The Broken Kids

Prologue

Life - RM (song above)

Dream:

Unknown boy: ​ "Why would you tell the teacher and principal?"
"I thought we were all friends getting along."

   The other boys' near him chuckle.

As the boy's voice is within my hearing I sense him and the others circling around me.

I already recognized what was to occur. This all seems to be a review, however, it felt as if it were to be the first time.

As my mind was searching for a way out, I felt a sharp pain heading down my hip to my leg.

This ends up making me fall.

They laughed as I cried out for them to stop. My tears proceeded to fall like a running river down my cheeks. As the charges to my injured hip prolonged, I couldn't help but just withstand the abuse. I was consumed by it all.

As if eternity had gone on, my suffering grew numb. Their statements already inscribing into me like stone, compelling them to sound right. They proceeded to say how worthless I was and how this was promising for me.

Just as I was about to zone out, the door to the schools' bathroom opened to reveal a male teacher gawking upon the scene that was emerging.
He looked up at me sympathetically but doesn't try to assist me as I plea with my now empty emotionless eyes.
 
Instead, he shuts the door and pretends he never witnessed anything.
Once the boys decided they were spent, they abandoned me there on the ground in zoning out numbness state. I kept reciting the words "Don't leave me..." as they taunted me once more before leaving me to deal with everything on my own.

*Everything turns black*

I now see myself crying as my knees were faced down to the trailer's floor while everyone is gone at work, leaving me at home. Ultimately, I somehow emerged in front of a mirror. I had several assorted shades of purple/blue and yellow-like bruises running down my arms, shoulders, hips, and legs. I observed myself smirking in the mirror starting to laugh.

The sensation of the cold knife within my grasp, making me shiver as I cut slashes along my forearm and on the front of my hand. By now my laughter had increased as the pain started to feel good to the point where I was satisfied. As I continued I realized what I'd done.

I ended up sliding myself down against the wall until I was hugging my knees crying-rocking myself back and forth saying, "Don't leave me."

And before I knew it, I blacked out on the medium-sized tufon. When I awoke from my blackout, a wave of memories flooded into my head. I saw a puddle of blood on the floor I had yet to clean up and found that my cuts were now covered in dry blood. The knife I had wielded was now coated in small streaks of blood along with tiny droplets next to it. I never tended to my wounds.