Mr Greene (BoyxBoy)

~Chapter 1~

Lucas's P.O.V~

My name is Lucas Walker. I'm seventeen, which makes me a senior at Windforth High school, and let me tell you: it sucks. They say high school is the best time of your life- I've never heard more bullshit. I'm a social outcast, with clinical depression, insomnia, and almost anything you could think of to make my life a living hell, including bullying at school, and abuse at home.

I normally hang out with my friend Antoinetta at school. It's insane how many people I hear joke about depression and suicide daily, and it's almost comical to think that these guys don't have to suffer frequent panic attacks or the consuming feeling of loneliness or helplessness. They have the ability to perform mundane tasks, like eating or showering, and not have to fight with themselves to get out of bed, or break down into tears at the most inconvenient times possible because their depression decided to hit them in the face like a brick

My home life isn't great. In fact, it's not even okay. My dad works as a higher up for a multi-billion dollar company, and the stress and workload that came with it caused him to drink like it's the end of the world. He's an abusive drunk, which you can imagine is exactly the kind of drunk you want around you, but for some reason he only seems to take it out on me.

My mother left when I was born. My dad told me it was because she swore I was a demon child and kept going on about how I was going to ruin their lives and regretting she even had me, so of course he decided the best option was to get re-married to a money-grubber, Jessica, who actually kind of started to fall in love with him and hated me just as much as he and my mother did.

By their wedding -which was disgustingly expensive might I add- my mom had already had Damien and Lassandra, my older siblings, and me, and Jessica already had a 13 month old baby named Cassidy with a different man. Which means -you guessed it!- they started dating and got married within 13 months of meeting. I was two when they got married, and three when dad knocked up Jessica with the twins Killian and Juliet. A year after she popped out two children, she had my youngest brother, Chris, which I have to admit, is pretty impressive.

My admiration for her stops there though, considering she hits me for simply existing, claiming I'm good for nothing and look too much like my mother, which isn't my fault, but, hey, you can't reason with crazy. My other siblings are fine though, never getting abused, which I'm very thankful for. They might hate me, but I'd never wish this life on anyone, especially them.

Lassandra and Damien moved out a little while ago to go to college far away. I don't blame them- I'd do it too. Jessica somehow pinned the twins on me, and Chris simply follows the crowd, not really doing anything but not interfering either, and Cassidy packs one hell of a strong punch, though it's beyond me how she can even form a proper fist with the long-ass hooker nails she always has on.

So I'm not safe in my house, and school is no better. Everyone in the school hates me- even though I haven't even met over half the population- except for Antoinetta, and her older brother Alek, who used to go to our school, but graduated a year ago. If the students don't ignore me, then they beat me, and oh boy do the jocks love using me as a punching bag! Especially since I was outed as gay a little over two years ago

I woke up to the sound of beeping, squinting as the sun streamed through the open black curtains that sat tied back again my baby blue walls. I groaned as I rolled over on my hard mattress, untangling myself from the old, thin duvet, and stumbling as quietly as possible over to the other side of my very cramped "room" to my even smaller closet

I pulled out my older white sweater with the words "Angel" written across it in silver font, that Damien got me for my birthday a couple years ago. It was big on me then, and it's big on me now, hanging loosely over my pale 5"3 frame. I pulled on a pair of tight black ripped skinny jeans, and slipped on my dirty, worn-out black converse, before quietly slipping out of the room.