Music - On. World - Off.

Prologue

The Picture is of Colton Haynes he's what Sean would look like. 

I keep looking back from the window to my dad. I knew something was wrong, he hadn’t said a word since he’d talked to the doctor so it was kind of obvious the doctor had said something unsettling.

“Would you just talk to me already!” I screamed at him but he still just stared forward and said nothing, I sighed tilting my head back onto the window and stared at the trees passing by.

Another 15 minutes and we were pulling into the driveway. I looked towards the door to see Laycy standing there with a worried face holding Jenavieve, in her arms. I smiled seeing her and got out of the car my dad following.

“Sean!” Jen yelled when she say me and ran to me, I laughed and picked her up twirling her around. When I stopped and put her down she smiled back up at me. I looked over towards my dad and Laycy, he was telling her something; Low and hush like it was secret, I knew it was what the doctor had said because her face pailed and she looked towards me. I frowned and made my way towards them, Jen following right behind me.

“Will you tell me now?” I asked but they both just stayed silent and I glared at them turning back and heading toward the car.

“Sean!” My dad yelled and followed after me grabbing my arm and turning me gently.

“What?! Are you finally going to tell me now!” I grabbed his arm and turned him quickly pinning him to the car. “Uh?! What is it? Whats so bad that you couldnt just tell me when the doctor told you?! Why did she have to know first?!” He didn’t answer so I slammed my fist onto the car next to him. “What?!”

“Mommy, what’s going on?” I heard  Jen’s gentle voice and it just angered me more.

“Yeah!” I yelled turning to face Laycy. “What’s going on?! Because I don’t know about you two,” I looked between my dad and stepmother. “but I’d really like to know what the fuck is wrong with me!”

“Sean!” My father yelled making turn towards him. “Don’t use that kind so language around your sister!” I looked at him confused for a minute before realising he was serious.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! There’s actually something wrong with me, I know there is, and you’re just worried about her!” I just kept yelling, I didn’t know what was making me so angry, I mean I knew my dad prefered Jenavieve, I’ve always been a pretty shitty child and he never really liked me, let alone want me; but still, I’m his kid two, and something’s wrong, and I deserved to know what it is.

“Don’t talk that way Sean.” I groaned and slammed my fost againt the car once again.

“Carl, maybe you should tell him. He should know.” Laycy said looking at my father.

“He’s too young to deal with this the right way! I am not telling him!” He screamed back at her.

“He’s fourteen! Last time I checked that wasn’t exactly young Carl! He goes out with his friends without supervision he pays for things by himself sometimes. He’s becoming an adult and you can’t stop him from doing that. So just tell him.” He turned and glared at her but she was already glaring at him.

“What’s wrong with me?!” They all just started at me and I felt a single tear run down my face, this was bad I knew it was. “I just want to know.” I muttered falling against the car and sinking to the ground, and then finally Laycy said it, and everything became much more real but at the same time the world around me faded. I could hear my dad screaming at Laycy but I couldn’t make out the words. I’m not really sure what happen the rest of that day. I just remember walking up the next morning.

 

That all happened about 4 years ago; I lost my temper, Went nuts under the pressure, Cracked. Call it whatever you want, it’s not going to change anything. I was normally such a calm person; the kid that always followed the rules, always listened. But I think it was because I knew something was wrong and when all I wanted was an answer it’s exactly what I didn’t get which led to my... outburst. And after that they kept coming, started being about smaller things and becoming more violent, it scared them, what I did to the car,  what I almost did to my dad, and everything after that; it all scared them. So I was sent here which I bet it was a blessing for my dad, it’s not like he ever wanted me. Now I’m almost eighteen, but it’s nothing special really, just another kid in an orphanage. I know it means that I’m going to be released soon, but I don’t think I’m going to make it till then, my sickness is becoming worst; more than I care to show it.

I don't talk anymore; I haven’t since the outburst. Since finding out I was sick. It’s no difference though, everything they say here is either for competition or reputation. That wasn't hard to figure that out really, the first thing all the other kids asked for was my story. I didn't tell it though, I started at them with a blank face then put on my headphones and drowned out the new world surrounding me. After being like this for a couple months I wasn’t about to change; especially for kids that just wanted to make sure they had a more depressing story than me.

Upon arrival I was shown to my room, shown which bed I'd be using, shown the bathroom and the lunch room and then left to myself. I'd decided to go back to the room and listened to music. Laying down on my back and closing my eyes. Now that I think about it, while doing it, it probably looked like I'd been asleep, but I didn't sleep; not while listening to music anyway. Never while listening to music. Music was the escape, it let you forget the situation and how shitty it is and just lets you be. And throughout the first 6 months I found myself spending my time here doing the exact same routine. Then they forced me to do something different; they said if I didn't want to talk, maybe I could write. Write anything I'd want and just for myself, I guess if I look at the advice now they were telling me to write a journal, but that's not what I did... I mean yeah you could call it a journal if you wanted, but I just wore down a different word everyday and then it’s meaning, and then how I felt about the word, was it useless or stupid. Sometimes I’d write a paragraph about my day and I would use the word in it. And so, soon after that became my new routine, and I guess they thought it was somewhat productive enough and they got off my case.

And now here I am, with the same old routine and the same old bed, in the same old room. Nothing else had changed after the journal, well nothing except for my roommate. The one right now was the longest I'd had since coming here. He'd been here for 6 months. He was the seventh roommate I got in the span of almost 2 years. The first, lasted 2 months, though I don't know how long he'd been here before me. The second, 4 months. The third, 5 months. The fourth, 1 month. The fifth, 3 and so was the sixth. And then him, the seventh roommate, 6 months. He was different from all the others though. He didn't ask questions; didn't bother me; didn't care at all actually.

This is me now, the new Sean. My last name? It's not important since my family doesn't want me. But what's happen before I got here is another story, this isn't about my past, because I already know about it, this I about my future, because I might be a little bit more curious about it then I lead on.