"That" Boy.
Dead, Dead and Dead.
He knew nothing meant anything, anymore. He didn't love anyone, no one loved him. His parents saw him as nothing but a burden, another mouth to feed at the table. They didn't want him around. They pushed him away.
They refused to believe he was their son.
He never spoke. Even if he did, no one would listen to him. He was alone in this world. This cold, dark, harsh world. They called him "fag" and "loser."
Hate is not a strong emotions for these people.
Weekend hours were spent sitting in his room. He had three activities: talking with his animals, playing his console games and staring at the wall. The wall was really interesting. His mind could see patterns on the walls, and he played with them. The reflections, the shadows.
It could keep him entertained for hours.
He never ate much. He wasn't very hungry. His parents didn't set a plate for him at the table, nor did they give him money for lunch. He used to grab a plate himself, and take it up to his room, where he shared it with his animals.
The kids at school stopped beating him when they realised he didn't have any money.
He fell over. No one knew the cause, apparently he had a heart problem from his eating habits. But because no one really knew who he was, or really cared, they didn't call an ambulance, they just stepped over his body, like a tree branch in the way.
No one noticed he was gone.
They refused to believe he was their son.
He never spoke. Even if he did, no one would listen to him. He was alone in this world. This cold, dark, harsh world. They called him "fag" and "loser."
Hate is not a strong emotions for these people.
Weekend hours were spent sitting in his room. He had three activities: talking with his animals, playing his console games and staring at the wall. The wall was really interesting. His mind could see patterns on the walls, and he played with them. The reflections, the shadows.
It could keep him entertained for hours.
He never ate much. He wasn't very hungry. His parents didn't set a plate for him at the table, nor did they give him money for lunch. He used to grab a plate himself, and take it up to his room, where he shared it with his animals.
The kids at school stopped beating him when they realised he didn't have any money.
He fell over. No one knew the cause, apparently he had a heart problem from his eating habits. But because no one really knew who he was, or really cared, they didn't call an ambulance, they just stepped over his body, like a tree branch in the way.
No one noticed he was gone.