Story Snippets

Wanting To Be Loved

Do you understand the pain that people go through? How much they're suffering? No? Let me tell you a story then about a boy who died.

He was only fourteen years old and all alone in this world full of hatred and cruelty. He was gay and unaccepted by his family. His mother would hit him everyday and all he wanted was to be loved. To think that this kid could have lived if he was given love, even if it was something little such as a simple hug. 

He had a crush on a boy who he thought to be his best friend. So, he did what he thought he never had the courage to do and confessed his love to friend. His friend that was always there for him. His friend that he thought would love him as well. Once the boy told his friend of his love all his friend did was burst into laughter. The boy became extremely confused at this. His head was foggy, making him irrational and not think straight. His friend started to call him a fag and tease him.

The boy then ran home, escaping into his room and locking the door as his mother started to drink in the room next to him. He did something that he never had done before. He was pacing around his room as tears streamed down his face. He took in a shaky and ragged breath as he caught sight of his pocket knife that his dad gave to him, before their family fell apart. He picked up the knife as he traced his finger along the edge of the blade. He hastily pulled up sleeve as he started to make deep gashes on his wrist. One after the another. His arm was decorated with blood but he still didn't stop. He would keep going until his arm looked like a cut up rag doll. He wanted more. He wanted to see enough blood that he might die from the amount lost. He cried once again as the cuts started to die down. After several deep gashes he finally stopped and his arm was coated with a thick layer of blood.

The next day he walked into school and everyone was staring at him. He could hear whispers as he made his way to his locker. It was decorated with graffiti that contained the words faggot and other hurtful names. He felt tears threaten to fall from his eyes as he opened his locker. It was covered with sticky notes that contained cruel comments regarding him and even taking it as far as to tell him to kill himself. Tears were now freely flowing down his face as he stood there only to wallow in the hate. The friend he had turned out to be just like everyone else.

All week he would pass by people and all they would do is say hateful things. The name calling turned into pushing and the pushes turned into punches. He was getting beat up before and after school. They were even threatening to track him down to where he lived. 

He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted nothing to do with the pain he felt. He just wanted everything to end and that's exactly what he was going to do. He was going to end everything. He ran home. His mom wasn't there, nor was his dad. There was no one there to stop him from suicide. He took the same knife that he used to self harm. He didn't want to die, he just wanted to end his pain. He paced around the room frantically as he firmly held the knife in his grip.

He took a few deep breaths as he went over to his bedroom's window and stared out at the sky. He always imagined dying as he look out at the sky before him. He took a deep breath as he held the knife against his neck. He thought of all the people that called him names or hit him just because he was gay. He thought of all the people that hurt him for it. Tears were freely flowing down his face. He thought that he would finally follow everyone's advice and kill himself. He stared at the beauty of the sky as he quickly slid the blade across his neck, making a deep gash. He was bleeding out and there was no saving him, he was fated for death. 

Another young boy around his age appeared at his house, knocking on the door with a single rose in his hand. No one responded. He knocked again as the smile faded from his face. He twisted the door knob only for the door to be unlocked. He hesitantly walked into the house. He knew that this was breaking an entry but he couldn't help but feel as if something was wrong. He made his way up a flight of stairs and into what he assumed to be his crush's room. He paled at the sight as scream made its way from his lips. The boy he loved laid there, dead in his own blood. If only he got there a couple minutes sooner.

Maybe then he would have finally been loved.