My Life (JC Caylen)([#WATTYS2015])

o n e

I walk into the hell that is my school, going to my first class, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as I look for Joe, not seeing him anywhere. Great I have to go through the day alone. 
I make it through the first half of the day without getting bullied. I walk past the lunchroom, deciding it would be smarter to go to the bathroom and skip lunch, but I end up spending the rest of the day, listening to music and scrolling through random tags on Tumblr.
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I'm sitting in my bedroom, doing my homework, when I get a text from my best friend, and quite frankly my only friend, Joe.
"Hey want to hang out later? I have something I really need to tell you!" It reads. I respond immediately with "Yeah, I'll meet you at Taco Bell in 10?" After getting a text agreeing with that, I put my phone down and pull on a sweatshirt, despite the fact it's about 60 degrees outside right now, to cover my wrists. "I'm going out Mom!" I scream, even though she probably isn't home. I sigh and walk outside, grabbing my penny board from my garage and putting it down, riding the few blocks it takes to get to the Taco Bell.
I get bullied a lot for a couple of reasons but one main reason, I am gay. I came out in my freshman year of high school, which is when it started.
When I get to Taco Bell, I see Joe with the people who always bully me. I'm slightly surprised, but I shouldn't be because Joe is on the football team, and so are the boys that bully me the most, so they are good friends.
"Hey Joe, what's up?" I say, slightly nervous around all these people. "Hey Jc! I hope you don't mind, the boys joined for today!" Joe said, overly cheery. "Uh,' I hesitate, "yeah... sure" I walk over cautiously, knowing that I might be in danger of them hurting me. Joe knows they bully me but never said anything to them, even when he's watched me get beat up. We got ordered our food and just talked, siting in a booth. I had a generally good time, other then the nasty looks I was getting from the all other guys the whole time. As we were leaving, Isaac, the star quarter back, walked behind me and saying, "Watch your back, fucking fag!" As he kicked the back of my leg, causing me to fall to the ground. He laughed as I hit the ground and kicked my stomach and face, time and time. He watched me lay there in pain for a minute before lifting me by the shirt and standing me up. He punched my face before letting me walk away. I keep my distance behind the group and quietly kick rocks as I carry my penny board. "Hey Jc, what's with the long face?" I hear Joe next to me. I look up and see him smiling at me. "It's nothing" I lie, wanting Joe to leave me alone. "Well I have something to tell you, it's really important." Joe says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "Okay" I mumble. "So you know how we've been friends for a while, right?" Joe starts, but continues before letting me answer. "Well, all of that was fake. I never wanted to be friends with you. We aren't friends, you're just a fag. Fuck you, never talk to me again, unless you have to" he says, with that, he punches me in the face, hard. I turn around run home, tear stains on my face. I burst through the door and go straight to the bathroom, not caring if anyone's home, even though they probably aren't, they never are. I grab my razor and slide the blade across the fragile skin on my already scared and scabbed wrist. I smile as I watch the blood pile on my wrist, dripping drop by drop to the slightly red tainted floor that was originally white. "Fvck" I scream, banging my head against the wall, sliding my body down. "Why the fvck am I so naive god dammit." I scream, tears pouring down my bruised face. The one good thing about my parents not being home is they never see me so they can't ask questions. I bang my head again and keep crying. I grab my razor off the floor and continue to slice my wrist. "Shït" I mumble, realizing how many times I've cut already. I put wrap my wrist and curl into my bed, not bothering to change. I quickly find myself falling asleep, not caring anymore, about anything.