Mr. Pretty boy >> Skammy

Chapter 20

Woooooo we in the 20's now, first book I've EVER written with 20 chapters. Be proud.

Not edited
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Third Persons POV
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Sammy was laying in his bed, if you were to look at Sammy's current state, you wouldn't even really know it was him.

His hair was now bleached to a platinum blonde, silver like type color. His eyes were bloodshot, hair messy.

He had about 3 empty bottles of vodka laying around his bedroom, he still had silent tears rolling down his face. He had no idea what made him drink and why he was crying when he wasn't upset.

He felt numb. He felt numb all around.

His body was numb, heart was numb, everything.

He couldn't feel. And that's why he drank as much as he did, he didn't know the cause of him wanting to drink but he surely knows that whatever must've been bothering him is completely gone from his mind.

Sammy didn't consider himself an alcoholic, he did have his moments where he'd drink everyday but he stopped once he became a teacher.

Even for as young as he was, he was stressed to the max.

I mean how would you feel, at the age of 18 almost 19 years old, becoming a teacher, just dropping out of collage. He doesn't even know why he even landed a job like that,

He didn't go to a collage he wanted, his parents, shit his whole entire family, pestered him about going to some fancy collage he doesn't even know the name of.

It was stressful, being about fifteen going to collage, one to two hour classes, six classes each, he doesn't know what the fuck it was for exactly, not like he really cared, but whatever it was, was enough for that school to hire him as a teacher.

He didn't hate his job, but it was stressful, Sitting in a chair for seven hours, teaching noises, disrespectful, students. Then staying there for an extra two hours to grade work which eventually he'd take home and grade them.

He had plenty of stress enough, and now dealing with a student who he has strong feelings for is making his stress levels rise higher.

For an eighteen year old, he sure did handle his job, apartment (a/n haven written this for a while, sorry if I'm wrong) bills and etc.. Pretty well.

But he did have his moments where he'd drink to carry himself throughout the day.

Sammy never wants to admit it, but he has really bad depression and mood swings, his family says he is bipolar, and even if he is, he couldn't give shit.

Having a mental disorder was the least of Sammy's problems, obviously.

He was tired, and not the type that sleep can fix.

He wanted a break, from his job, people, everything and everyone.

Except for skate, and maybe even his friends.

Sammy was tired of being a responsible "adult", he was tired of doing things, studying things and just carrying out his life how his family wants.

Even when he isn't there, they still find some way to control him, and it irks him.

He didn't want to be some fucking Teacher at some school with so many annoying, bitchy, ungrateful, trashy students. He wanted to Be a student at some school with all those types of people.

He wanted to feel the freedom he believe he deserves, and if anything, he does deserve.

But he can't just break away from his responsibilities now, not after he has accomplished so much in such a small amount of time.

Sure freedom sounded relaxing int and great, but his family put so much onto Sammy, putting him on this pedestal he didn't want to be on.

He would rather people talk down to Sammy, tell him he won't accomplish anything, and do it to prove them wrong.

Than to be put onto high ass pedestal where he doesn't have a choice but to deal with the tasks so he won't be pestered everyday about it.

Sammy broke down.

Tears falling out his dull, lifeless eyes, his blood running cold.

He sat up quickly, and ran to his bathroom, all these thoughts making him feel sick to his stomach, well along with the three bottles of vodka he chugged down.

He sat his arms around the seat, tears silently falling out as he sits on his knees.

"What's wrong with me.." He whispered to himself, a small sob escaping his lips.

He was going to break down eventually, the amount of stress the weighed on Sammy's shoulders was unbelievable.

No eighteen year old should have to feel like this, no one should have too.

Sammy could hear his front door open, he didn't bother to ask who it was or to panic, he just stayed in his bathroom, his stomach twisting, he could feel to burn in his throat as he does round two.

He started to worry when he saw blood in the toilet water, that was filled of his vomit, that was strangely more liquid and clear.

He hadn't eaten much when skate was kidnapped, and when he got back he stopped eating all together, he'd feel sick to his stomach whenever he ate.

"Sammy a-are you okay?." A small voice asked from the doorway of his bathroom. He glances over to see a worried skate.

He had a bruise on his cheek and a few small cuts on his face, "no." Sammy croaked out.

First time Sammy ever admitted it, and it won't be his last time.

"I'm not..okay.." He whispers, a few tears slip from skates eyes as he looks down at the pale, intoxicated boy who was leaning over his toilet seat, not wanting to move just in case he had to throw up again.

"Oh Sammy." Skate mumbled, he opened a cabinet and saw washcloths, he grabs it and puts it under water for a quick second, twisting it so he could squeeze out extra water.

He leaned down and grabbed Sammy's face, wiping his face with it to help relax him. Sammy smiled, flushing the toilet.

He leaned back, his head leaning against his wall as his eyes flutter shut, he became tired.

Skate picked him up gently, walked him to him bed and set him down gently, Sammy mumbled a small 'Thank you' as he falls asleep. Skate smiles.

He walks to Sammy's bathroom and searches trough his cabinets. He finds a bottle of Advil, and other pills such as anti depressants that he rarely takes, some bipolar medication his cousin sent him, that he never took because he didn't believe he was bipolar, and a few other medications skate didn't bother looking at.

He grabbed one pill from his Advil, and walked to his kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, and set them on his bed side table.

He cleaned up most of the mess, and even left him a small note before pressing a soft kiss upon the boys forehead.

"Night Sammy." Skate whispered, he shut off most lights and walked out Sammy's apartment, closing the door.

He walks to Johnson's car, the he let him borrow, got in and drove away. A small smile of his face.

-

Sorry this is short, my back hurts, I'm tired and I keep feeling acid or whatever come up my throat.

Love you.

(No promo today,)

Words: 1240
Time finished: 4:48 Am