Wounds Heal (Scars Don't)

Chapter One

Chapter One

I shrank down as mom came at me again. Tears fell from my eyes as she made me fall to the ground, calling me a piece of shit and a waste of space. God, they didn’t even know my secret only everyone at school did. They did this, because I can’t or, rather won’t talk. I probably should’ve given in months ago, to escape from this torture. No, I’m much too stubborn for that. I’m not strong nor do I pretend to be. I just don’t know when to give in. My thoughts were broken as something glass hit the floor landing just a few feet from my head. My eyes widened, and I turned over laying on my stomach, hands moving quickly to cover my head to block anything aiming for it.
I went into fetal position to help protect my body, shutting my grey eyes. Ha. Why they named me Grey is obvious. Why they thought that was a brilliant idea still leaves me clueless and wondering. I know my mom didn’t drink when she was pregnant with me. Only because of my, now deceased, grandmother did my mother not drink while pregnant. I knew my grandmother for only a short amount of time. Most of which was when I was still an infant. I would like to have gotten to know the woman she was, but mom won’t talk or speak of her. I get punished if I ask about it. I coughed, having been kicked in the side. Blood dribbled from my busted lip. I’d have trouble tomorrow trying to move around. Maybe I’d just skip school instead of going there. I was starting to feel the pain come to an end as she finished beating me. With one last kick to my stomach, she left. I coughed up blood sighing.
I watched as she walked away. Once I knew she and dad were in their room, I stumbled to my feet, reaching out to the counter or wall for help. I needed to just keep bandages and gauze, and disinfectants and stuff in my room. It was closer to the kitchen than the bathroom was. Sighing as I stood, a groan coming from my blood stained lips. I soon was limping towards the bathroom. I grabbed half of the medical supplies and went to my room. Once there, I started to bandage my wounds, slipping my shirt off from my skin. I glanced at the window, closing it getting paranoid. I then looked at my abdomen, grabbing my glasses to inspect the bruising and the damage it had taken this time. I managed to bandage the cut places. I soon got to my busted lip, making sure to get the blood to stop flowing. I didn’t want it to bleed onto my pillow.
I’d have to clean it up later. It was a pain to get blood out of a pillow. I grabbed a clean shirt, slipping it on over my head and onto my body. I was now at least a little comfortable. I crawled into my bed, and snuggled into it, pulling my blanket over my body. I soon began to shake, as I began to cry again. I did this every night. I hated the fact that I cried over such little things such as this. I hated it! I didn’t hate my parents. I never could. They gave me life. They provide some things for me when I really just flat out need it. They are somewhat ok when sober. It was just when they were drunk (every night) was when It was just horrible. I felt the sobs rack my body as I held onto myself. I soon was just asleep. I cried myself to sleep like that, hoping for something good tomorrow. I fell asleep, my glasses on my bedside table.
Maybe tomorrow things would look up? May be? Probably not, but I still have hope. I woke the next morning to my mom yelling at my dad. I sighed and grabbed a shirt, boxers, jeans, a raggedy hoodie, and my glasses. I headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Turning to nozzle on the shower to make the warm water come from the shower head, I got in, stripping before of course. I winced a bit feeling the warm water hit my cold skin, as well as my wounds. I soon got out, drying off carefully so as to not hurt myself worse. After drying off, I got my clothes on. I dried my hair, straightening it afterwards.
I pulled my glasses on over my eyes and onto my face. I brushed my teeth. Heading back to my room after I was done, I put my dirty clothes in my hamper, as well as my towel. I got to my room, grabbing my backpack, and got my shoes ob before turning back around and heading out the door to go to school. I did all the cleaning, cooking, laundry and all the housework, as well as finish my homework and study. Scratch that, I don’t study. In all seriousness they wanted me in college a year ago, but I had to decline because my parents won’t pay for it, and I still hadn’t had enough saved up. I sighed, making my way to school. This was going to be a long day. It was Friday, but Friday’s were always the worst, because then I was itching to get home or something. I made it into the school building, words immediately being tossed and thrown at me. Mute fag, Fag, Dork, Ugly, Piece of Shit, Worthless, Useless, Etc. I’ve learned to ignore it.
I sighed. I deeply had a hatred for school and most of the people in it. They weren’t all nice people and such. Everyone thought they were oh so cool, when in fact they just made me hate them worse. It was hilarious how everyone tried to fit in. It sickened me to the core most of the time. People were no freaking petty. It was amusing as well as sickening, as I’ve said before. I can’t stand the people in Highschool.
