I'm With Reaper Boy [ Boyxboy ]

Chapter Eleven- What's The Point?

"Girlfriend!? What?!" I twirl in the arms to find a female has herself attached to me like a koala.

I squirm out of her embrace and wipe myself. Then I give her a bewildered expression. "What the Hell was that for?"

She's one of the girls from school. She shrugs and giggles. "We're going out, so I wanted to give you a hug."

I stare at her blankly. "What? I'm not going out with you! I'm not going out with anyone! Why would you say something like that!? That's stupid!"

I hear laughing as two guys and two girls come in our direction. "I told you she was lying, girls."

The girl who gave me a hug stomped her foot and looked at me angrily. "S-so you lied about how much you said you love me?!"

I furrow my brows. "I never said anything. I don't even know your name."

She looks around anxiously. "What are you talking about? You said you loved me yesterday!"

"No, I didn't. Are you making this up, or mistaking me for someone else?" I ask, completely confused and angry.

"Why are you lying?! Is it because of these girls," She gestures to my cousins, "So you're a player? Is that it?"

"Look, those are my cousins, and this is the first time I've ever spoken to you, and you're making a fool of yourself for the first talk." I say, exasperated.

"Julie, we know you're lying. Give it up." One of the guys say.

"Whatever...." She growls, stomping away.

One of the guys pat me on the shoulder. "Sorry you had to go through that. She said she was going out with you, and how you said you loved her. When you came here, we thought this was her moment to prove it because me and the guys didn't believe her, but the girls did, and we wanted to prove her wrong. See you 'round." He walks with his group into the mall.

I turn to look at Faith. "I can't believe that. Why are people making lies like that?"

She shrugs, looking disappointed."For popularity. Getting the other girls jealous and taking all the glory. Get used to it. So...you really don't have a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

I put my hands on my hips. "When have I ever gone out with someone?.....Exactly."

We walk into the mall, me feeling cautious. Wary someone else will pop out and claim we're together. When no one does that, I relax a little and browse through a few stores with my cousins. They're not like most girls. They let me go to the places I want, for one, and they talk very little. Or squeak. But they always give me hugs, which I don't mind, considering they're my cousins and I enjoy hugs. They make me feel like I matter in this world. Like I actually mean something.

Soon, they go to the food court and chose their food. The best thing about them, is they actually eat. They don't pick at the food. And they are fit, considering they take gym as an elective. I do, and I'm fast, but nothing to boast about.

After we eat, we look around some more.

"Kye?" A voice says, sounding shocked.

I look up to see Trent staring at me, an almost identical person next to him, but a little older-looking. I'm sure he's his brother.

"Yeah....hey..." I trail off and try to move past him, but Trent gets in my way.

"This is my brother, Joana. This is Krystle, Joana." Trent speaks.

"It's Kye." I murmur.

"Does it matter? No, I didn't think so." He says, and I stare at him, shocked at his wit.

"It's nice to meet you. Trent has told me things about you." Joana says, shaking my hand.

My eyes flicker between the two of them. "He has, has he? What are those 'things'?"

He shrugs. "Just how you're the first guy to seem composed in situations."

I glare at Trent, and he just winks and gives a cheeky grin.

"Well, have a nice day. I suppose." I say tightly, leaving with my cousins.

His ass will belong to me if he mentioned anything about my uncle to his brother. I swear, I WILL kill him.

We get inside the car, and we drive to Jim's. I still refuse to call it home. It'll never be home. Nowhere will be home for me.

When we make it to the house, I rush up to my room, and get the knife from under my bed after locking my door. I sit at the edge of the bathtub. I have my own bathroom.

I bring the knife to my wrist and bite my bottom lip to keep silent, as the dark, erotic pain spreads through my arm and shoulder. I continue to cut. Not deep enough to bleed badly, but enough to cause a lot of pain. But pleasurable pain for me.

I ask myself why I do this? What's the point?

Because it feels good. A painfully good way. I have no other feeling when I'm on the pills, so I'll have to try and feel something. I do this so I don't have to focus on the emotional pain. This helps me think about physical pain since it doesn't hurt as much. It makes me forget the pain that latches to my heart every time I think about how my life could've been.

I could be like most average teens out there. I could have a loving family, I could love myself, I could feel good things, I wouldn't cut, I wouldn't be messed up. I'd have fun and I'd actually smile. But I'm none of that, and I won't think about it because it hurts me. It makes my heart yearn for the happiness I've missed through most of my teen life. It's never gonna happen, so there is no point in thinking of what could've been my life. It hasn't happened, so don't hope. Hope doesn't bring anything but disappointment and a crushed soul. I don't think I have a soul. It probably left, because it couldn't stand my miserable, pathetic life. No one could stand me. I look okay on the outside, sure, but if people got to know the real me, they would most definitely make a run for it.

Which raises another question: who is the real me?

I don't know. I didn't actually live a life. I've probably died and can't remember, and I'm stuck in the dimension of pain and misery. I have no light to guide me to happiness, and I don't need one. I have dealt with this agony for years, and I can continue.

Only....

What will become of me when I'm older? Will I even have a life? What would I do with it?

No. I want to die before I even try to start one.

I'm brave enough to end my life, but....I'd also be brave to live it.

I'd also be weak to not be able to put a bullet through my head, and I'd be weak to kill myself and not live through the pain.

But what's the point of living if you have nothing to live for?