Hatred

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Caleb woke up in his room. His arm was firmly wrapped in a bandage, and he was tucked tightly into his bed sheets. He looked around his small room in confusion, trying to remember what happened. He sat up slowly, wincing as his arm stung and his head ached. He looked down at his arm to see that blood had soaked through a little.

He moved to get out of bed. But when he heard the doorknob to his room turn, Caleb quickly laid back down and pretended to still be unconscious. He peeked ever so slightly to see his mother come into the room.

His mother jerked his arm upright and aggressively changed the bandage. Caleb did everything in his power to not cry out in pain and to remain in his pretend sleep. When she finished, she left the room and slammed the door. He could hear her muttering outside, "Stupid little bastard, getting himself in trouble like that. I hope he bleeds to death or dies from not enough pain killers."

That's not how it works but whatever, Caleb thought to himself as he sat up, I think everyone would be a lot better off if I had died.

Either it was from exhaustion or from sheer overwhelming depression, but Caleb fell back to sleep.

He woke up with dry tears on his face. So many sounds started reaching his ears as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. He heard yelling from the other room, and sirens outside his window.

Someone was yelling outside, the wind was howling, everything was so loud. Caleb sat up and cupped his hands over his ears as anger, rage, fear, and overwhelming senses of hopelessness washed over him. It was too much, all too much. Too many sounds, too many people, too many things happening and it was all because he deserved it...

No...

...you deserve this...

NO!

He wasn't going to take it anymore. He screamed out as loud as he could, "WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!???"

Then...

There was silence.

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