Admist All of The Anger

Chapter 1

Max third person pov

Max layed silent in his bed, all while thought's echoed inside him, he didn't dare to make a sound, because of a tall brunette was sleeping soundly across from him.

'I wish I could do that..' Max sighed as he looked over towards the digital alarm clock that Niel had brought with him. 4:30 am.

"Dammit.." The small boy mumbled.

"You worthless fuck
Your parents don't give a shit
They hate you and you know it."

"David hates you, Nikki hates you, Niel hates you, and Gwen hates you."

"Give up."

"You're pointless."

"Everyone here wants you dead."

"Kill yourself."

The voices were screaming at him in his own head.

Tears made their way to Max's eye's.

He covered his ears in attempt to make the voices stop, or at least muffle them.

"Fuck, fuck..please make it stop.." he wimpered helplessly.

"Do you want the pain to end Maxwell?"

'Yes for the love of fucking god.'

"Okay..do you want to die, Max?"

'I don't know..anymore..'

"That'll change soon..but, I can help you for this short while, everytime you repeat what I show you, it will help, but, this has to be a secret.."

'Okay okay! What is it?'

"Get a blade or anything sharp."

'I have scissors in my bag?'

"That'll do."

Max quietly got up from his bed and took his small backpack from under the mattress.

He dug around for a moment until he felt the distict cold metalic feeling.

He put the bag back under the bed.

He climbed back onto the mattress still quiet being carefull trying not to wake Niel.

'Now what?'

"You have a choice. Choose one and you'll have to stick to that one until there is no more room."

'Okay.. what are my choices?'

"Arm, leg, or side..you have to choose wisely."

Max thought for a moment.

'Arm.'

"Which side?"

'Left.'

"Very well. The scissors, all you have to do is leave a cut, or two, your choice how many.'

'O-okay..'

Max's hands were shaking, he was nervous that Niel would wake up.

But he had to do this.

He opened the scissors, he stared at his bare arm.

He forcefully set the scissors on his arm, and slid left.

It hurt.
It stung.

He loved it.

So he did it again.
And again.
Again.
Again.

He arm was covered in blood, but now he felt like a burden had been lifted.

He felt like he could finally sleep. He checked the clock, 5:30 am.

He would have an an hour and a half to sleep, that was better than the last couple days.

He layed his head on the pillow and cloesed eyes, after he hid the scissors under the bed.

His arm was visible to the air.

The start of a terrible book