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"Bleed the Freak" Table of Content:
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Chapter 1: "Memories"“My cup runnet over As I sit alone in my room, I wonder. Why? Why am I here? Is this some sort of punishment? My life is a living hell. Everyday I wake up hoping to die. I tried to kill myself before but it didn’t work. Unfortunately for me, my stupid brother found me. Why? Why didn’t he just let me die? Why did he have to save me? I can remember the day perfectly. I was coming home from another miserable day at school. I hate that fucking place. It’s like a prison. They don’t let me do anything I want. My teachers are constantly telling me to try harder. Or that I have so much potential. I hate when they say that. It makes me want to blow their brains off. “When the pig runs slower That day I had another fight with that bitch, Kevin. He thinks he’s the greatest person in the entire world. Too bad his brain is the size of a peanut. Anyway, the reason why we fought was the same as always. I hate him and he hated me. He would constantly tell me what a piece of shit I am. I knew he was right but I’d never let him know that. We pounded each other until some dumb teacher came and stopped us. My heart felt as if it would explode. My adrenaline was still rushing. Before I realized it, I hit the teacher square in the face. Red blood came gushing down his nose and mouth. Everyone who was standing around watching could only gasp in horror. No one’s ever hit a teacher in the entire history of the school. “When you scorn my lover Another teacher came to see what all the commotion was about. “What happened here? What’s going on?” he asked. “This punk over here just broke my nose!” screamed the bleeding teacher. “Why you little punk. Get over here. You are in big trouble,” commanded the other teacher. He grabbed me by my shirt and dragged me to the principal’s office. The principal was horrified when he heard what I did. He gave me this huge, long lecture about my attitude and misbehavior. They didn’t care that I was bleeding from Kevin’s beating. They only saw what I did. He expelled me from school and said he would talk to my parents the next day. After he let me go, I walked out. Everyone was still outside. They all gave me this weird look as if I belonged in a mental institution. I don’t care what they think. I never did and never will. Oh well, at least they noticed me now unlike those other times when Kevin beat me to a bloody pulp. Those bastards didn’t see then, did they? My entire life Kevin has beaten me over and over. But this year it was different. This year I started to fight back especially after my brother taught me how. He’s always there for me whenever he can. I slowly made my way home. My heart felt heavy in my chest. Suddenly, I regretted what I did. I was so afraid. Flashbacks of my father burst into my head. The way he loved to hit me until I bled. The way he took pleasure in whipping me with his leather belt while I cried and begged for mercy. Tears streamed down my face. He was the one person that I feared the most in the entire world. As soon as I got home, I ran up to my room. I locked my door and silently prayed my dad wouldn’t come home. I sat alone in the darkness of my room and rocked myself back and forth. Then an idea popped into my brain. I got up and frantically searched my room. Then I saw it. Glistening in the corner of my dresser was my beloved razor. I picked it up and took off my shirt. As I did, the razor made a small cut on my face but I didn’t care. I knew what I was going to do and nothing was going to stop me. I sat on the edge of the bed and started slicing away at my arms. The pain was excruciating but I kept doing it. Blood oozed its way down my arm and made a tiny puddle on the floor. I didn’t care. Then I made what I thought was the final cuts and slit my wrists. The gashes were deep and long. I dropped the razor as my strength left me. I fell to the floor and everything went black. “Bleed for me, bleed for me The next time I woke up, I found myself in the hospital. All my family members were there. They all looked like they’ve just been to a funeral. My mother screamed for joy when she saw me awake. My brother told me he found me on the floor with blood surrounding my body. I found that I’d been in a coma for six weeks. He also told me that I had to see a therapist, doctor’s order. I can still remember everything like it happened yesterday. I can still feel the razor on my skin. I can feel the same fear I felt that day. “Phoenix, come downstairs and eat breakfast! The food’s getting cold!” yelled my brother from the kitchen. “I’m coming,” I answered, even though I don’t feel like eating. I run to the bathroom and wipe the tears off my face. I made my way downstairs and sat down with my brother and my mother. “Hey, are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying?” asked my brother. He knew the answer. Yet he still asks me everyday. “I’m fine, Trent. Just a little tired, that’s all. “If you say so. Oh, don’t forget that you have to see your shrink today. I’m going to drop you off and pick you up, okay?” said Trent. “Yeah,” I mumbled. My mother as usual didn’t utter a word. She never spoke around me ever since I snapped at her a few months ago. Of course my dad made sure I paid for it. She knew. It was all her fault. I ran up to my room without eating. I grabbed what I needed and stuffed it in my pants. No one suspected what was about to happen. Their lives will never be the same again. “These stand for me
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