Pretty Boy

How Long Will It Be Cute, All This Crying In My Room?

Serge:

The bullying didn't stop. In fact, it's only gotten worse. There are days when all I hear is their laughter booming in my face and their voices crippling my head. How they look at us with grins spread across their faces while whispering things behind closed doors. The way when they passed us, all they show me is the memory of that night and how naive I was to fall into their trap. Gossips spread, but if you're the only topic for a few days, you'll find it difficult to deal with everything.

I couldn't blame anyone because I know it's my fault for not saying anything earlier. I should've known that their kindness would lead to something more traumatic than fake smiles. I can only laugh at how messed up it all is, even though my heart aches to lean on its weakness again.

It leads me all the way back to how hard it was to go to school back then when I was all alone. The weeks of me trying to get away from the nightmare of how cruel others can be and how they always end up following me into my consciousness. The words they've said push me to an insecurity I never even wished to have. I could be perfect, but still, there will always be a flaw that will be exposed over time.

It's all the same as last year. The year I was outed and the year that my dad died, though only one thing came out to be good from those two. I thought it'd be better for me to feel lighter for the man. I've wished hell with my life to just die. The memories I have with him are the only memories that I knew would stay with me my whole life. It wasn't enough that my mom kicked him out when I was thirteen due to infidelity since the damage had been done. The nights when he'd pull me out of my room into theirs had me sobbing, hoping it would stop.

Last year was also the year when I started cutting myself. The bullying was worse back then. However, it was still the same hurt that pierces through me now. I'd stay in my room all day, hoping all of it would stop and praying that I could just not feel anything at all. I'd push anyone near me away because I couldn't bear seeing them feel sorry for what I was going through at the time, if anyone was even concerned about how I was feeling. I'd stay up all night and overthink to try and cope with it all and cry myself to sleep. Hogan wasn't in the picture since that was the time when Bre and him got together.

They were all over each other every minute of the day. They were the hot couple. The ones the school used to talk about all the time. Meanwhile, I was right behind them, looking and begging for the attention he used to give me, but all I could get then was a hi whenever we passed each other.

"Fuck."

I groan once my phone alarm rings.

I didn't sleep last night again, though I doubt if I even can. It's already been a week since the party, and it's also been a week of me just trying to push myself to sleep, yet my mind wouldn't let my body. But even with all the bullying, I still wouldn't let myself stay home and skip school. I know how my mom will talk to me about it given my depressive state, and I don't ever want her to raise suspicion again as to what's going on with me. I'll just try to stay away from it for a couple more days and wait for the gossip to die out.

My feet walk themselves to the shower to quickly rinse off my body, but when I step into the bath, my skin immediately melts from its coldness and I fall to the floor while a torrent of crestfallen water draws into me. My hands wrap around my knees and my head jerks back while tears stream down my cheek.

I like acting like an overdramatic person whenever I get in the shower since it's still the only place where I can express my emotions properly. My tears collide with every drop of water that pours down on me, streaming away my hurt with it. I'm numb and I'm exhausted. All I want to feel content, yet all I ever do is cry. I know how weak I've become and how tired I am of myself, but that's all I can ever see because I'm too afraid of what comes with me.