You Still Have All of My Heart

That scar on his chest is all my fault. I have caused that broken, fragile boy so much pain and even though he tries to convince me otherwise I know it isn't true. I have hurt him. I have hurt this boy really badly. And I will do it all again. There is no way to stop me from hurting him unless I completely remove myself from his life. But I know I can't – there is no way I can move schools already because I have only been there a matter of days – plus nowhere would actually be willing to take on a drop out like me - , I guess I will just have to do the best I can in a tricky situation and ignore him. There is no other way than to make this mistake, really.

I can remember that day as though it was only yesterday, and although some of my memory has blanks in it I can still work the rest out. I have no idea what caused me to flip out and freak like that, but all I know is that I wasn't me. Something else took over and was set out on hurting anyone it saw as a threat. That thing takes over every now and again, and it's clear it doesn't like Vic one bit. My guess is that it doesn't like Vic having control over me. And, although he isn't the controlling type, the fact that I love him so much that he fills my thoughts and I would do anything possible to make his day even remotely better shows that he does have some control over me. Even if it is in a good way. Part of me wants to reach out to anyone and ask them what the hell is going on inside of my head, but I know it would only gain me weird looks if they knew that somehow someone else manages to take over my mind a body for a while, leaving me by the side to watch how it attacks anything I ever loved. Sometimes I even go far enough to give the other thing a name; Ben, I call it.

My feet keep moving. With no recollection of thoughts about my whereabouts I carried on. It didn't matter where I went, just as long as I stayed away from Vic. But the night was slowly falling around me, and the cold air was starting to chill me to my bones. I need to find a place to set up camp, but I realise that there will probably be nowhere around here that would be sheltered. Fuck it. Why the fuck do I even care anymore? If I can hurt someone like that then maybe I deserve to be punished! He was once so perfect, but then I came along and destroyed any chance he had of having a good future. Well maybe now I can put things right for once. His life would be so much easier if I had nothing to do with it because all I do is cause him pain – the best way to remove that pain from him would be to just remove myself from him. Just go straight to the root cause of pain and remove it before it infect anything else. All i have to do is pierce the veil of the situation and stop all of this bull shit.

When I find a safer place to sleep (A bench slightly sheltered by a tree) I lower myself onto the bench. My thoughts are still waving in every which way, but due to my lack of sleep from the past few days I close my eyes willing for sleep to wash over. But it doesn't. Instead it leaves me pondering the events of the day. First off, Vic's beautiful face has been well and truly fucked up by his parents, and although he will always be fucking gorgeous to me, I am furious towards them for hurting such an innocent boy who deserves none of their shit. None of it. There is not a fucking cell in his body that should be hurt – especially when I am the one who caused it; not even him! But then I saw how fucked up I had made him as well and I realised that I am no better than his parents. In fact, I am worse than them because at least we all know that they couldn't give a fuck about him and therefore it's slightly better. But I do, I love that little Mexican boy with all of my heart so I have no fucking right to ever have laid a hand upon.

Then again, I didn't exactly lay a hand on him last time, did I? No, of course not. Not that it makes it any better though, because it might not have been a hand I laid on him, but it was a knife.

It takes a while for my body to accept that this is where I am going to sleep and that I should hopefully be relatively safe – well, as safe as you can be whilst living on the streets – but when it does my eyes fall heavy. And with one last imagine floating through my head I fall into the unconsciousness that I've been longing for, hoping to wash away all of my memories about that boy who wears his slim tops showing off his lean but muscular arms, and lives in either skinny jeans or fucking long shorts. Maybe my mind will just wipe out the memories of me ever looking into those deep brown eyes of his, and the feelings of letting everyone down might just melt away.

Sadly, however, when I open my eyes again I realise that the sun has come up and the thoughts of Vic are still present. In fact, they are even stronger than before, and now I realise just how perfect he is to me. No matter how many times he has been beaten up I will still love him, but that's exactly why I must control myself and prevent whatever it is that we hold from growing even more. Sure, I love him and want him more than air or life itself for that matter, but I don't think I am good for him so there is no way I can allow myself to corrupt him. Not again. A slightly crazed laugh escapes my lips as I remind myself of what a bitch I can be. But, in all honesty, the bitch of it all is that I'm running from the desire of the people to whom I belong. I know Vic loves me, I can see it in his eyes, but I just can't be with him again.

Judging by the way the sun is up, there is no doubt in my mind that school has already long started. Cool, it'll be easier to avoid that beautiful boy if I'm not in there today. I'll be in on Monday, I tell myself, almost as if I am trying to convince myself that school is something that I actually need to attend if I want to make a new life for myself. But, what can I say? Old habits die hard. I pick myself up off the bench and walk off in a direction I vaguely guess will bring me back to town.

