The Scars That Heal

Chapter One

Okay, hai. :3 Well, this is my first story on Wattpad. I don't know if it's any good, but yeah. Just a warning, there is cursing and cutting and all that stuff. So, if you don't like that sort of thing don't read it. Okay, thanks. <3

(Edit: Okay, so I started this story when I was about 14 or 15. I'm 18 now and this still isn't finished and needs to be extremely edited. Honestly, I'm not really interested on the story line anymore as I've grown up a shit ton since I first got the idea for this story but I still want to finish it. It shouldn't be too hard to edit as it's only a few chapter but it's something that I'd have to set aside a ton of time for and I work and go to school. But, I'm saying fuck it and I'm finally going to finish this shit so bear with me. Side note: I'm cringing so hard at the introduction above this edit.)

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Mason quietly ran to the bathroom. He sat on the closed toilet and took out his blade. He dragged it across his wrist, feeling the light pain. He ignored it and continued cutting until he had cuts half up his arm. He looked at his wrist as the blood slowly started to trickle down. He stayed looking at his wrist for a couple moments.

Cutting helped him forget about all the shit he was dealing with in his life. It was his only release. Most people don't understand, but he didn't care. The only thing that really mattered right now, was the blood that was dripping down his arm. He set the blade on the counter and turned on the faucet. He rinsed his arm until all the blood was gone. He put his blade back in the white paper he always kept it in and into the pocket of his Bring Me The Horizon sweatshirt. He pulled his sleeves down and quickly walked back to his room.

"Why the fuck is my life so messed up?" Mason asked into the darkness of his room. He walked over to his bed and put the blade back under his mattress. He walked over to his desk and flipped on a dim light. He pushed his left sleeve back up and examined the damage. "Not so bad." He said, they weren't as deep as usual. He lightly touched them to see if they stung. But, as always he felt nothing. He was numb. He sighed and rolled his sleeve back down. He walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection.

It was two in the morning and he had school tomorrow, not like it mattered. He looked into the mirror, at his long black hair that was not quite to his shoulders. His black hair partially covered his hazel eyes and he had snake bites under his full lips. I guess you would call him your typical "emo scene" kid. But, he hated labels. He was just Mason.

That's all he would ever be. Worthless Mason Stone. He turned away from the mirror and switched the light back off. He pulled his hoodie over his head leaving him in only his black boxers. He sat on the edge of his bed and buried his head in his hands. He was in the same position for a while, until he started feeling sleep wanting to take over. He laid down, face first on his pillow and fell into a dreamless sleep.

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He woke up the next morning to the sound of his drunk fathers yelling. He looked at the clock beside his bed, it was six thirty in the morning. He groaned and rolled over. "For fucks sake, it not even seven and he's already wasted." His father was down stairs yelling at his mom for who knows what. If you hadn't guessed, Mason's father was an abusive alcoholic. He was drunk 24/7 and couldn't hold a job for longer than a week.

His mother worked her ass off just to make ends meet. Both of his parents pretty much ignored Mason because they didn't have time for him. Well, his mother didn't. His father was just too drunk out of his mind all the time to notice that Mason was even alive. Not that he was complaining, as long as his father didn't notice him the easier it would be for him not to get beat for no reason.

Mason closed his eyes for about two minutes before he decided to just get ready for school. He walked over to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and then hopped in the shower. After he was done he walked to his room in just his boxers. He dried his hair a bit with a towel before tossing it on the floor. He put on a black V-neck and slipped on some grey skinny jeans along with a checkered belt. He zipped up his Sleeping With Sirens jacket and laced up his purple Vans.

He tip toed down the stairs and heard his parents yelling become louder. He decided to skip breakfast and slipped out the door without a sound. He walked over to his car which he parked at his neighbors and put the key into the ignition. As he backed out of the drive way he reached into his pocket for a pack of gum. He had a strange addiction to fruity gum, he couldn't go a moment without it. He put his hood up and continued to drive down the road.

As Mason reached the school he found a parking closer to the back. He cut the engine and just sat there. He sat there for what felt like forever until something caught his eye outside. "Meh, just a squirrel." He muttered to himself. He sighed and opened his door, but before getting out he shoved his earphones in and put his hood higher above his head.

He looked down as he walked, trying to ignore the stares he got daily. Mason was pretty much an outcast at his school. He went to the type of school where if you didn't look like the "popular" kids, you were the scum of the earth and since Mason clearly wasn't as tan or perfectly groomed as the others, he either got completely ignored or ragged on. Overall, he was just ignored and had no friends. Not that he cared, he wasn't a big fan of people anyway. No one understood him.

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Doop. It's short.