Sinner

Gaige pov

Ever heard of the little boy who sits back and does nothing, while everyone else lives life to the fullest? His eyes never leaving the floor, his voice always coming out soft and meek, the sorrow always trying to escape his body only to fail? That'd be me. Shocking right? Gaige, the boy wanted by many girls, the one with the crowd of very good looking friends, and the loving family. You might not believe me, but it's all true, my life wasn't this good before. Let me start a few years back, when I was simply seven years old...

"Get this fucking kid out of my way!!" Exclaimed my drunk father, his beady little eyes full of hostility. My mother's arm wrapped around my shoulders soothingly, "Now, Gaige, honey... Please go to your room and watch a movie, okay?" She asked with a worried smile. I opened my mouth to say 'yes,' but nothing came out. Instead, I forced a nod and walked quietly to my room. My father's shouts followed me the whole way there, like a never ending song I was forced to listen to my whole life. He's an alcoholic whom has a problem admitting he's a drunk asshole. Day after day, he comes home drunk, beating my mother and throwing insults at both of us. He's used many names on me, fagot, bastard, worthless fuck, hideous child, little shit, you name it. Heard them all. I always asked my mom what they meant, but she would never tell me. She'd simply say that they were hurtful words I musn't use in my life. My mother was passive, she'd take his beatings, but if he ever lifted so much as a hand to me, she'd insult him. Leading him to beat her much worse, her eyes filling up to the brim with tears the whole time.Always taking the beating for me, always standing up to him when he calls me rude names. I loved her. I hated my father. I wish he'd just crawl into a bottomless pit and disappear forever.

During Christmastime my mom would take me to the mall to see some guy dressed up as Santa. I always asked for the same thing, "I want my dad to just leave my mother and I alone, so we can be happy. Just my mother and I, that's all." The guy would give me a sympathetic look then nod sadly, knowing all too well that my Christmas would be a disappointing one.

I had no friends growing up, I was always the loner kid. The one who had no one to love him, only my mother. When teachers would call me up to the front of the class to participate in an activity I would obey, but as soon as I returned to my seat I became a zombie again. It's depressing to see a seven year old kid be such a pessimist. I know this because every time an adult looked at me, I could feel the pity in their stare. Pity and sympathy, very common for me. I even pitied myself.

My dad grew worse over the years, he grew much more violent than ever before. My mother had been in the hospital seven times in one year. She never told anyone what was happening though, she always said that she was really clumsy and got injured quite easily. The doctors bought it, the nurse bought it, everyone did. Everyone but me, I knew the truth the whole time, but I never said anything. Due to my stupid mouth it turned my whole life around.

One Christmas night I was woken up from my somewhat deep sleep. Glass dishes and who knows what else was being thrown at walls, my mother and father were having another argument. I wanted to get out of bed and try to stop it, but I knew better. It would only make it worse, like always. My pillow was my shield, it blocked out the shouts and the loud noise, it made me feel a bit safe. My blue dinosaur was in my hands, he was my comfort toy. My mother had given him to me when I was four, she said that if I ever needed a friend, he would always be there for me. She didn't lie. He was always at my side, he made me feel less lonely, but deep inside I still felt that bit of pain clawing at my heart greedily.

I waited ten minutes before I removed the pillow from my head. The noise had stopped. Now, I don't know why I got out of bed, walked out of my room and into the kitchen, but I did and I grew silent and completed numb. My father stood over my mother's body, a blood soaked knife clutched in his hands, his expression was relaxed as he wiped the knife on his shirt. "What did you do to my mom?!" I cried out as I kneeled next to her limp body. "Quit your crying, kid. Clean up this shit and go to bed." He muttered in disgust before walking off.
Hot tears started running down my cheeks as I held my mom to my chest. "Mom, don't leave me. Don't leave me." I whimpered as I rocked back and forth with her in my arms.

Fifteen minutes later I shook myself out of my shocked state, only to call the cops. I watched quietly as they took my father away in the white car, the red and blue lights flashing the entire time. I saw them put my mother's body in a body bag and drive off with her in a black van. My face was pressed up to the window as I was being driven away in a beige car, the woman in the front telling me that I'd be safe and that everything would be okay. "No, it won't be okay. It never will." I whispered to myself as I held my blue dinosaur in my arms. I hated myself more. I was eleven.

I never talked again after that happened. An orphanage turned into my home for a year, then I got adopted by a man and a woman who were in their early twenties. They seemed nice, but I wanted my mom. Not them. They saw that I was depressed every day, that I didn't even talk. They got help. I saw a therapist for eight months straight, I started talking again.
They made me open up more, and I grew to like them. My dinosaur was at the corner of my bed, it was a piece of my mom, it kept me safe at night.

When I entered middle school I met Chase, he was the first one to talk to me from everyone else. He told me he liked my hair and my name, then he asked me if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. I said yes, and that's when I changed. Love was based on good looks, friends were based on good looks. It gave me the opportunity to be vain, arrogant, and rude. Girls drooled over me and I loved it. It gave me a sense of empowerment. I could break them, but they couldn't harm me. Want to know why I did it? So I could prove to my father that I was good enough, that I was better than him. His words still haunted me after all these years, but he couldn't use those on me anymore because I was wanted by everyone. They wouldn't even hurt me.

Chase, Anne, Nicole, Matt, Shaun, and James were like my second family. They helped me forget the past, they helped me be invincible.

Whenever I looked at my dinosaur I would frown slightly, my mother's voice would echo in my head. "What have you become, Gaige? What?" Was what she would probably say to me if she were today, but if she were today I wouldn't be this way. I hate myself, but then again I love what I am. I'm wanted and I love it.