They all just thought of how they looked and stuff like that. I mean, why the hell should all that matter!? It shouldn’t. I’m not going to voice my opinion aloud. I can’t. Or rather won’t. OH! You get what I mean hopefully. It was just pointless to counterattack with these people. It wouldn’t bring anything good. It would just be a large part of my time gone. I needed all the time I could get. It was helpful. I also needed to find a new job so I could save up for college. All the best colleges wanted me in their college. I usually just tried to make stuff and crap. I was really good with a computer though. I could, what people call hack, “hack” into a system, not with so much as ease as you’d think, but I could very well do it. I hate to think that I could do that, but the truth is the truth, and I’m not going to deny it. I might tell people I’m not that smart, but like I said, I won’t deny the truth, there would be no point in denying it.
Oops, the bell’s about to ring. I winced crying out softly, as someone shoved me into a locker. Goddamn that hurt! I gasped in pain. Breathing heavy, I made it to my locker. I got out all the necessary books for my first four classes before lunch. I closed my locker gently, not slamming it closed as most students seem to do. I don’t get that, but hey, I don’t get a lot of things really, so I suppose it’s alright. I noticed the new pieces of paper on my locker and sighed. Would this ever end!? I guess not. I ripped the pieces of paper off my locker, my slender hand getting all of them at once. Now, my locker was clean. Yay. I threw the papers away not wanting them near me. They had all types of mean words written on them. Some were rather vulgar, which I’m not going into detail on what they said. I then turned back around. I was only a junior in this school, amazingly. I didn’t want to skip grades like the school board and my teachers had wanted.
That would just give everyone more reason to hate me. I didn’t want that. The amount of bullying I got now was more than enough. I didn’t need anything. It would just be way more painful. My lip hurt from what had happened last night. I sighed, going into my first period classroom. I walked straight to the back, as I did as always. I hoped none of the popular kids, or the snot nosed people came back there with me. It only meant trouble though, because they blamed stuff on me that I hadn’t done. It was because I couldn’t talk that I couldn’t defend myself. Sighing, as someone made fun of me being mute, then made fun of me being gay. Yes, I’m gay, but I honestly don’t know what everyone’s problem with not just me but anyone being gay was. I liked being smart. I enjoyed liking boys as well. Why the hell was that such a problem!? They don’t start drama like girls do, that’s one reason why I like guys.
The other because I’m just attracted to them. I snapped out of my daze I was in, when I heard thunder. Shit, I was going to get wet on the way home. Crap. This sucked. I really needed a car or something. I winced feeling something bounce off the back of my head. Damn, that hurt. I just took what they did to me. I wasn’t going to stand up to them. Mostly because I wasn’t strong, nor did I have a lot of power to overpower them. It’d be a one sided battle, and they’d just keep torturing me. Probably worse though. There would be no point in me standing up to them. Sure, I could outsmart them, and it’d be one-sided, maybe in a verbal argument, but I’m mute. That wouldn’t work either. It was funny how much I couldn’t do to stand up for myself really.
I had no one as a friend either, so I just took it. I didn’t even know if I made a friend if they’d stand up for me. I wouldn’t want them to because I’d be afraid of the outcome, but yeah. Sighing once again, I laid my head on my desk. I pushed my glasses further up on my nose. I closed my eyes wondering when class would start. I hadn’t heard the teacher come in either. The rest of the class was being mildly loud. Usually they were much louder than this so it was odd how much quieter they were being today than yesterday. I shook it off. Five minutes passed of this and I was soon getting worried that something may of occurred in the school building. I just hoped it was nothing bad. I began to doze off sleepily. I was so tired. The beating had lasted until midnight last night. I awoke not wanting to be asleep near all these people. If I fell asleep then there was a change I might end up out the window.
I don’t want that to happen. It’s painful trying to get down. Not to mention everyone is either laughing or they don’t care enough to try and help. Still better than having everyone all once pushing you though. The teacher walked in. I sat up as she began to say something. Telling us we had a new student. I sighed as she started our lesson. Ten minutes later, a guy walked in. All I can say is, Damn. That boy is gorgeous. He had light blue hair with blonde highlighting it. Goddamn. When I looked up at him, we met eyes. I was surprised, and bit my lip, my lip piercing glinting in the light. My breath had been taken away. He smiled at me, at us, and said softly, “Hey, I’m Damian. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.” He gave a bright smile to us that just made me melt inside.