Comfortably Numb (Kellic)

Chapter One

The cold liquid ran over and through my fingers. Droplets were left in its wake, collecting in small pools on my hand.

Water is like time. Slowly, it wears away nearly anything. Water is deadly. It'll fill your lungs when you're praying for air. Water is beautiful. The sun hits it in all the right places, forming some sort of prism effect. Kind of like Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album cover.

Hands pressed against my back, sending me into the pond. The water enveloped me in its unforgiving embrace, depriving me of oxygen. I kicked towards the light, surfacing and gasping for air.

"Talking to your friends again, Quinn?" Sykes said, smirking evily. He said the word 'friends' with venom.

Oliver Sykes hated me with a burning passion. His gang, including himself, made my life a living hell. As if I didn't have enough at home to deal with.

When I first started this school, I was liked and praised. Some would even say I was up there with the jocks. And I was. But slowly, I was pushed away.

Katelynn and I used to date. She's the cheer captain, and I was head of the soccer team. Was, being the key word.

One night, she wanted to go further. But I turned her down. Recently, I had been questioning my sexuality. She accused me of being gay, and I told her I was. So, long story short, the whole school shunned me after that. Most of the lower rep kids were just afraid to associate themselves with me.

I waitied till they were out of sight to swim towards the muddy bank. My shoes were making the most awful sloshing noise, and my clothes sounded as if I were standing in the wind.

I cursed under my breath. The walk back home isn't going to be a fun one.

As I was walking back around, I heard chuckles bounce around the crowd of teens. It's absolutely embarrassing, but I've learned to ignore it. This is a world of predator and prey- survival of the fittest.

The walk wasn't too awfully long. It never is. Though I like walking. It gives me time to think about something besides the cruelty inside this world. Plus, I like the scenery. Especially Spring and Fall. In Spring, the leaves were all sorts of bright colors: yellow, orange, pink, blue, purple. In Fall, they stuck to colors within the same range. Fall is beautiful in its own morbid way. Everything is dying, but looks amazing while doing so. If only the humam life related in any way.

"Kellin, you have a therapy session at six." My mother, Lisa, said.

I nodded, and went to my room to change. Most of my outfit had dried during the walk, but still. I didn't want to smell like nasty pond water.

Glancing over one last time in the mirror, I looked away in disgust. It's nearly impossible for me to own a mirror. The only reason I look in it is to judge myself further. Not that I do it purposefully, they just surface. I can't look at myself without having some degrading thought. My therapist says it's very unhealthy.

I jogged down the stairs, and began to make my way towards my appointment.

"Why don't you take the car this time?" My mother suggested.

"I like walking." I stated, shrugging my shoulders.

She frowned, but nodded. Hardly ever will she argue with me. It's not that she's scared, she just doesn't really care. Sometimes she'll persist. That's not often though.

Honestly, I walk because I need to lose weight. I'm severely fat. That's also something I'm strict on: my weight. I'll go days without much to eat. I've tried to, but when I do, it comes right back up. The only thing I've been able to keep down is yogurt and cereal. So, that's my main diet.

The brown beat up building appeared in the distance. I despise therapy sessions. They ask questions multiple times. They're no help to me. All they do is put you on a happy pill. For once, I'd like to be happy without medicine.

"Afternoon Mr. Bostwick." The receptionist said, beaming brightly.

"It's Quinn." I mumbled.

No matter how many times I come here, they continue to use the wrong last name. I refuse to use Bostwick. That name died with the sorry human I called a father.

Most of the early stages of my life, he beat my mother. It's something I remember only vaguely. After my mom was put in the hospital, he started abusing me. As far as I can remember, he never put hands on her again. Partly because she moved in with her brother. That's something I'll never forgive her for- she left me to fend for myself. I wasn't even a teenager yet. Never once did she tell the cops what he did.

Alongside abusing me, he abused alcohol. It got bad. Daily, he'd come home wasted. That's when the beatings got bad. One day, he didn't hit me though. He came home and fell asleep on the couch. But he never woke up. After that, my mom came back home and watched over me.

"Kellin, you can go on back." The lady at the desk told me.

I pushed myself up, and forced my feet forward. The door was slightly cracked, like always. I pushed it open further, and took my usual seat in the hard plastic chair.

"How have you been lately, Kellin?" Mr. Irwin asked.

"Same as always." I muttered.

He pulled out his notepad, and scribbled something on it. I could only imagine what. I've only said three words.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"No." I said, bluntly.

He frowned at me. "Well, today is my last day. You'll have a new instructor."

"What?" I raised my voice, which seemed to surprise him.

I may hate therapy, but I've had the same person for three years. He can't leave now. I'll end up getting someone worse than him. They'll be an asshole.

"I'm leaving Kellin." He said, as if I didn't hear him.

There was nothing I could do or say to make him stay, so I just shut up again. I know it aggravates him that I don't talk. We're not allowed to leave until the thirty minutes is over, so we'll just sit in silence. Some days I might talk. All it really boils down to, is my mood that day. After earlier, my mood went downhill.

"You can go now." He said. More like ordered.

I got up and quickly left the place. The therapist isn't a place I'm fond of visiting, nonetheless staying longer than necessary.

----

I entered the house, welcomed by the sickly sweet smell of pie. My stomach cried out. The smell is so enticing.

"Kells sweetie, I made you some pie." My mother said, giving me a broken smile. A part of me should feel bad, but I don't.

"No thanks." I mumbled, running up the stairs and away from the temptation.

I'm so weak. I can't handle the smell of food, knowing good and well I'm too fat to eat. Man up, Kellin. The urge to purge was back.

Quickly, I snatched up my phone, threw myself on the bed, and pressed play on my iPod. Music calms me down more than anything. The song Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd was the first to play.

The song gave me an odd sense of comfort. I'm not even one hundred percent sure what the lyrics are supposed to mean, but I have my own interpretations.

Sleep began tugging at my senses. It wasn't long before I gave into its unforgiving embrace.