Damaged

Chapter one: Promises

  He gasped for air. Feeling his legs begin to finally buckle from exhaustion, the familiar heat and pain soaring through them as he began to slow down his pace. He couldn’t tell what exactly he was running from anymore. Or exactly which direction he came from, which made him slightly scoff at himself. Knowing deep down he knew exactly where he was from walking in the area so many times.

But what exactly was he running from again? The people at school who always criticized him. Or maybe it was the man, who was supposed to be his father, that he came home to everyday. Only to get hurt in so many different ways. Hell maybe it was from himself. He couldn’t tell anymore, his mind muddled together so much. Not that he was really trying to find out, though. Not right then anyways.

He leaned against one of the many trees in the forest he found himself in. His feet possibly taking him to the forest subconsciously after so many trips to the area. ‘Muscle memory.’ He thought, a soft, bittersweet smile appearing on his lips.

The smile didn’t last long, not like it ever really did anyways. He slowly slid down to the ground. Sitting on the dried up leaves, and listening to them crinkle and break beneath his weight. Leaning his back against the tree and trying to catch his breath. His eyes quickly filling with tears for probably what was the fourth time that day. He lost track. Attempting desperately to hold in his sobs, like he did every time, but it was futile. Only managing to choke them back for a few seconds before his emotions broke through.

Pulling his legs to his chest as he sobbed. Feeling safe enough to do so now that he was alone, away from everyone and everything. Wanting nothing more then to disappear in that very moment. Though, like every time he wished for it, it never came true. After all, it was only a wish, and a wish that he didn’t have the courage to fulfill just yet.

His chest ached. Desperately trying his best to breathe some air into his lungs, while he sobbed. Hearing his father’s words echoing throughout his head. Over and over, like a broken record.

“I should’ve n-never...let you been born! You...you’ve just been a waste of space the moment you could even take your first b-breath. I have...no...no idea why you’re mother wanted t-to keep such a fucking disgrace like yo..you Keith. I should’ve tried har-harder to make her give up on you..”

He closed his eyes. Trying desperately to calm himself down. Telling himself it was only the alcohol his father consumed. That's all it was, only the alcohol. But that little voice in the back of his head always told him hr was wrong, and he was already believing it. He got himself to calm down after a while, getting ready to soon walk to the one place where he truly felt at peace that laid a little deeper within the woods. Taking a few more deep breaths, and counting to ten slowly, just like how his mother had taught him when he was younger. God how he missed her.

He opened his eyes again. Wiping at his face in a small mediocre attempt to dry his tears before slowly yet carefully standing up. Feeling a searing pain go through his body from the previous days events. Letting a soft sigh escape his lips before he trudged his way through the forest.

He walked up to one of the many trees in the woods, one that was a little more special then the others. It held a small tree house, hardly noticeable unless you were really paying attention to your surroundings. The very one that sheltered him in his desperate attempts to get away from the reality that was his life. The very tree house that he loved and treasured so desperately. Untainted by other people bringing in their memories. He wasn't sure what he would do if someone took away his one small safe space. It was just his, and his only. He began his climb up the makeshift ladder slowly, trying to not irritate his body any further, having already been hurt enough that day. Multiple wounds that took place on his body. Both self inflicted and caused by the abuse of others. Some old and some new.