Hate Me

Have you ever felt invisible? Well, that’s how I feel every second of my life. Every minute, my heart feels like it’s on fire, an aching burning sensation. Like how I felt when I was adopted.

Don’t get me wrong, it was fine the first. Until my ‘brother’ came into the picture.

He was absolutely hate-filled. Maybe May and Evan have something about taking in the orphans that have something wrong with them; that never were adopted.

For me, it must have been because I was, well, I wasn’t exactly a fun child. I was extremely quiet and I didn’t really notice others.

For Sloan, it had to be because he didn’t let anyone tell him what to do. He lashed out frequently at anyone and everyone. He made my life an absolute hell.

He’d call me a cutter, he’d start fights with me when I did nothing, to him I was always a useless, spoiled, freak. He hated me.

And as much as I hate to admit it, he was right about the cutter part. He didn’t know though, he just went by the way I dressed. Blades were my game. You’d think that there would be nothing comforting about a knife, but I believed it just depended on what kind of person you were. Ones who shoulder their weakness, the ones that hurt all of the time, they feel nothing. In a sick way, it reminded me that all I had to be was flesh, nothing more, other than that, I was nothing.

No matter what, I’d never let May and Evan find out. They were good to me, they didn’t deserve to find out something like that. They just didn’t know what was going on between Sloan and I and how much of a terrible person he was. How he made me feel like shit all of the time.

And it wasn’t just him. There were also the people at school. Maybe it was because I was short, maybe it was because I dressed the way I did, maybe it was because Sloan told them to hate me. I have no idea; I just tried to ignore it.

Maybe I don’t care anymore, I don’t think I should anyways so it doesn’t matter.

~*~*~*~*

“Get the fuck up,” I could just feel the spite in that one sentence. But I did as I was told and rolled out of bed, waiting for Sloan to leave so I could get dressed.

Black ripped skinny jeans, a band shirt, a jacket, three studded belts, a singled wrist warmer that supported chains that also hid quite a few things I didn’t want others to see.

I just let my hair be the black mess it was on my head, covering my green eyes and my forehead, maybe even most of my cheeks.What’s a mirror again?

“Have a good day at school Norman,” May called after me. I didn’t mind that she called me Norman, but I really preferred to be called Nero.

Not that anyone cared or anything. “Mhm,” I mumbled absentmindedly before grabbing backpack.

I always left earlier than Sloan so I could get to school without him tagging along behind me, mental abuse intact.

~*~*~*~*

The first person I saw was the only person to ever be nice to me; Kale. All he said was, “Hello Nero,” before heading back down the hallway.

Everyone knew his family story. He could get anyone here to do anything he wanted. He was the son of a mob boss. Before his father moved anyways. And when his dad moved, he decided it was time to separate from his family. Because unlike his family, he never, ever, resorted to their ways. He had an honest job at a gas station, which his father left him to manage because Kale ‘sure as hell wasn’t getting any money from him,’ as he put it.

Everyone feared him because of what his father could do, it forced people to stay away from him.

But I knew better, the boy had a heart of gold. Which is why he separated from his parents and never resorted to violence to solve disputes.

Although, there was also Amy and her brother, Ryan. Amy was loyal, fiercely protective of everyone around her. I mean that, she hates everyone with a passion that so much as looks at me the wrong way.

Her half-brother Ryan was an entirely different story.

One minute, he was hating me because of his friends, the next he’d offer me an ice pack for the newly acquired bruise. I didn’t understand him. He’d let his friends walk all over me. He never took sides though so he didn’t stand up for me nor did he trample over me like his jock buddies.

Amy couldn’t tell me anything about him so I never asked. Besides, half of me didn’t want to know what was going on inside his head. Besides, Amy had enough to deal with what with her mother killing herself and then being torn between staying with the father than abandoned her and her mentally abusive grandmother.

He looked utterly guilty whenever he tried to help me get back on my feet after his friends were through with me. But he never apologized. Not for them, not for himself.