My Favourite Pair of Sneakers

Being Ethan’s boyfriend has been absolutely amazing. The bullying has died down a lot and I feel so much safer.

But today I don’t have anyone to protect me because both he and Cody are sick and bed-ridden.

I’m worried about what may happen…

“I need to be extra careful today,” I thought to myself. Just as I did, I tripped and face-planted into the floor. As I got up, I heard a chorus of laughter. I didn’t bother to look; I just went on my way and kept my head down.

Why am I always here so early? There’s still at least half an hour until first period starts…

I sighed and shoved my backpack and lunch into my locker. When I shut the door, I was welcomed by an unwanted face.

“Hey faggot,” he smirked at me.

I tried to walk away, “Bye Smellvin.”

The smirk fell from Melvin’s face as he reached out and grabbed onto my arm, “Where do you think you’re going, queer?”

I glanced around for anyone that might help me, but there was no one around us. “Class.”

He yanked on my arm and shoved me up into the lockers. He got extremely up-close-and-personal with me and got in my face, “You’d better change your plans, because I have something better in mind.”

“Gee, Melvin, for someone who says they hate ‘faggots’ like me, you sure seem to enjoy getting close to me.”

Damn me and my sharp tongue.

He growled and roughly slammed my back into the lockers again. “Who do you think you are, faggot? No one talks to me like that. Show some God damn respect.”

I grimaced when he spat on my face. “Why should I respect someone who doesn’t respect me or treat me like a human being?”

Through gritted teeth, he said lowly, “Because you are not a person. You’re a faggot – you deserve to die at my feet.” Then a malicious smile worked its way onto his face. “Let’s go – I’ve got plans for you.” He stuck his disgusting fingers into my hair and clutched a large chunk of it in his fist. Then he wrenched my hair up and dragged me behind him.

“Ow ow ow!” I yelped in pain and stumbled behind him, unable to get away.

“Shut up,” he commanded.

Instead of snapping back at him, I merely complied and held back my tears.

I couldn’t – wouldn’t let him see me weak.

~~~~~

I missed school today, but that’s the easiest thing to take care of. All I needed was a fake sick note and I’d be excused. The hard part would be getting by Cody and possibly my parents who have the craziest work schedules ever.

I was also severely slowed down because of the pain. Seriously, I felt like a human punching bag. I hurt so much that I could hardly breathe. I hope my ribs aren’t broken. I approached my house limping and grimacing, and looked for cars.

Just Cody’s. Thank the Lord.

When I finally got to the door, I tried to relax and act normal.

I don’t really understand why I don’t want anyone to know what happened; all I know is that I have to keep it a secret…

I opened the door and looked around, but the coast was clear. So I went upstairs and checked on Cody like any good brother would.

I cracked open his door and said, “Hey, I’m home. If you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

He sat up in his bed, “Hey LooLoo. How was school?”

I stepped inside to lean on the door frame. I shrugged, “Fine. Got a bunch of hate and Melvin and his lackeys shoved me into the lockers when they passed by, but nothing major.”

He stared me down skeptically, “If you’re sure…”

I smiled weakly, “I’m sure. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

He groaned, “Like a train wreck. I’ve been puking and sleeping all day. I swear, when I wasn’t doing one, I was doing the other.”

“Damn,” I said as I looked him over. He looked as bad as he said he felt – ghostly pale and shiny with sweat. I’d hate to be him right now.

But then again, I think I’d prefer that over being me any day.

“Yeah. You should leave. I don’t want you getting this… Whatever this is,” he said and lay back down.

I started to back out, “Alright. Well, if you need anything, let me know.”

He raised his arm in acknowledgement and I shut the door.

I sighed and retreated to the confines of my own room.

~~~~~

Why does he do it?

I was lying on my bed and thinking about why Melvin and people like him hate me. I had already checked out the damage and bandaged what I could. I took a couple pain killers, but my body still ached.

Why does he constantly go out of his way to make my life miserable?

Then a voice that I thought I had gotten rid of years ago returned like a whisper of wind.

Maybe it’s because you’re a freak.

I gasped softly and my eyes shot open, but otherwise I didn’t move a muscle.

The voice continued to prod my ear drums with its eerie moaning.

You’re a pathetic and scrawny weed; a worthless queer walking around and wasting resources.

A tear pricked at the corner of my eye and I gripped tightly onto the bed sheets. I whispered, “You’re lying. Get out of my head!”

It slithered its way through my ear canal and floated like a thick fog around my brain.

That’s impossible Louis, you know that. I am you. I’m always here, Louis. Always.

I squeezed my eyes shut and squirmed as I tried to fight off the creepy crawlies wriggling under my skin and the hateful, unwanted voices entrancing and enveloping my mind. I tightly clamped my jaw shut and forced a scream back down my throat.

The voice only laughed at me. You can’t fight me, Louis. You’re a weakling. You can’t do anything.

I whimpered as it continued to demean and degrade me.

You don’t deserve to live. No one wants you here anyway. No one wants trash.

“E-Ethan wants me…” I mumbled, trying to insert some sanity into my raging thoughts.

Ha! Not a chance. He’s just using you. You’re just a chew toy to him. You mean nothing to anyone. You’re a rag doll.

I fell silent and still as I gave up and let myself be totally consumed by the overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

I knew it. I knew you couldn’t fight me! You’re too weak. Why don’t you just cut yourself like you used to? Huh? I love watching you bleed.

Having fallen completely victim to the voices, I got out of bed shakily and peered underneath it. When I found what I was looking for, I pulled it out and returned to the mattress.

It was a shoebox. I used it to hide my razors so neither Cody nor my parents could find them. I hadn’t opened it in years.

I lifted the lid and watched as about twenty razor blades sparkled at me as if to say, “We love you, Louis. We missed you, Louis. Use us, Louis.”

So I did. I picked one up out of the box and put the rest to the side. I laid one arm out on my pillow and held the blade between the fingers of the other. I paused and let the sharp metal hover above my wrist.

Go on, faggot. You’ll feel so much better once you just do it. You know you want to.

It was at that time, after those words swirled through my brain, that I sliced my wrist.

Over…

And over…

And over again…

Then I watched as streams of beautiful red blood – my blood – flowed down my arm and mixed with the tears falling from my eyes.

I am a monster…