One Shots!

AJ's Backstory (1)

Warnings: Implied rape, homophobic slurs, swears, and abuse. Oh, and bullying. Yep.

Dark. Movement. Pain. PainpainpainCAN’TBREATHECAN’TBREATHEPAINPAINPAIN. Blinding pain, screaming. A smack. Warmth. Then, nothing. Cold. Alone. Painpainpain.

 

“-den? Aiden? AIDEN! Get ahold of yourself!” Sharp pain. A voice. I opened my eyes. “He’s gone. You’re pretty banged up though. C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I saw the speaker. A shadowy form. Memories came rushing back. I ruthlessly squashed them.

 

“Can’t move…” I rasped. They shadowy figure sighed, golden eyes flashing.

 

“He hurt you pretty bad this time. Well, I’ll do my best to heal you…” he said. His eyes flashed brighter, and most of the pain went away. I was able to stand up again. I staggered to the bathroom and turned on the water. I could hear him moving things around to clean them. I got in the shower and tried to wash away the memories.

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The Next Day…

 

I staggered to the mirror, still in pain from the night before. I popped two Advil and brushed my hair. I tried to arrange the blue-highlighted strands over my black eye. My wrist twinged in pain, and I winced. Looks like I’d need to splint that… I grit my teeth and popped my joints back into place before wrapping them in a splint made of chopsticks and a bandage.

 

I put concealer over the bruises on my hands and neck, before getting dressed. I pulled my beanie on to make sure that my hair didn’t move during the day. I was ready. Time to face the day.

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Walking through the hall, I kept my head down to avoid looking at anybody. I had to use magic to keep the pressure from my backpack off of my back, so I didn’t want anybody seeing my glowing eyes. The scarf around my neck felt too tight, and my wrist hurt like hell. I walked into class silently, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. I kept my head down and walked to my seat. I took off my backpack and dropped the magic before sticking it under my desk. I tugged my sleeve down to cover the makeshift splint.

 

“Aiden? You’re late.” said Mr. Wheaton. The class snickered. “Do you have a tardy slip?” he asked. I nodded and walked to the front of the class to give it to him. When I did, my sleeve slipped back, revealing the bandages. He narrowed his eyes and wrote me a note before sending me back to my seat. I sat down and opened it. It said “Go see the school counselor at lunch.” I sighed silently. There goes yet another day of eating…

 

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