Hate isn't a feeling. It's a way of life.
I stabbed my self.
Ryan's P.O.V
"Do we have to move?" Kelly my older sister asked my owners (Mother and Father). I wasn't allowed to call them mom or dad. They own me and that's it.
"Yes Kelly, we have to." My Mother owner said to her in the nicer way you could ever do. Then she turn to me and shoot in the worst unloving voice ever. "Now are you going to just stand there or are you going to get the bags?" I knew she wanted me to get the bags so I ran up the stairs and grabbed all the remaining bags and started to walk down the stairs but I fell hitting my head on the wall and then falling the rest of the way down. They stood there and laugh at me but then Justin (my brother) came over.
"Are you OK Ryan?" He was smacked in the back of the head and looked at me. I saw sorriness and sadness in his eyes. He was the only one who cared about me but sometimes he had to be mean. "Because if not I'll make you not OK." I got up and showed no sign of be hurt or not being hurt.
"Ha ha Ryan fell down the stairs." My sister was loving at times, just not to me. She hated me. She hated everyone. I could feel Father owner push me in the back.
"Get movin` now." No one loved me in this family. Justin loved me but he's not part of the family and neither was I. I was slave, and all I was able to do on my free will was breathe. I had to ask to eat, sleep, talk, smile, cry, blink my eyes, walk, think, read, go to my room, look around, watch T.V, go to the bathroom, and many other things. I could bearly breathe from the last beatin` from my Mother. I walked out of the house carrying all the bags and put them in the back of the truck. I closed the doors and was about to get in the real part of the truck (were you sit). "Hey fag. What are you doing?"
"I-I'm going in." He hit me so hard blood came from my nose. My brother seen it and all he could do was look away. I wasn't allowed to hold my nose to stop the blooding so I just stood there and smiled.
"I didn't say you could talk, now did I?" I shook my head no once then looked at the ground. He hit me again and blood splattered on the truck. I don't feel pain at all. I'm always numb and I like getting hit. It showed I didn't scar from anything in the past. "Look at me when I'm talkin` to you." I still looked down with a smile on my face. "I said look at me!" He grabbed my neck and held me in the air. I was motionless and still smiled. "What the hell are you smilin` at funkin` fag." I closed my eyes and was ready for ,yet again, another hit. "Well. Speak you fuckin` cocksucker."
I laughed a little "I'm smiling at how hard you are trying to hurt me. You can't hurt me, you never could, and you never will. Now if you put me down I'll show you no one could hurt me." He put me down and I stood there. "Want do you want me to do owner? Anything. I don't care." I smiled a little, put my head down and only looked with my eyes.
"Take this knife. Stab you arm and you will prove your point." I took the knife and waited a little so everyone was watching me.
"Wait." Justin yelled not watching. "What happens after he does it?"
My Father owner looked at me. "He can take it out and put something on it to stop the bleeding. Now lets go. I thought nothin` can hurt you." I looked at the knife in my hand. Was it worth it? To me I didn't care but to Justin, I think he was thinking I could die. So what. I didn't need him to love me. I did need anyone to love me. I pulled up my sleeve. I made an X were I was going to stab my self and it started to bleed. I put the knife in the slit and held it with the hand of the arm I was doing it to. I took my other and pushed it in with in sign of pain. "All the way, boy." I looked how far I had to push it in and soon I had it in so far you couldn't even see the blade.
"Who want to take it out?" Kelly walked over and pulled it out and blood started to rush down my arm. I didn't cover it with my hand, I just let it bleed. I smiled at my Father owner. "Happy. I didn't fell anything." He handed my a shirt that he had in his hand. "What's this for."
"Fucker. Don't talk back. It's to put over the wound so blood won't stain the truck seats. Now get in." When I did Justin was looking out the window and he was crying. I did bother to ask why. And we drove off.
{A/N: So what did you think? I need to know. Should I remove it or what? Plzzzzzz tell me.}
"Do we have to move?" Kelly my older sister asked my owners (Mother and Father). I wasn't allowed to call them mom or dad. They own me and that's it.
"Yes Kelly, we have to." My Mother owner said to her in the nicer way you could ever do. Then she turn to me and shoot in the worst unloving voice ever. "Now are you going to just stand there or are you going to get the bags?" I knew she wanted me to get the bags so I ran up the stairs and grabbed all the remaining bags and started to walk down the stairs but I fell hitting my head on the wall and then falling the rest of the way down. They stood there and laugh at me but then Justin (my brother) came over.
"Are you OK Ryan?" He was smacked in the back of the head and looked at me. I saw sorriness and sadness in his eyes. He was the only one who cared about me but sometimes he had to be mean. "Because if not I'll make you not OK." I got up and showed no sign of be hurt or not being hurt.
"Ha ha Ryan fell down the stairs." My sister was loving at times, just not to me. She hated me. She hated everyone. I could feel Father owner push me in the back.
"Get movin` now." No one loved me in this family. Justin loved me but he's not part of the family and neither was I. I was slave, and all I was able to do on my free will was breathe. I had to ask to eat, sleep, talk, smile, cry, blink my eyes, walk, think, read, go to my room, look around, watch T.V, go to the bathroom, and many other things. I could bearly breathe from the last beatin` from my Mother. I walked out of the house carrying all the bags and put them in the back of the truck. I closed the doors and was about to get in the real part of the truck (were you sit). "Hey fag. What are you doing?"
"I-I'm going in." He hit me so hard blood came from my nose. My brother seen it and all he could do was look away. I wasn't allowed to hold my nose to stop the blooding so I just stood there and smiled.
"I didn't say you could talk, now did I?" I shook my head no once then looked at the ground. He hit me again and blood splattered on the truck. I don't feel pain at all. I'm always numb and I like getting hit. It showed I didn't scar from anything in the past. "Look at me when I'm talkin` to you." I still looked down with a smile on my face. "I said look at me!" He grabbed my neck and held me in the air. I was motionless and still smiled. "What the hell are you smilin` at funkin` fag." I closed my eyes and was ready for ,yet again, another hit. "Well. Speak you fuckin` cocksucker."
I laughed a little "I'm smiling at how hard you are trying to hurt me. You can't hurt me, you never could, and you never will. Now if you put me down I'll show you no one could hurt me." He put me down and I stood there. "Want do you want me to do owner? Anything. I don't care." I smiled a little, put my head down and only looked with my eyes.
"Take this knife. Stab you arm and you will prove your point." I took the knife and waited a little so everyone was watching me.
"Wait." Justin yelled not watching. "What happens after he does it?"
My Father owner looked at me. "He can take it out and put something on it to stop the bleeding. Now lets go. I thought nothin` can hurt you." I looked at the knife in my hand. Was it worth it? To me I didn't care but to Justin, I think he was thinking I could die. So what. I didn't need him to love me. I did need anyone to love me. I pulled up my sleeve. I made an X were I was going to stab my self and it started to bleed. I put the knife in the slit and held it with the hand of the arm I was doing it to. I took my other and pushed it in with in sign of pain. "All the way, boy." I looked how far I had to push it in and soon I had it in so far you couldn't even see the blade.
"Who want to take it out?" Kelly walked over and pulled it out and blood started to rush down my arm. I didn't cover it with my hand, I just let it bleed. I smiled at my Father owner. "Happy. I didn't fell anything." He handed my a shirt that he had in his hand. "What's this for."
"Fucker. Don't talk back. It's to put over the wound so blood won't stain the truck seats. Now get in." When I did Justin was looking out the window and he was crying. I did bother to ask why. And we drove off.
{A/N: So what did you think? I need to know. Should I remove it or what? Plzzzzzz tell me.}