Silent Sky {boyxboy}

Prologue: Silent Truth

I am and will forever be original.

Tristan and I became close, fast. We were soon the best of friends. Inseperable and we did everything together. He was like the brother I once lost.

He soon discovered my secret. My dark, tragic past. It was a great surprise the next day when he showed up on my front porch claiming he wanted to walk to school with me that morning. The fact that he wanted to walk together wasn't surprising, seeing as we did every school day. The surprising part was that he still wanted to be friends. I assumed that once he knew, he wouldn't want to remain friends with the freak. The loner. But he proved me wrong. He assured me his family didn't know and he would help me keep it that way.

We were best friends for many years. We shared memories of the best quality and had each others backs through it all. My parents didn't matter. The kids in school didn't matter. Nobody in our neighborhood mattered. It was us against the world. It was unforgettable, and unforgettable was good. Unforgettable was forever. Unforgettable was us.

We were and would forever be, unforgettable.

It was perfect. Or as perfect as perfect could be.

My parents were always out of town. I'm not quit sure why. It could have been business trips but I never really paid attention. They didn't care about me and I didn't care about them. It was just how our system worked.

I had the house to myself all the time with my parents being gone and my brother being dead. I didn't have any other friends so it was always just me and Tristan. It was always just me and Tristan until that one terrifying evening.

Tristan and I were walking home from being at the park all day. We were in 8th grade. Yes, we were getting older but we both still enjoyed the park so much. We went there almost daily. We were walking towards my house.

I was crossing the street but for some reason I stopped. I don't know why I did. I still don't know to this day. I might have saw something that caught my interest. I'm not sure but whatever it was, definitely wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth me stopping in the middle of the road. Wasn't worth me not seeing the cherry red pickup truck barreling towards me at a high speed. Wasn't worth having Tristan seeing it and yelling at me to get out of the road. Wasn't worth me not having fast enough reflexes. Wasn't worth Tristan jumping into the middle of the street with me, just to push me out of the way. Wasn't worth him not having enough time to get out of the way after saving me. And it definitely wasn't worth him getting hit by that truck. Him ending up in a coma. Him having not woken up from said coma to this day. It still wasn't worth it. Whatever it was, to me, it wasn't worth it and never will be.

That day, I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. That day I lost my only friend. That day I lost my Tristan.

Time seemed to go on after that. I didn't pay attention much in school. That was during 8th grade. We were 13. I almost failed that year. It wouldn't have mattered though, just another thing to add to the list that makes me a disappointment to my whole family.

When I started high school it was hell. Plain and simple. I dreaded waking up every morning just to put myself through more torture. I was bullied constantly but I didn't care. Nobody else did so why should I? Of course, deep down I knew I was lying. I did care. I just pushed it down and built a barrier, a wall if you will around my heart.

Tristan and Steel always went to a different school than me. They lived on the other side of town where people lived normally, not in mansions like me.

Because he went to a different school, Steel didn't know me very well. Only through Tristan. He didn't know my secrets and i hoped he never did. I didn't want to have to stop visiting Tristan in the hospital just because I had a bad... horrible, past.

After Tristan went into a coma I didn't see Steel very often. Only the rare occasion I would venture into town and pass him on the street. Other than that, we were strangers.

I was depressed but nobody knew. Nobody cared so who would I tell? They probably all guessed anyways. With their judgmental stereotypes. Just because I had black hair cut in the 'emo' style. I wore eyeliner on my lower lid. I wore skinny jeans and baggy sweaters or long sleeves. Always black. Even in the summer.

The unrevealing clothes hid my bruises. Covered my scars. Closed me off from the rest of the world. Just the way I liked it.

I was an outcast and I always would be. It's just how the world works. There are different types of people. To me, there are three.

One, the Monsters.

The people who put others down to make themselves feel better. They feed off of others insecurities. They live like leeches, sucking the life out of innocent people. They disgust me.

Two, the Victims.

The ones who are the victims of the monsters. They're abused and used like drugs and alcohol. Only there for fun but after its over they leave you feeling broken and alone.

& third, the Helpers.

The people who stand up for the victims. Fight against the monsters. They are neither monsters, nor victims. But an entirely different species. They. help the helpless. Befriend the friendless. They give and give but never take. Those are my favorite types of people. They give me hope in humanity. The sad thing is though, is that there are so few throughout the world.

People view the world differently. Some see it as a paradise. They see hope and greatness in our future. They believe we can be fixed.

The truth is, hope is only something you can feel, experience. It's not an action. Having hope won't make things better. It won't change the world or heal the dying. It doesn't give money to the poor or parents to orphans. It doesn't grow trees after we've cut them down or build houses for the less fortunate. It does however, make people feel better, as if we're not all doomed to suffer for our sins.

I see the world how it really is. Hell on earth. The people are just lying, scheming demons and I don't believe in god. Some don't believe this but I do. If god really was who he said he was. If god really did exist, than why do people suffer. Why do people feel pain, get cancer? If god was really out there, than why doesn't he do anything?

He gives all these people false hope. He isn't going to change the world and neither can we. We think if we have hope, than its enough but its not. We have to act. Now or never.

That's why I stay away. I stay hidden underneath my clothes. Hidden inside my mansion. Hidden in the hallways, away from prying eyes. Because if something bad did happen. Nobody would care anyways. Not even me.

That doesn't mean I enjoy pain though. I once did, not that long ago. I enjoyed it so much, I harmed myself just to feel in control. When other people cause it, there's no control. You can't stop it, even if you wanted to. When I did it myself, I could. I could stop if I wanted to. Not that I ever did though. Nobody cared.

Nobody would ever care.

I'm just me.

I am and will forever be the imperfect, unloved creation that is Skylar Evans.

And this, is my story.

.......

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