Broken

Chapter One

blake's POV

I woke up Monday morning about twenty minutes after my alarm went off and shrugged to myself before slowly getting out of bed and sulking over to my closet. I was typically late to school, no one really noticed, and over time I stopped caring. I was surprised I still even went to school honesty, probably only because it was the law and if my parents didn't force me to the government would. I sighed loudly and pulled out some clothes from my closet throwing them onto my bed. I sat back down and kicked my pajama shorts off watching them hit the wooden floor across my room before I grabbed my old, faded pair of skinny jeans and slid them onto my legs. I hooked my fingers under the hem of my tank top and brought it over my head throwing it in the general direction of where my shorts landed. I picked up my black t shirt and put my arms into the arm holes bringing the rest of the shirt over my head and smoothing it down once it was on. I walked over to my dresser and grabbed a couple socks, that didn't match but it didn't really matter, and pulled those onto my feet before grabbing my three year old black vans and putting them on and lacing them up. I looked at my reflection in the mirror connected to my dresser with a blank expression. I didn't look absolutely horrible exactly, but the sight I was staring back at definitely wasn't pretty. I haven't gotten new clothes in quite a long time, so I make do with the few articles I do own. If I bring it up to either of my parents they just use the new information I give them to throw at and attack the other verbally with. I don't think I've actually had a conversation without any yelling being the result as long as I can remember. I could get a job, and one day I might, but I didn't really have any motivation to. Why would a sad, little depressed girl need to care about how others perceived her when she didn't even perceive herself that highly? I took one last look at my overall appearance before grabbing my phone, which was surprising pretty new due to a fight my parents got in that resulted in my dad buying me an iPhone 6 to make a point, and left the house. By the time I got to school I had missed 1st period so I just stopped in my tracks and turned around making my way to 2nd just as the bell rang and everyone was released from their classes, filling the halls with loud, chaotic teenagers instantly. I didn't really have that many friends at school or general to be honest, only a couple acquaintances or some people I could make chit chat in class or sit by during lunch but nothing else, so I spent most of my time in school trying to completely immerse myself in my school work and usually tune everyone out by plugging in my headphones to my phone and drowning out the noise with music. Today was no different and before I knew it the final bell was ringing and everyone started furiously packing up, the sounds of shuffling papers and backpack zippers being unzipped and zipped back up filling the classroom. I quietly stuffed all my papers into my bag and slung the strap over my shoulder before leaving the room and entering the hot, sticky atmosphere of early September in the quad. I had an old, rusty pick up truck I drove around usually, but I didn't live too far from school so today I walked. I didn't want to head home right away, for obvious reasons, so instead of turning left at the intersection I approached I went right. I stuffed my hands into my jean pockets and walked down the sidewalk, silently observing all that was going on around me which I tended to do often. Every now and then cars would drive by me and people would walk by me on the sidewalk, sometimes women with their small children or just a couple teenagers it all depended, and some would give me strange looks, but I ignored them. I wasn't even doing anything that odd, maybe it was all just in my head, but I brought my gaze down to the sidewalk in front of me looking at my feet as they walked and the space in front of me making sure I didn't run into anyone. After a little bit I arrived at the neighborhood park. I usually came here to clear my mind and thoughts. It was usually quite peaceful, since not a lot of kids came here anymore after those reports about teenagers smoking pot over in the field behind the playground and the drug deals that go down here at night sometimes. None of that really bothered me, though. I had seen the kids smoking pot once and went over to talk to them. After politely declining joining them I talked to them a while and found out they were actually pretty cool. And the drug deals rarely happen in this area, I'm pretty sure only twice. That one time someone reported it and the other time was one night while I was mindlessly on the swing kicking my feet half halfheartedly slightly swinging back and forth causing the old swing set to make a creaking noise as I went back and forth. It was also just some teenagers and after they exchanged the money and drugs they were gone. It seems like people get so afraid of even just the littlest things and most of the time I can't wrap my brain around the reason why. I wasn't afraid of really anything that would be considered normal and accepted phobias. My fears went deeper than just the surface. I feared what the greater purpose of everything was, like why am I here and what was I put here to do. I feared that I wasn't living up to that great purpose or potential and I was disappointing not only myself, but everyone around me. I feared the inevitability of death and what came after and how no one knows this besides the already dead. I think my biggest fear, however would be the one that really gets to me most of the time in the worst way possible and picks at every single one my insecurities and flaws. It makes me question every aspect about myself and which one of them might be wrong in some sort of way. It just gets worse due to the actions of my parents and their shitty ways of treating me all the time and it causes me to even blame myself for that. I think what I fear the most in this world, beyond anything else I could imagine, would have to be the empty feeling and dark thought of loneliness and not finding someone to want to even be around with me at all in my lifetime. When you're forced to be alone it's just you and your thoughts and there's nothing you can do about it. And if you can't help it, those thoughts will drag you down and eat you alive until you're just a shell of a person you used to be.