You Need a Jacket

You Need a Jacket – Part 3

That night I just sat in my bed, curled up in the corner and cried. I cried to hard that my chest started to hurt and started to feel physically sick.

My mom was gone…and I had no idea when she was coming back.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the front door slam, signalling that my dad was home. This’ll be fun.

Listening carefully, I noticed that across the hall was too quiet. Maybe he found the note.

I got my answer when I heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Must have flipped the table.

There were loud footsteps coming towards my room. I started to panic.

Running over to my closet, I flung the doors open and threw myself inside closing the door just enough so I could see through it and covering my face with my hood.

He swung my door open, stumbling in with a bottle in his hand. I could smell him from the closet, the stench of stale alcohol and piss. No wonder my mom left.

‘Where are you, FAGGOT!?’ He yelled, making me jump a little.

I covered my mouth with my hoodie to muffle my panicked breathing. I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest, scared that he could hear me.

He was about to leave, slowly walking toward the door, until my phone vibrated loudly in my pocket.

Shit!

I heard him snort, and storm over to my closet, swinging the doors open.

I flinched as the doors opened and sank further into my closet.

‘You little shit! This is all your fucking fault!’ He screamed at me, grabbing a fist full of my hair by the root, dragging me forward, and making me stand.

‘Because of YOU, she left me! Because of you being a faggot! You’ll regret the day you were ever born, you piece of shit!’ He screamed in my face.

A tear rolled down my cheek. ‘I already do.’ I mumbled.

He growled under his breath and realised my hair. Just as he turned to leave, he looked at my one last time, colliding his fist with my left cheekbone.

At first, I didn’t feel the punch, I just fell to the floor and then it hit me. It felt like I’d run full force into a brick wall.

He smirked and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

I sat on the floor, feeling my cheek and eye start to swell. This was gonna be hard to talk myself out of tomorrow.

Wiping away a few tears, I stood up, grabbing the little box from underneath my bed, opening it and revealing a small blood stained razor.

Lifting it out of the box, I started slashing at my arms, blood pouring down my wrist. Tears continued to fall down my face.

I really was a pathetic piece of shit.

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The next morning, I woke up before my alarm. Well, I wouldn’t say woke up, I pretty much just lay there all night, crying.

I sighed and rolled out of bed, looking in the mirror on my wall. My face was purple and swelled up like a basketball.

I threw on my Architects shirt, grey skinny jeans, black TOMS and my oversized hoodie, pulling the sleeves over my newly damaged arms. Would probably need to bandage them later.

Looking over at my phone, I realised I didn’t check the message from the night before, the message that gave away my hiding place.

Unlocking it, Vic’s name appeared on screen, causing my heart to flutter a little.

Shake it off Kellin! The guy’s straight!

I opened the message, and it read;

‘Hey Kells! Don’t forget about Blessthefall tomorrow! Oh! And me and Mike will give you a ride to school, pick you up at 7:30 ;) xxxx’

I smiled at the message, instantly regretting it as it caused a surge of pain to shoot through my face. This really sucked.

Looking at me clock on the bedside table, it was only 7am, giving me 30 minutes until Vic and Mike would be here.

Sighing, I pulled my lyric book toward me, scribbling down a few words and chords.

There was a sound of a car horn outside. Looking out the window, I could see Vic and Mike pull up in Vic’s car.

Smiling, I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door, not wanting to run into my dad, because I was pretty sure the sound of the car horn would have woken him up.

I walked up to their car and got in the front seat, next to Vic.

They both gasped when I closed the door.

‘What?’ I asked curiously.

‘Kells, what happened to your face?’ Vic said in a panic-struck voice.

Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

‘Oh, right, this,’ I said pointing to my cheek, trying to smile, ‘Yeah, I tripped over some clothes in my room and fell into the doorframe, no big.’

‘Kellin, that doesn’t look like a doorframe print, it looks like knuckles.’ Mike said, worry in his voice too.

‘It’s fine guys, can we just go to school.’ I said, or, kinda snapped.

Vic sighed, ‘Ok, fine, we’ll change subject.’

I put my hood up, trying to cover my face. They were on to me. They could see straight threw me.

I could feel their eyes burn into the side of my head and it was started to make me feel nauseous.

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When we got to school, the nausea was still there. I leapt out of the car and started to vomit in the parking lot.

Vic saw what was happening and rushed to my side, holding my hair back out of firing lines of the explosive bile that came up.

‘Its ok, get it up.’ He said, rubbing my back soothingly.

I retched a little, ‘That’s what she said.’ I giggled, before throwing up a little more.

Vic chuckled a little, ‘Really Kells?’

The nickname gave me butterflies.

After a few minutes, I was starting to feel better, and had stopped retching.

‘What brought that on?’ Vic asked curiously.

I shook my head, ‘I have no idea, but I think I’m good.’

‘You sure you’re ok?’ He asked again.

I nodded, trying to smile again.

I then saw Mike walk over to us, ‘Sorry man, I’m not good with, you know, vomit.’ He joked.

I laughed a little, ‘Its cool man, I’m not a fan myself.’

‘I’ll take you to the nurse, and maybe she’ll take a look at your eye too.’ Vic said, concern flooding his voice again.

I thought for a second, before nodding, knowing I wouldn’t be able to say no.

Vic grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the building.

I tried so hard to hold back my cries of pain, as he was pulling on one of the cuts from last night.

Just as we got to the nurse, the pain got too much, and I yanked my hand away from Vic and clutched it to my body.

‘Kells, are you ok?’ He asked.

Shit, it was bleeding!

I looked up at him, praying the pain didn’t show on my face. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

I could feel blood drip down to my hand. Vic’s eyes widened.

‘Kellin, wha-what happened to your arm.’ He sounded scared.

I panicked. I looked at him, then back at my arm, then at him again.

Before he could say another word, I darted in the opposite direction and ran towards to boy’s bathroom, locking myself into one of the cubicles.

I sank to the floor, wrapping toilet paper around my arm to stop the bleeding.

This can’t be happening!