Where Am I? (boyxboy)

Chapter One

My day started like any other, except today was different, this would be my first day going back to school, with kids I had once known, and who had once known me. I doubted anyone would recognize me. The dyed black hair, with its blue and purple streaks, straightened to perfectly cover my right eye. My lip piercing and eyeliner rendered me unrecognizable. Also since I figured out I was gay and acted like a total moron, no one would ever guess that I was the Dawson Trick. Just to be safe I went by a different name.

Yup, to everyone at school I would be known as Crow. Don't ask why. It did suit me though. I got up to the sound of my alarm, and lazily groped around looking for the off switch. I opened my eyes into slits looking at the red blinking numbers. Six thirty. I had an hour and a half to get ready. Groaning I heaved myself out of bed. Today the fun would begin. I'd probably be bullied by the same kids who once stood beside me. I wonder what rumors had circulated about me over the years. If any.

Another day of acting totally indifferent. Great. I staggered over to my bathroom, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I yawned loudly. I wore just a pair of boxers and without my bracelets I could clearly see the healed gashes that littered my wrists. I sneered in disgust. I pulled my boxer legs up in the mirror so I could survey the new cuts that were hidden on my thighs. Angry deep slices shown red in the mirror. I sighed. The tingling in my arms began, triggering my to run a blade across my skin. I happily obligued, taking a razor blade from the cabinet and running it across my wrists. Hopping in the shower quickly as to not drip blood on the tiled floor.

Blood, sweat and dirt were washed down the drain as I lathered my skin, feeling the dull ache in my wrist each time I moved it, luckily I was a fast healer. After shampooing my hair and rinsing it out I stepped out of the shower, still not totally awake. Pulling a fluffy grey towel from the hanger I dried the stray droplets that ran down my tan skin. Careful not to get any blood on the towel, I bandaged my wrist tightly before pulling out a blow dryer and straightener. Oh the things we do for beauty.

Sometimes I really hated my little habit of cutting. Honestly somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was wrong, I knew I had a problem. The thing about addicts is, they don't admit they have an addiction until they've recovered. Sometimes the emotions would weigh me down and a boulder would rest on my chest. I would cut to feel something... Some days my anger and sadness rampaged through my body and I would cut to feel the control I was lacking. Posters covered many holes in my walls, from the days when anger would sizzle through my veins like a wild fire. Cutting was like walking on a tightrope. Forever balancing from left to right. Either way you were going to fall.

After I had done my hair into its usual style I rimmed my eyes with black liner, making my topaz eyes glow. Deciding what to wear, I settled on ripped black jeans, with heavy chains hanging from the belt loops, a purple and black striped shirt that hugged my torso and a silver studded belt that hung loosely on my hips. I wasn't short, or twig like. I stood at a good six, two and had muscles from many years of working out, even if I did have the little hiccup of being in a program for three months.

It had been almost three years since I had been in this town, at that school, with those kids. Three years of heartache and pain. I had a feeling this year was going to be different, whether that was good or bad, I don't know. Once I slipped on my black converse I was bounding down the stairs, then running back up them in a mad dash for my room.

I forgot my bracelets and Aunt Raven would have a heart attack if she saw my wrist, and I'd probably end up in another hospital. After coating my arms with bracelets, not the girly kind, I trumped down the stairs, grabbing an apple for the road. School was only a twenty minute walk. And checking my phone, I only had ten. Shrugging to myself, I sighed. At least I could make an entrance.