2: I'm Fūcking Worthless

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it will take some time before Oli is properly introduced. sorry. anyways... let me know what you think so far!

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Not much later that Sunday morning, I was woken up by hard knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, grabbing onto my head in pain. The noises drummed right through and created a horrible echo in my head.

"Are you awake, Kellin?" I heard my mother ask from the other side of the door.

"Don't bother." My father huffed. "He probably wasted his night partying again."

I rolled over and groaned. "What do you want?" I whined, wishing for them to just shut up and leave me alone already.

"Just letting you know that we're off to church." I rolled my eyes and covered my head with a pillow. My mom would do this every Sunday morning, hoping that someday for whatever reason I'd come out in a suit and tie, telling her that I had seen the light and wanted to join them. Hell as if that was ever going to happen.

I then rolled over again and checked the time. 9:30. I groaned at the clock, wanting to sleep more but knowing my headache wouldn't let me. Blindly I then opened the drawer of my nightstand and searched for the box of painkillers, stuffed somewhere between the rest of my medication.

Slowly I walked into the bathroom, downed two of those and turned on the shower. The hot water still made my skin burn. I slid down the wall of the shower and sat on the ground, letting the water just flow down my body for a while. And as the painkillers started to kick in, I was finally able to think straight again.

"What the fuck am I doing to myself?" I muttered as I buried my head into my knees.

I was at a point again that I told myself that today was the day that I'd quit. Today was the day I would never touch drugs or alcohol ever again. And at the time, it all seemed pretty convincing... until the day progressed.

A few hours passed by as I slowly started feeling sick. The headaches came back and the painkillers wouldn't do their job anymore. I became sweaty and anxious. I downed countless glasses of water, trying to fight the dryness in my throat, but nothing really helped.

More hours passed by and I became paranoid and depressed. I sat in my room and just cried. I didn't even really know why. Anxiously I crawled to my nightstand, searching for my anti-depressants and anxiety medication. I sat back against the bed and popped the cap of the bottle, not even being able to see anymore where the cap flew off to. My hands were shaky and my vision was blurry. Slowly I took a deep breath and downed a few pills, I didn't even really care how many as long as they did the trick.

I put my head back onto the bed and breathed in and out slowly, waiting for the Xanax to kick in. As I waited, I just started to feel more miserable. I cried and punched the floor, asking myself why... why had I made such a mess of myself?

"Kellin, honey? Can you come help me with dinner?" I then heard my mom ask me from the other side of my bedroom door.

I rubbed my temples in pain and tried to get up on my feet, forcefully drying my tears. "Sure mom, I'll be right out." I told her, my voice cracking at every word. I didn't feel up to it, but I had to do it. I had to change. I had to become the son that they wished I were. And helping my mom with dinner wasn't much, but it was a start.

I took another few deep breaths, threw on a hoodie to try and get rid of the cold shivers that I was feeling, and headed out of my bedroom.

"Oh gosh honey, are you feeling sick again?" My mom then asked me as I walked into the kitchen.

I shook my head. "I'm fine." I quickly lied as I faked a smile. I felt absolutely awful, but she didn't have to know that. Especially not why.

My dad then grabbed me by the arm and swung me around to face him. With a stern look on his face, he inspected every inch of mine. His eyes grew darker as he looked at me. "You've been doing drugs again, haven't you?" He spat.

"N-No." I stuttered as I looked away, trying to avoid his gaze. I imagined my pupils to still be quite dilated from the night before, which would only confirm that I had.

He then grabbed my chin with his other hand and made me look at him anyway. "You disgust me, Kellin. You are a shame to this family. You're even worse than your sister." He spat angrily.

I felt my heart beating like crazy in my throat as I closed my eyes and prepared for what was about to come next. I waited for a few seconds, and then there it was; a hard slap across my cheek. The impact harder than usual, leaving behind a burning sting on my face. Tears started to fall as I felt another hard slap crossing my face from the other side.

"You're fucking worthless. Now go to your room!" My father yelled right into my face.

Without looking anywhere else, I immediately ran back into my room and smashed the door closed behind me. I dropped to my knees in front of my bed and tried to calm down my breathing as I felt a panic attack coming up. My father always managed to spike up panic attacks. He knew exactly which buttons to push and how to make me feel absolutely miserable.

Back in high school, whenever I got a panic attack, my best friend Vic would be around to help me calm down. 'Breathe, Kells, just breathe slowly,' He would calmly tell me as he'd rub my back and hum one of his songs. But he wasn't around now.

More tears burst from my eyes as I grabbed my phone and dialed Matty's number. The panic attack was rising and I felt like I couldn't breathe. "Please pick up." I cried into my phone.

"The number you are trying to reach is not available. Try again later." The operator said. I cried out and threw my phone aside as I tried to sit back against the bed.

I hated my father... I hated my life... I hated myself... sometimes I wished it would all just end.

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