After what feels like a couple hours, and about 10 moments of getting lost and going back on myself, I finally reach the street I have been absently ambling towards. My pace picks up a bit to match the rate of my heart. Why the fuck have I come here? But I know perfectly well why I came here. This place holds things I need, and I know that no one will be in here at the this hour, so I walk up to the door, a small smile of amusement lightens my face to see that although the door has been locked he has kindly left my key outside in it's traditional hiding place for me to enter whenever the hell I want. Even though he is a monster, he is also a fucking gentleman, that boy. Maybe that's why I fell for his lies, all that time back. Maybe that's why I feel safe with them again. Either way, it doesn't matter because I walk into the house, awarding myself a mental pat on the back to see that the house in indeed empty, just like I had predicted.

The room (Because I doubt you can actually call this little apartment a house) smelled just like I remembered; a mixture of sweaty teenage boys, and sex. Oh, and the helping of violence and alcohol thrown in for good measure. To put it this way; the building wasn't exactly the best smelling place I could be in right now, but then I guess there isn't really any other place I could be right now. My eyes scanned the room quickly to see if he had moved anything, but it is to my great relief that he hasn't. Good, Josh, it's about time you made something easy for me. With a smile on my face, and my heart beating in overtime I quickly salvaged anything I needed (like a couple fresh changes of clothes and some money, not to mention my phone,) which I hastily stuffed into a rucksack I found lying around. With all of that done, there is only one thing left for me to find. Drugs. I know I told myself that I wouldn't do anymore because of Vic, but if I'm not a part of his life anymore he won't have to know that I am using again.

I slide a packet of drugs in my pocket, smiling to myself about how easy this has been. I was expecting something much worse than this, if I am honest with myself, so I dash into the bathroom and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. I's such a ridiculous thing for me to grab, but a necessity for looking good. Ha, I don't even have anyone to look good for, and yet here I am. Thinking about what I can do to make myself attractive. Maybe fucking someone else would help me get over my mixed up feelings, but I don't even know any gay people. Maybe it's best not to out myself in my new school just yet anyway.
“Well well well...” I hear a voice call from behind me and I freeze. Fuck, I did not expect him to be here. “I knew you would come back to me, baby,”
“Josh, I'm not coming back. I came to get my stuff.” My teeth gritted, I turn to leave, only to find that he is standing in the way. Of course he is.
“No, Kellin, some bitch took you from me the other night; I am not letting you go again!” He lunged forwrd, attempting to grab my arm, but I dodge. Taking this at my time to leave the bathroom.
“Just stop. Okay? Just stop it, Josh, we're over.” I say.
He didn't try to stop me this time, he simply looked deflated. As though I had just stabbed the balloon that counted for our messed up kind of relationship. “D-don't leave me, Kellin.” But I refuse to fall for his guilt tricks. I keep on walking for the door.When he notices that I am never coming back he runs after me, “You'll never be able to stay away from me though! Without me you are homeless! Without me are and have nothing. You hear me? You fucking hear me?” but I don't stay around to hear anymore of his shit. Instead I start walking again; quick, long strides to push me as far away as I can get in a short amount of time. There is no way I am ever going back to him.

But I don't care where the hell I go. Nothing matters to me anymore, and why should it? If I have ruined the lives of so many innocent people there is no way in hell I should allow myself to even care about myself. I mean, come on, even my parents couldn't put up with me and my fucking tricks. And who would blame them? When they set out to have a child they didn't set out to have a fucking homosexual kid that shoves everything in their face. Okay, so I admit, they weren't the best of parents but they never deserved the shit I put them through. I mean, just imagine the shame my family must have faced when people heard of what I have done. When they set out to raise a child they never expected to be the parents of a spawn from Satan, who would only serve challenge after challenge for them to deal with. Whether it be sexuality, grades at school, behaviour, drugs, putting myself in bad situations, and hurting anyone who I could ever care about... yep, I can see why they gave up on me. They are only human after all, and they can only put up with so much before their patience must inevitably run out.

It's only when I see the bench I slept on last night do I stop, my heart beating in my throat from excited nerves. I don't really like doing drugs in public in case I get caught and into trouble, but that part of risk makes it ever more attractive. I know no one could care about me enough to stop me, and anyone who would care I would only shut out of my life anyway before that thing – Ben – does it for me. Without even giving a fuck anymore I open up the little bag, forming small white lines on the arm of the bench. Fulfilling my usual ritual of finding a leaf to help me and cutting it down so that the drugs will last a bit longer but still hold the desired effects, I breathe in my temporary heaven and leave the rest of the world down below me. They don't need to know about a thing.