Slaving To Nightmares (Ryden Fanfiction)

1.

(Brendon's p.o.v entire book)

       

       Air is kind of suffocating when you don't want to breathe. Life is kind of suffocating when you don't want live. Love is kind of suffocating when you don't want to get hurt.

       The air around me at the moment smell like pain and tears. Well also the eyeliner that is running down my face is smelling too.

     I look at myself in the mirror with two hands on the sink. I look like I got out of a battle, with black blood. Eyeliner that was spreading down to my chin was starting to stain, and I just stared at it, wondering if it would stay like that forever if I didn't wash it now. Maybe people would actually see that it hurts, what they make me go through hurts.

     My dark brown shaggy hair was hanging over my left eye, and the top was smoothed straight down. I use a Straightener and eyeliner? So what? My lips are bruised with purple, it's not lipstick I promise. My pale skin could be a ghost if it wanted to. I mean I don't have a soul anyway, right? That's why I get all this pain? I can't be a ghost, people pay attention to me too much, and I feel it all.

       I decide just to wash my face because maybe it'll save questions from my peers in my next class, well last class.

     In all honesty, I'm not the type of person that is happy that the school day is over. I'm terrified to go home, and to go to school. I have nothing to look forward too, at all. I get hurt each place. I'm not allowed to go anywhere else anyway.

        Once I dry my face with the paper towels in the dispenser, I grab my green backpack from the wall I was beat at earlier, and make my way out of the bathroom.

      I fast walk to class, not wanting any problems on the way there, but of course I am because I am literally a target to everyone in this school.

      "Sup Urine, done cleaning up the eyeliner?" The bully called out, Pete,  then shoving me to the nearest locker. I whimper at the pain on my chest and try to gain my words, but it's caught in my throat.

      "Thought so, Andy get his back pack." Pete turned to Andy, the other bully. He tugged the pack off me, opening it and spilling it all over the floor. Dropping it as a finish. The papers and notebooks flushed all over the area like a waterfall.

    "Don't be late to class fag." Pete said before walking away with his demon sidekick, Andy.

      I groaned because I was totally going to be late to class now. I picked up the things quick, but if course the bell rang before I could make it inside my class.

      I ran inside my Math class 2 minutes after the bell and I got some laughs and scoffs when I walked to the back, where my seat always is.

  "Your late Mr. Urie."  Mrs. Hernandez says, "Were you with some guy or something?" She says as if it was a joke. Yeah, my teachers aren't that nice either. No one is nice to me, not even my fish.

   "Probably getting raped or something!" One of the boys called out and the entire class laughed. How is treatment like this even legal? I have never witnessed harassment like this in the movies.

      I cringed at the word, running shivers down to my spine. I swallow the choke that is in my throat and tap my foot. Over and over again. My eyes got watery once they called out more things like.

"ADHD boy is at it again!"

"Careful! His depression is contagious!"

    And this one is the one that I hear most often.

"Kill yourself!"

       Do they not understand their actions at all? What did I do to deserve this? All this torment started when I was 12, middle school. I was a awkward little bitch that tended to talk to much. So what?

     

         I finally get to this place called "Home." I take a breath before I walk inside, like everyday after school.

      I take of my black, dirty converse and put them in the shoe rack. Just when I thought there wasn't going to be any drama today, my dad walks into the kitchen. Where I am.

  "Brendon!" He calls, "How fucking dare you! You didn't take my orders like I told you too! Your supposed to take your ADHD medicine before you go to school!" He yells while putting down the brown bottle of bear on the counter.

      "It makes me weak. I tell you this everyday." I mutter, I don't raise my voice because I don't want to make things worse. My father raised his eyebrows and did the obvious, swung at my face, again.

       It stung at first but the other strains in my face numb it. I cry and run away from him, to my room in the hall. I heard my mother say something before I slammed the door, it sounded like, "He fucking deserved it."

        Like I said, the entire world is against me. Literally. Everyone hates me, I guess that's just my vibe. I'm not going to be good in life. Why am I still surviving to this day? I'm shocked I didn't kill myself, yet.

     I roll up both of my sleaves of my lavender hoodie, counting my marks. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..... twenty eight slices of flesh have become scars on my skin in the past two weeks. I'm proud I haven't hurt myself in a couple days, but with me you never know when I will crack again.

       God, I am so worthless. I lay down, face in the pillow while I bawl 

myself off into a sleep that I still don't even like. It's still a nightmare.