick. I open my mouth and start a conversation, talking fast whilst cutting my food, bring it to my mouth and asking another question and placing the fork back down. My hands move as quick as my lips and soon my plate looks basically empty even though I haven't eaten anything.

"Thanks mom, that was great." I say as I take my plate out and scrape the waste off into the bin and place the porcelain into the dish washer. Then I run upstairs and grab my tank and tubes, looping the tubes around my ears and under my nose I unscrew the tank and soon my breathing becomes easier.

"You doing your breathing mitchie?" Mom asks standing in my doorway suddenly.

"Yes mom. Have you spoken to the hospital yet about me going back? My breathing got really bad recently." I reply, mom walks in and sits next to me placing a hand on my back and rubbing gentle circles.

"They want you back in two weeks for a check up so until then keep doing your breathing exercises and I'll keep my phone on when your at school in case you need me sweetie." Mom says smiling sweetly. I just nod and turn my phone on looking through notifications. "Well you should get an early night tonight so you're all refreshed for school tomorrow okay sweetheart." I nod and mom leaves to put Amelia-Jane to bed. I lay back and close my eyes breathing deeply.