Lost In Mirrors (Jeff The Killer Love Story)(boyxboy)

Jace's POV-

I knew it. I finally knew what was to become of me. I was going to be shipped of to some prissy ass all-boys school the day before my birthday. My damn parents couldn't handle my 'aggressive nature' and 'psychotic mood swings' and my 'disrespect for the rules'. What the fuck makes them think i'll listen to some old hag of a teacher at a private school!?

I could barely hear Amelia my so-called 'mother' yelling at me about coming in late. And so here i am, slumped on the couch with just my boxers at two in the morning. What? i didn't whore myself around all night. There was a huge ass storm when i decided to run home. There was a loud crash that pulled me from my thoughts.

"THATS IT!" Mother yelled, balling her fists and glaring at me full of hate. there was practically steam coming out of her wretched face. I look down at my chest, finding pieces of broken china all over me, chips of it falling from my raven hair. "IS THAT WHAT IT TAKES TO GET YOUR ATTENTION?! I'M SO GLAD YOU'LL BE GONE IN TWO DAYS!!! YOU'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT TROUBLE TO ME AND YOUR FATHER!!!"

My odd blue eyes snap up to meet her green ones, hers flashing with a bit of fear. "That-That bastard is nothing like a father. WHO DO YOU THINK MADE ME HATE YOU SO MUCH?!" It was true. All Mike ever did was beat my ass ever since he decided to hook up with my sad excuse of a mother. Especially, after finding out that i was gay. I remember, actually stitching up bloody and putrid gashes with thread and a dull, rusty needle all because my mom didn't want to take me to the hospital. She would rather that ass hole stay out of prison and me sweat with fever and infection in my room for a whole damn month! I was just sitting in a pile of crumpled paper and starving the entire time. Not even once did she check on me. Amelia was too busy fucking Mike. The old me died a looong time ago. And now that i'm sixteen, i couldn't give a rat's ass about what happened to those twisted fucks. They make me out to be the bad guy, WHEN I'M THE ONLY ONE WITH A JOB! Of course, they don't know about that......but i'm always at work, trying to scrape up enough money to get the hell out of this dump or sitting the forest near the edge of the city, praying that some bloody animal or creature would just take me. But....that never happened or else i wouldn't be here right now!

Again, i was brought out of my thoughts when Mike back-handed me so hard that i fell off the couch and into the corner of the coffee table. I rubbed my head, finding that it stung, trickling out thick liquid.

"Get the fuck out of my house boy. Just pack your shit, and make sure you're on a train to Brookenbridge on Thursday!" Mike's rough, alcohol-ridden voice shouted down at me, delivering a painful kick to my bare stomach and ribs. He threw down scraps of what seemed like paper: train tickets. I angrily stood, shoving my 'parents' out of the way. I pulled out my old and worn black suitcase from a pile of drawn on papers at my desk and began shoving as much of my clothes in as possible. After what seemed like forever, i had all of my things gathered and packed, including my eyeliner, sketch book and pencils, essential items, clothes, and my favorite knife. Yeah...about that.... i'm a cutter, and i started when i was eight. My knife had always been kept sharp, and my body (especially my ribs) was littered with huge scars and purple-ish-green bruises. And so now i'm basically ready to leave. I slip on my black combat boots, black skinny jeans, My Chemical Romance t-shirt, and straighten my hair. I quickly stuff the straight iron in my bag when i'm done, and cake on a thick coat of eyeliner before walking infront of my full-size mirror. Damn. I look like one sexy bish, especially with my black, choppy hair in my face. Yeah, it made my freaky eyes pop out. The thing is, my left eye was an icy blue, while my right one was a deep violet that many people found disturbing. My features resembled that of an extremely pale and skinny, flat-chested girl. And i like it that way, i strut out of the old, decrepit 'home' feeling confident as i walk to the forest and out of the ghetto. No worries, i'll just stay in the forest for the next two days until i have to get on a train...... Besides, people don't come here because of Jeff the Killer rumors that he kills anyone in it. So its really safe, he's not even real! But still, all those crazy rumors about him do a great job of scaring people away. I mean, I go into the forest all the time! Even now! And I'm not dead and I've never seen him!