Boys Don't Cry

Chapter 33

As I scream in pain, A warm, metallic taste forms in my mouth, A blow to the stomach causes me to wince in pain, I attempt to shout for help, although my voice is nowhere to be found, opening my mouth only causes more blood to gather, and my hands fly down to my stomach, forming a protective barrier. My trousers are pulled off and I scream as another pain hits my face, I know what's about to happen, I try to shout for help. Using every last bit of energy, I scream, although I don't call for my mother this time, I call for someone who might actually come.

My eyes spring open as I jolt forward, my eyes meet with my fathers, who looks sympathetic. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and let out a sigh of relief.

He came.

I blink myself awake, half blinded by the light, and look at my father, who is crouched at the side of my bed.

"You came." I whisper, shocked that someone had actually come.

"Of course I did, I always will." He replies, making it sound like it was obvious that he would.

"I'm sorry." I mutter, ashamed that I'd woken him up.

"Don't you dare apologise. Ok?" He tells me. "This isn't your fault. You've not got anything to be sorry for." He's stays with me for five more minutes, which I spend reassuring him that I'm ok. After my father switches the light off, I roll over and attempt to sleep once more. Not only did he come, but he made it before the dream reached the worst part.

A warm wet sensation spreads across my face, waking me. My sleepy eyes meet with Oscar, who has backed off from licking me. Pushing him back, and getting out of bed, I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. A familiar feeling washes over me, and I react, I pick up a razor, and shave the minimal facial hair I have, afterwards, I take it to my arms, creating thin, but deep wounds, across my forearm I stand for a few more minutes, watching blood crawl over my arm and into the sink, then I wipe it all away, composing myself. After I'm washed and dressed I make my way downstairs, meeting my Father and Amelia in the kitchen, my hand reaches for an apple, and I make an excuse about getting my things. I run upstairs, and back in to my bathroom, where I kneel in front of the toilet. Pressing my teeth in to the apple and tearing chunks from it, I spit it in to the toilet bowl, flushing it once I'd spat out at least five or six, large pieces. Walking over to my hidden place, I take out an ecstasy pill and a Valium pill, hoping they'd get me through the day. Grabbing my backpack and jacket, I rush back downstairs, pretending I'd almost finished the apple - luckily they believe me.

It's not long before my dad pulls up in the car park, lifting my backpack, I turn to get out.

"Are we gonna have a good day today?" My dad asks, suggesting I'll work harder.

"I don't know." I say, honestly. I climb out before he has a chance to say anything else and walk through the entrance, which has already been opened. As I walk in to the classroom, and straight to my seat, I notice that my work has already been placed down. The Valium I've taken is starting to take affect. Although, I'm not as affected as usual, probably due to the tolerance I've built up over the weekend. I slouch forward and put my head on the desk, not even attempting the work. However, a quick, hard, nudge soon sends me sitting up straight, my eyes fall on Lauren, who is responsible.

"What the fuck was that for!?" I shout, irritated. She looks at me shocked.

"Sit up and do some work, please." She orders. Ignoring her, I slouch forward again, with my head sitting on the table like before.

"Michael, what is wrong with you today?" She asks, sounding a bit annoyed. Looking at Lauren, who has now crouched down beside me, I get even more irritated.