The Party Scene

It was the second time this week that Zack and I had almost been caught smoking. If my father caught us, we'd both be dead. I knew my dad hated Zack, but in all honesty, who didn't my dad hate? He was a drunken bastard who took everything out on those around him. He wasn't always like that though.
BTD (Before Tom's death), my dad was one of the happiest people I knew. He would take us on vacations all over the U.S., made sure all our needs were beyond fulfilled, and always put us first.
Tom was the light of his life. They did absolutely everything together. They went on monthly fishing trips, they built the shed in our backyard, he even taught Tom how to drive.
But, when Tom turned 16, he started hanging out at home less and less. He got into the wrong crowd, and started doing all sorts of drugs. He became violent and depressed, and almost never spent any time at home.
I guess we didn't realize how bad it had gotten until it was too late. I remember the day I found his body. I'll never get the image of his lifeless body out of my mind.
I was 13 years old at the time, Tom was 17. I'd just came home from school, and I had soccer practice at 4:00. While I was getting changed heard a noise coming from Tom's room, and I decided to see if he was home. I opened his bedroom door to find that he hung himself.
PTD (Post Tom's death), my dad didn't come out of his room for months. He just stayed in bed, drinking away his sadness. My mom tried to numb her pain through pills, and I started smoking pot. We all became addicted to something that would take away the pain.
We don't ever talk about Tom. My father refuses to discuss him, and if Tom is brought up in a conversation, he completely loses his shit. The last time my mother mentioned Tom, she ended up with a broken nose. So instead of remembering all the good times we had, we act like he was never even there.

I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and I realized my dad was home. "Fuck!" I whispered under my breath as I quickly put out my cigarette. I quickly ran around to the front of my house, and from there I proceeded to hide behind a bush. He got out of the car, muttering to himself as he carried a six pack of beer inside.
Once he was in the house, I made my way over to the porch steps. I try to stay out of his way as much as I can, because I know what he is capable of.
All of the sudden a door opened and I turned around to see the new kid leaving Rian's house. I looked the kid up and down, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a blink 182 shirt and skinny jeans, and his arms were covered in various bracelets. Well, he obviously had a good taste in music. Not that I'd ever tell anyone that I listened to that kind of music, I had a reputation to keep up.
He was rather lanky, and his hair was midnight black all except for a large blonde streak in the front. I'd given him the nickname Skunk hair, except when I was around my friends, then he was faggot. He was obviously gay, and I was obviously going to bully him. That's just how life goes.
As he was walking down the driveway, he glanced over at me. I glared at him, daring him to say something to me, which is exactly what he did. "Do you have a problem?" He asked, stopping dead in his tracks. "I don't like fags, sorry" I retorted, and before he could respond I got up and went inside. Once inside, I headed upstairs as fast as I could. But, it wasn't fast enough. "Get the fuck down here boy!" My dad hollered, his voice filled with drunken rage. I took a deep breath and slowly made my way downstairs. He was laying on the couch, downing his third bottle of alcohol. "Yes?" I asked, walking over to him. "You need to make me dinner" He replied, his words slurred together. "You have two legs, why can't you make it yourself?" I questioned, regretting it as soon as I said it.
In a matter of seconds he was off the couch and in front of me. He grabbed the collar of my shirt, and pulled my face so close to his that I could smell the tequila on his breath. "What the fuck did you just say to me boy?" He growled, his hot breath hitting me in the face. "What do you want for dinner" I muttered, giving in to him. "I don't care just make some food" He hissed, letting go of my shirt. I sighed and headed towards the kitchen.

After I made my father some tomato soup, I head upstairs to take a shower and smoke some pot. I just told my dad I was showering and going to bed, it's not like he even cared. My mom worked until 10:00 pm every night except fridays in order to support us, considering my dad didn't have a job. So basically I was allowed to do whatever the hell I wanted until 10:00. My dad didn't pay one bit of attention to me unless he needed something from me. He hadn't even noticed that I hadn't eaten in the past 2 days. Not that I minded, it just made losing weight all the more easier for me.
The only person who had taken any notice of the fact I didn't eat was Zack. I used to weigh 175, a normal weight for a person of my age, but I was now down to 160. Zack began to notice when I stopped bringing lunch to school, and he started to ask about it. I just told him I ate a lot when I got home to get him off my back. He never asked about it again, but I knew he didn't believe me.
My mom would probably have noticed by now if she was home more often. On the weekends I eat in front of her, then I lie and say I'm taking a shower when really I'm purging.
I turned on Fall Out Boy's album, From Under The Cork Tree, and stepped into the shower. I turned up the water as hot as it could then I started to think.
Why did my life turn out like this? I was a 16 year old freak who never ate had an alcoholic for a father and a mother who was never there.
I was failing school, my only real friend was Zack, and even he didn't know half the shit that was wrong with me.
I looked down at the crosses and other various symbols burned into my skin, then I slowly sunk to the floor and began to sob.