Silent Cries (Complete/Being Edited)

Chapter One - My Harsh Story.

I woke up today on a Friday with a deep and aching pain in my jaw. "Damn that bitch got me good." I mumble, looking at the wall across from my bed where a mirror lay propped up against the wall. It looks purple and swollen from where the bottle made contact. It sucks but at least this time it didn't cut me. I guess I'll just need to come up with a 'falling down excuse.'

My mother got pissed off at me for something, I have no idea what it was but at this point I don't care. It's always something with that woman. "Bryan! Get your ass over in the kitchen!" My mother barks, I don't bother replying, I walk out of my room with slumped shoulders, scooping up my backpack and throwing it over my shoulder and walking to the kitchen. My mother is sitting there with her feet propped up on the table, a beer in hand and a cigarette clenched between her lips. "Bit early to drinking now isn't it, ma?" I remark, earning a curled lipped frown of disgust from her. "Oh shut the hell up smart ass, and eat something." She growls, throwing a breakfast bar at my chest which I fumble to catch.

She smirks and slides a twenty across the counter. "I'll be working late tonight. You use that money and pick up a few things for us to eat." She finishes, nodding at the bill. I grab up the twenty and slip it into the pocket of my jeans. "Oh and be sure to do some laundry while I'm gone today." She says, nonchalantly gesturing to my black long sleeved hoody shirt and skinny black jeans that I had been wearing and slept in from yesterday. "Alright." I grunt, turning and heading out the front door to the bus stop.

I reach the stop sign and stand there, swaying from exhaustion and waiting for my friend Joan to get there. Joan and I have been friends since I moved into the crap heap that is my house when I was five. She lives right down the street a few houses down and has been like the annoying older sister I never got. She was one year older than me, sixteen to be exact. She has a short and curvy yet slim build and dark red hair with hazel eyes and a lightly freckled heart shaped face. I guess you could say she was pretty but I would never refer to her as that because she's like I said before, like a sister to me.

I catch sight of her walking down the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear when she catches sight of me. "Hey bro." She says cooly. "Hey brat." I snicker, earning a playful punch in my arm. It hardly would hurt if it were anywhere else but I can't help but wince. My mother had hit me with the beer bottle there the night before. Seeing my pain she gasps, here eyes widening, "I'm so sorry! When did she do that to you?!" She says with worry creasing her face.

She knows about how my mother would abuse me and the back ground of my childhood. She found out when I was twelve after she saw the gash that I had received when my mother jammed me with a broken beer bottle in a fit of drunken rage. After that I came clean about everything and made her swear to never say a thing to anyone and reluctantly, she swore to never breath a word to anyone. "Yeah, she did it last night but it's okay or it will be at least." I whisper, looking down at my shoes to hide a blush of embarrassment. She looks at me like I'm a kicked puppy, the way she always does when she hears of my abuse but holds her tongue and just shakes her head. "Were you planning on telling me about that anytime soon?" She whispers, her voice cracking like she's on the verge of crying.  "No." I reply quaintly, I hate making her so upset. "You really deserve so much better you know... I hate to see my little brother in pain." She says firmly, wiping her eyes with the back of her palm. "I know and I'm sorry sis. Nice outfit." I say teasingly, eagerly trying to change the subject. She's wearing blue skinny jeans and a red zipped up jacket with her hair in a bun. "Thanks jerk." She laughs, and I grin at the ease of tension.

Joan has been my only friend really, my awful anxiety and anger issues making me shut people out because it's too much stress. God knows I already have enough of that to deal with at home. She knows everything about me except for one thing. That thing is that I hurt myself. I started two years ago as a way to ease my pain and have told no one and kept my body hidden to hide the cuts and scars. If I ever told anyone then they would just do what people love to do. Judge.

The bus rumbles its way slowly up the street and stops to let us on. Joan gets on first and heads to the back and sits with her friends while I sit in the front, away from the fray of conversation taking place in the back of the bus. I sit alone in silence and no one bugs me. I keep to myself and have no real clique to call my own which suits me just fine. I sit back and place my backpack in my lap and unzip the smallest pocket and grasp my blade. It's small and rectangular and thick enough for an easy grasp. Just holding it gives me soothing feelings because I know that when I get to school I will go to the restroom and cut out my frustrations. With the blade clasped in my hand, I relax and look out the window to bare the wait to get to school.

Author's Note.

This is the first official chapter aside from the prologue. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

What all did you think of the current Bryan? What about his mother? She's got a bit of a vicious attitude to her doesn't she? Please leave a comment and or vote if you felt this chapter deserved it. I'm also going to take this as another opportunity to apologize for the quality (my other works are better I swear)!

Until next time.. Stay Strong.