Mcyt- Oneshots (at least thats what is planned)

(?u can decide)- ?

I don't know but I guess warning. Don't read if you have a homophobic family or struggles with yourself. Or if u r traumatized
I know it sucks and I don't want you to give ideas.
If you struggle. You can always talk with me <3

Tears are running down his face. The entire body shaking, the breathing way to fast. The words of his grandma repeating over and over again.
"That's not right for me. They should be dead"
Sometimes he wishes his grandfather would be alive. To be honest he never met him. His grandfather died before he was born. From what he was told that man was a strict one. No one said something about his grandfather being homophobic but somewhere deep in his heart he wishes he was. And would be still alive.
His grandfather should beat the shit out of him. Making it go away.
He is a favor. A retard. A disgrace for his family. And disappointment.
Fuck.
He is even on a catholic school. And still he is a fucking retard. He is fucking raised catholic. Still here he is.
Everyone should hate him. Like his grandmother would if she knew it.
Why do they like him?
He is sure that they wouldn't if they knew the truth. Actually he should tell them. But he doesn't plan to.

Why can't he be normal?
Why does he like both? Or even more. Why does he not know what gender he is?
How?
Why does this happens to him?
What does he love?
Everything and nothing.
Why?
Because of it. He is open minded. No problem with lgbtq. Heck he does belong to them. But still. The fear. It.
Love is pain. Love is your end. It will bring death. Pain and death. Don't get in touch with it. He is fucked up.
Scared of being loved. Scared of saying who he loves.
Not even friends.
Friends?
Does he has some?
Yes and no.
But this doesn't matter. Talking about it and it an other time.

He is sitting in the same spot like two years ago. When he tried suicide. So many times. Because of it. Only this time the reason is different.
Is it?
No it's not.
Just an other reason more to kill himself. Three good reasons.
Everyone would be better without him. Everything would be better.

One year and a half year after his last attempt he is here again.
Maybe he should have thrown everything away. The scissor. The blades. Everything.
But he didn't.
Without even really realizing it he grabs them. Starring into the air.
With shaking hands he grabs one of it. Not really caring what. Taking a deep breath and-
Cuts.
Just like the other times he is to stupid.
Not deep enough. Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
To stupid to commit suicide.
Stupid for everything. Retard.
The tears streaming faster. The blade cutting into his fingers.
The pain not there.
He doesn't feel it.

Somewhere in his heart deep buried a boy stuck in his 11 year of life is screaming. Help me.
But no one hears it.
No one can help.
When they tried it was always:

Yes I'm fine.

He never really was.
No one asked again... maybe he will do it someday. Finally.
Or someone will hear the boy scream and help.
Fix him if there is still something left.
Or show him to love.
Without getting panic attacks or having to throw up. Being scared of a cut. Of pain.

Maybe someday. Maybe he will be dead or alive.
But he already gave up.
No one will notice.
His only purpose is to wait for his death.

His body goes numb. Tiredness catching up.