I stole stars for you (fuenciado)

Sed and Bruises

(WARNING THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING SO VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!)

<Hehe I feel like a caution narrator for movie commercials>

*Jaime POV*

I can't stand him. He's such a jerk and he doesn't deserve her. Or even me. And that's a big thing of me to say considering my high levels of self hatred,

Ok maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. His name is Sed. He says he loves my mom but we all know it's just a matter of time before he hits her. Or walks out on us. Or dies like my father. But this death might actually bring joy to me while my fathers just left me with sad eyes and a strong case of PTSD. Or did Sed give me that? Ok the point is that he's a fucking ass hat that lives to make my life miserable.

The only good part about Sed is that he's away on business trips a lot. Now I don't mind him being gone but everyone who's ever watched ABC family or hallmark movies knows "Business trips" are code for ' im cheating on you because for some reason your amazingness and kindness isn't enough for me so I'll go get laid by a whore. '

Or maybe I'm just bitter with trust issues.

Either way I know I'm right. He's been verbally abusing me ever since my mom let him move In about 2 years ago. I can't blame my mother for not dumping him though. She has no idea what goes on while she's at work or sleeping. He's an angel around her, but I know who he really is. Although I wish I didn't. The only other good part about Sed is that at least he takes everything out on me instead of my mom.

I know that sounds weird but I'd gladly live through hell as long as she doesn't have to suffer as well. But it's been getting hard to deal with him lately. He doesn't normally make it physical but he has hit me about 4 times before and each time within the past 2 months.

I know that means something's up. I kind of just want to ask him what's wrong but I think it'd be pretty weird if in the middle of him throwing a punch at me while calling me a fag I just step away and say 'hey man, now look I've noticed you've been having a rough couple of months why don't we just sit down and you tell me what's been going on.'

I mean who does that? Oh that's right me.

You see, this morning I was getting ready for school when all the sudden he comes bursting into my room telling me I didn't take out the trash. Naturally I defended myself.

"Well you're to heavy to pick up" wrong move Jaime.

In the middle of my 5th punch by him being thrown at me while he was yelling such nice words to me I did exactly what I said. I asked him what's wrong.

Now I thought before I made a bad move. This was even worse.

He spat at me and threw me on the ground. A sudden rush of pain surged through my entire body. Where were my ancestors Mexican fight powers when I needed them? Ok I don't actually think my ancestors were Mexican fighters, in fact I think my grandma mentioned a knitting shop. Ok getting off topic.

In the midst of me thinking about all of the stupid things that run through my mind I felt a sudden burst of hurt on my rib cage. That mother fucker just kicked me. BUT WHY DID HE HAVE TO WEAR STEEL TOED BOOTS?

As I was holding back my tears, through my blurry vision I saw him walking away. After a couple of moments I heard a car door slam and an engine start. Good. I'm glad the bastard is gone. But I knew it wouldn't last.

Now I'm lying here on my bedroom floor. Alone. Loneliness is never a good option for me especially after being called worthless and beaten by my moms boyfriend.

Ok so school starts in like 10 minutes and I'm bleeding in my room. Probably not gonna make it on time. Well knowing that skipping school isn't an option I slowly tried to get up.

Ok ow. Not a good plan. Why on earth did I have to sass him? Oh that's right because I'm a bratty teenage boy. Well If I could go back in time and re do that conversation id probably just say something worse. So forget regret. That hoe's for losers. Oh wait. I am one.

Ok so I'm just gonna have to suck it up and get my ass off the floor. So I muster up all my courage and oh. Ow. Ok so I'm currently sitting up. Now that I'm past the worst part I have to force the rest of my body off the ground.

After many painful movements and several groans I was up and making my way to my bathroom. I took my shirt off examining my injuries. Well I have giant bruises littered upon my rib cage. Oh beautiful. After I threw a mini pitty party for myself I grabbed a washcloth and began washing the semi dried blood off of my torso.

After it was all bandaged up I assessed the rest of the damage. Well my legs had slight bruising on my calves from being thrown against the wall but my arms were clear... Well for now at least.

So I threw on a pair of jeans despite the 85 degree weather. Didn't need anyone asking questions. Then I slipped on a new shirt since my other one was blood stained.

I grabbed my sweater off my bathroom counter to reveal the blade I had been able to avoid yesterday. It taunted me as I tried to fight it but I couldn't. So I sat on the edge of the bath tub and I grabbed my worst enemy. Or best friend. It's kinda a love hate relationship.

I brought the blade to the already scarred skin on my left arm. But those scars were faded and at least a month and a half old. That was a record for me actually. But I never went that deep. The worst part was I like seeing scars though so it gave me a reason to do it even more since mine usually faded.

I began to think about all the words I had been called and how I'd been starving myself for the past three months. And all the nightmares I have and it all became to much. Tears started to stream down my face.

I dug the blade into my wrist and dragged it across my arm several times. I was careless with how deep I went or how many I did. It was all out of a mixture of anger and sadness.

The worst combination ever.

As I finally decided i had done enough damage I threw the blade against my bathroom wall causing it to ricochet and it landed somewhere unknown.

Well I'll have fun finding that later.

I looked down at my wrist to see it covered in blood. Pathetic. I'm so pathetic.

I washed off the blood to discover I had made 16 horizontal lines.

I guess I'll dedicate each one to a year I've lived.

I look at them in more detail and notice they're deeper than past ones. Guess I was really frustrated. That's an understatement.

I looked at the time realizing I had 20 minutes to make it to 2nd period on time. I quickly bandaged my wrist up and threw on a blink 182 jacket despite the warm weather. Again.

I laced up my red vans and grabbed my house keys slamming the door on my way out.

As I walked to school it was silent since I didn't bother with music. As I approached hell I breathed a sigh. Now I'm not sure if it was out of relief or dread.

Probably both.

(A/N I feel like this chapter was hella long. Or not. Idk. So uh sorry. Thanks for 140 reads! It means a lot. Sorry for the triggering chapter by the way. I will also go through and check for mistakes later but I'm tired so if you run across a mistake before I fix it I hope you can understand what I meant. Ok so uh comment, vote, keep reading. I love ya)