Status: work in progress

I Don't Want to Live in the Modern World

Ben

When I was 9, I was overweight. All of the other kids called me fat everyday. I didn't blame them, they were right. But I had one person who was nice to me, my only friend. His name was Ben. He was sickly thin and tne palest person I've ever seen. His dad hit him a lot and he came to school with bruises sometimes. He never talked about his mom, sne might have been dead but I didn't bring it up. Ben and I told everything to each other. One day, in the spring when it was warm, Ben was wearing a sweatshirt. I asked him why he was wearing that and he pulled up his sleeve. His arm was covered in cuts and they were everywhere. I then asked if his dad did that and he said no, he did it himself. He said it made him feel better, it comforted him. That night at home, I thought about all of the bad things people had called me. I took the blades out of my dads razor and started making cuts on my stomach instead of my wrist, because I hated my stomach. And Ben was right, it did make me feel better. It made me forget. I did it more and more often as the days went on. A few weeks later, Ben wasn't at school. I found out later that his dad beat him so bad that Ben went into a coma. He was only in the coma a few days before he died. I started cutting more and more. Ben didn't deserve to die like that. I wished and wished that I could do something, but at 9 years old, you can't do much.
I also now had to face the bullies alone at school. I stopped eating and when I did eat, I couldn't keep it down. Soon I lost a lot of weight and the kids at school stopped calling me fat. Eventually I could eat in small amounts and I got a little less sad. I still cut my stomach though, but not as much.
Ever since, I was scared to make any more friends because what if something happened to them? I would be all alone again. Becoming friends with Billie, Mike, and Jimmy made me nervous. At any moment Billie's step dad could hit him too hard and he would die. But I told myself that wouldn't happen. That I was just being paranoid. But I did know one thing. The next time a friend of mine died, I was going to lose it.

"Are you ok?"
I snapped back to reality. My hands were shaking and Billie was looking at me worriedly. "Yeah I'm fine. It's just so hot here and I got shaky."
Billie's expression lightened, but still had some concern on it. "Oh, well I know a place where it's nice and breezy and not too hot." Billie said. "Do you want to go there?"
"Yeah, that sounds really nice."
We headed outnof the music store and down the sidewalk again. "So where are we going now?" I asked Billie.
"The dock by the bay. It's really peaceful."
And sure enough, minutes later we were walking on a large dock with no one around. Billie sat down with his feet dangling a few feet above the water. I sat down next to him. The afternoon sun was beating on our backs in just the right amount and the water made small wave sounds. Billie was right, this was peaceful. "So," he said, "tell me about the future."
"It's not nearly as nice as it is here." I said.
I didn't want to tell Billie that I didn't feel comfortable being here because I wasn't different. It would've sounded stupid. I mean, I did love it here, but it wasn't the same. "Why? What's wrong with it?" He asked.
"No one is accepting like people are here and all of the popular musicians use a shit load of auto tune."
Billie turned and looked at me questioningly. "What's auto tune?" He asked.
I chuckled lightly and said, "When they add a bunch of stuff to make them sound better, but fake."
Billie started laughing. "Losers." He muttered.
I started laughing along with him. "Well the future must not be too bad." He said.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're from there."
He looked at me and slowly started to lean in. I knew what he was doing and the voice at the back of my head told me to pull away and run. I can't get attached. But I couldn't deny self happiness and Billie's lips touched mine in a soft kiss.