The Boy with the Hazel Eyes

Chapter 4

        We talked for a solid two hours after that. After telling me his name, I found out so much more. His dad was never around and his mother didn't really care. He was in and out of DHS throughout his childhood until his mom cleaned up about three years ago. After taking him in, she still didn't care about what he did or where he was. He was also bullied a lot so he had to switch to my school about three months ago. That would explain why I've never seen him at Belleville High. It's one of the biggest schools in the state. 

        I honestly felt really bad for him. There was only one thing he wouldn't tell me, and it was what he was bullied for, but I wasn't going to push it because that's personal and I had obviously just met him. I couldn't figure out why he was telling me all of this, though. I know I could never open up that much to a complete stranger. It took me about three months to even open up to my councler, even though that's why I was there. 

        In the middle of our conversation, I had gotten the urge to smoke. I didn't want to be rude and just get up and walk out, so I was trying to figure out a way to tell him.

        " Not to interrupt or anything, but I need to go outside and smoke..."

        " Oh, that's okay! Can I bum a cig? I don't have money to buy any right now..."

        I obviously agreed and we walked through my living room to the back door. ( We obviously couldn't go out front, considering we were only sixteen.) As I reached the back door I turned the doorknob and swung the door open. As I pulled the door back I felt something warm touching the back of my hand and I quickly spun around to see Frank, awkwardly blushing and looking down.

        "I'm sorry.. I just meant to grab the door"

        I shrugged it off as nothing. We walked out the door and sat on the lawn furniture that mother had to have as I took out my pack of cigarettes. I handed one to Frank and lit the end and took in a drag. I always love the taste of the nicotine after a long day at school. I also handed Frank the lighter and sat and stared at the sunset just over my fence line. This is one of my favorite times of year to sit out on the back porch. It was the end of May which meant it was still borderline hot, and I loved it. 

        After we had both finished our cigarettes, we put them into the plastic bottle I had brought out since my mother would murder me if she found out about my habit. I think she should appreciate me handling stress this way instead of the old habits I used to have. After people in school found out I was gay, I was the most hated kid there. Every single day it was the same insults and threaths. I hated that people thought of me differently because of my sexuality. After about two months of the bullying, it started to have an effect on me. I guess you could say I was severely depressed. For awhile, I could deal with it by drawing or writing song lyrics, but that suddenly wasn't enough.

        I was writing lyrics to a song I decided to call " The End"

                I was writing the first lyrics that popped into my head and some of them made me have some self-realization. 

                If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see, you can find out first hand what it's like to be me.

        I sat there in shock because I had enough self-loathing that, un purposely, those words were writting on a page by me without me even knowing. I suddenly needed a new way to cope. I tried to think of everything, but nothing seemed like it would work as much as a single cut from a small silver object. I had always heard that depressed people did that to feel better and it was true, at least for awhile. 

        At first it was just a cut here and there. No big deal. After a couple weeks, I needed it all the time. Even if the smallest thing went wrong, I felt like I needed it. Then one day after I got out of the shower and walked to my room, not knowing Mikey was home. He ran into my room as I was changing and he saw every cut that I had. He immediately dropped the movie that he was so excited for us to watch. I believe that it was Star Wars. 

        He gave me time to put clothes on and then we talked. We talked and talked for hours. Since he was in the seventh grade, he had no idea of the rumours that were going on in the high school and I was glad. I had to explain everything to him regarding why I felt the need to harm myself. Neither of us had noticed the time, or the fact that the front door had opened.