Stop

Chapter one

Kyle's POV:

Im sitting in my room listening to Drown by Bring Me The Horizon- one of my favorite bands. Slowly nodding to the beat of the music, I texted my best friend Kasidy about what to wear on my date with Aron- my boyfriend of 14 months. I love him so much, he just makes my days better by breathing. But...neither of them know about..my true self, the one that hides behind my armor that I keep on day and night. The only time I ever let my guard down is when I'm writing, listening to music or...self harming. Yes, you guessed it. The gay boy hates himself. For almost 5 years now, I've cut, burned, bruised, slapped, pinched and hurt myself on just about every way I can. Now, before you start ranting about how bad it is and how I need to stop blah blah blah, just hear me out, okay? What if you have no air? You know, like you're drowning? You're muscles ache for oxygen, you're lungs and throat burn for relief. What if you were in a small box, drowning, and the only way to let yourself out- let yourself breathe- was to..let yourself go?

That's what it feel like for me, like I'm drowning, burning for relief. It's like there's nothing to do to stop the pain, even if it's just for a few seconds. And when you cut, you get that. You take a breath as you slide the blade across your skin, pulling it open as blood runs out; you let the pain go, like the water in the broke the box. Because in my eyes? If I'm hurting on the inside, I'll scar the outside to match my heart. I'll control the pain I feel inside by controlling the pain I feel outside. Most days I just feel numb, like nothing can get me to be okay ever again.

And when you feel like that everyday of your life? It only gets worse as the days go by.

But that's just me- and everyone tells me I'm a freak. But, let's talk about the past, maybe it'll explain why I feel so much pain. I've been bullied for as long as I can remember because, well, I was different. I still am different and thats why.

I get beaten, bruised, screamed at every single day and no one knows but me and them. Mostly, they bully me because I'm gay. They say "Hey, there's the emo fag," and laugh before shoving me into lockers or decking me in the face. But my home life? It's no better. My mom died when I was born- birthing complications- and my dad blames me. He's a druggie alcoholic who beats me because it's my fault Mom died. My brother is not any better, though. He always hurts me- he's the leader of the bully pack at school- but I can't blame him. He was six when Mom died- at least he knew her and has memories- so he has more to lose than I did. I never met her.

(Photo of kyle and kasidy on the side)