Healing Scars

1. Fag

Kylers P.O.V

"You're such a fag!" Brandon hissed, pushing me to the floor. I felt my eyes sting with tears so I turned my head, I didn't want him to see me cry. He kicked me hard in the stomach twice and walked away laughing with his friends. I picked myself up and walked home. My stomach hurt a lot and I was sure I was going to have a bruise from those kicks. Once I got home I went straight to my room and jumped into my bed, crying myself to sleep.

I woke up two hours later with a head ache wishing I could die so I woudn't have to face Brandon again. If only I weren't a freak. Thinking about that I got up from bed and grabbed my razors, making two cuts in the wrist, then four, then six and I didn't stop until my whole arm was bleeding.

This is for being ugly.

This is for being stupid.

This is for being a faggot.

I carved the word in to my flesh and watched the blood ooz from the cut. Fag, fag, fag, fag. I fell asleep with blood dripping down my arm, hoping I wouldn't wake up the next day.

*Next day*

Unfortunately, I did wake up. School had always been shit to me, I'd been teased, bullied, punched, been made fun of since I came out of the closet. All my friends stopped talking to me and that was when Brandon and his group of assholes started messing with me. Because I was a loner and had no one to tell about my brutal beatings or the things they called me.

I put on my black hoodie, skinny jeans and a beanie, along with a blueish scarf and left for school, not even saying goodbye to my mom or brother. It was freezing outside, winter was cold as fuck here. My arm itched alot and when I had taken a shower earlier it burned so much I had to cover it with a towel. I had put a couple band-aids over the bleeding cuts, but it's not like anyone cared if I cut myself or not.

As I pushed the school doors open I thought to myself "This day is going to suck."

I was shoved against lockers.

"Aw, the little fag is here."

Fuck.