“He's not strong enough."
They all said it. Family, friends, fans. No one gave me a second look. No one thought that I, eighteen and especially weak phsyicall, would have to deal with the shit I did, and still do.
No one ever looked at me and thought that I was brave enough to save my younger sister's life when I was seven. That I stepped in front of her and attempted to pry the knife out of my drunk father's hand. That I have a shallow scar along my collarbone.
No one ever looked at me, and saw the true reason I had an obsession with music. That it was very simply a safe zone. That I went and hid in that diverse world when I was threatened, hated, by my so-called "allies." That there are certain songs I hate, but love, because of what they're linked with, such as Staring Into The Sun by Lovehaus.
No one ever looked at me and thought me someone famous until the channel DeadloxMC. That I'd gain friends. That I'd be popular. That I'd ever succeed with any fame, with the exception of a cruel suicide. That I'd be loved by someone much, much more famous than I.
No one ever looked at me and thought I'd be important. that I'd be important. That I'd be vital to someone else's survival.
That I, the emotional fag, was tough enough to handle life's hardships by myself, hiding it.
"He's not strong enough."
What is life?
Eh, I felt like this had to be written.
See ya next chapter?
Bai!
YOU ARE READING
Take A Walk With Me (One-Shots and More)
RandomThis is a relic. I do not think that anything published in here reflects who I am today or how I currently write. I realize that I was cringey and not great, even though I thought I was fantastic. How this is #1 in anything, I do not understand. How...
