It must’ve been raining during the night. My clothes were soaking wet, and I was shivering from the cold. I held back my tears, trying to push myself up from the wet and freezing ground. My back felt like it had snapped in half, and my head was hurting so badly I almost threw up as I got up on my knees. I tasted blood in my mouth…

I sniffed quietly while trying to wipe the blood off my face with my sleeves. I spotted my backpack close by, and everything I’d had in it was now scattered all over the ground. I sat down and picked up the remains of my math book. All my belongings, everything I had with me, had suffered the same fate. My books were torn, my new notebook was covered in mud, and I couldn’t see my pencil case anywhere. They must have stolen it.

I had gotten used to it by now, but it still hurt my soul. Why didn’t they just leave me alone? Did I really deserve all the beating? Was I somehow a bad person? Maybe I was. Maybe my existence was bad for the universe, and it was only right for me to suffer. 

Maybe I really was such a bad person I needed to be punished like this.

Once I collected what was left of my stuff, I started limping home. It was still early in the morning, but I knew I was going to be late for school. I had to go get the rest of my schoolbooks from home, or I would get in trouble with my teachers. I’d stopped going to my locker since the bullies were always there, waiting for me, so I had to keep everything at home.

When I got home, I had to ring the doorbell because someone must’ve taken my keys last night. My heart felt heavy when I waited for my brother or dad to come open the door for me. I knew they wouldn’t be happy to see me. At all. To them, I was only a nuisance, a rat in their household they couldn’t wait to get rid of.

It was my brother who opened the door.

“Did you find a nice hole for yourself to live in?” Allen asked angrily when he saw me standing at the door. “You dirty piece of shit, look at yourself!”

I didn’t reply to him. Allen wouldn’t even want to hear my answer. He just enjoyed humiliating me. When I didn’t say a word, he grabbed me by my hoodie and yanked me inside. I lost my balance and fell to the floor, hitting my elbow.

“Get up, idiot!” Allen spat at me without any remorse in his voice.

I got back up on my feet slowly. Everything hurt, but I didn’t cry or even flinch in front of Allen. I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing my pain. And I was afraid he’d try to make it worse for me.

“You’re going to be late, fag,” he said, and his voice was suddenly pleasant, but only because he was happy to know I’d get in trouble at school.

My family hated me. Dad didn’t care what was happening to me. He only cared about his beer. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if he even remembered he had children. Allen, on the other hand, was even worse than my bullies. He was determined to make my life a living hell.

He was one year older than me, and still in the same high school. I was a junior, and he was a senior. I had bullies at school, but Allen was everywhere, making the perfect ally for Sean and the others.

I kept my head down while Allen stared at me silently. I was too scared to leave the hallway without his permission. I didn’t even have the guts to look him in his eyes, which were exactly like mine. We looked alike, but Allen was bigger and stronger than me, and he had short, blond hair.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he finally snapped at me, and I didn’t waste a second to get away from him.

I hurried upstairs and into my bedroom to find my books. My room was small and messy, and I had taped the walls with posters of different bands. I loved listening to music, but someone had stolen my music player – probably Sean – and my dad had refused to buy me a new one.

After I found my books, I changed my dirty clothes into a clean black hoodie and a pair of black jeans. Black was my favorite color. It was easier to hide in the dark corners in black clothes. Besides, I had nothing good or colorful left in my life. Everything was just pitch-black darkness for me.

I combed my black hair, letting my bangs hang loose in front of my eyes. It was an old habit of mine to hide my acne scars with bangs, but I preferred them longer also because I was shy, and the bullying made it only worse. I didn’t speak to anyone anymore – like there was someone who even wanted to talk with me.

I stopped to stare at myself in the mirror. I had a busted lip and a swollen eye, along with new scratches on my forehead. I had more bruises all over my body, but I was pretty sure nothing was broken. At least, I hoped so.

Once again, I wished I would’ve kept my mouth shut about my sexuality and acted like everyone else. I shouldn’t have told anyone, even if it meant I’d never find love. Being completely alone was a lot more horrible than that. No one would love me anyway, and now I didn’t even have anyone to talk to.

Just before I was ready to leave for school, I checked my left arm. I’d never told anyone about the scars I was hiding under my sleeve. No one cared anyway. I had no one, no friends or relatives, who would listen. All I had left was a mean, drunken dad and an asshole as a brother, and neither of them cared. Actually, Allen would be thrilled if he ever saw the scars I had done to myself.

They were sore, but healing. I would need to do something about them soon, but at that moment I didn’t have the time. I was already late for school, so I rolled my sleeve back down and grabbed my bag before running out of my room.

Allen had already left. Good. I had to walk to school, and I was better off not doing so with him. I’d ended up in ditches way too many times already because of him. He had tried to push me under a passing car a few times too, so it was a miracle I was still alive.

The weather was chilly, as it always was in late January. The holidays were long gone, and life was returning to normal. I hadn’t enjoyed the holidays. I’d spent those days hiding in my room the entire time, while Allen spent that time visiting our aunt, Sheila. Dad had invited his drinking buddies to our home, so my Christmas had been loud, obnoxious and smelling like beer and bodily fluids. At least I’d been left alone, with no one picking on me.

I didn’t have a jacket on me when I stepped outside. I’d saved some money to buy a new one, but it got destroyed on the same day when I bought it since my bullies believed I didn’t need to protect myself from the cold. Thankfully, it hardly ever snowed, but the air was cold, especially during the nights.

I kept sneezing as I walked. I was probably getting sick after spending the night outside in the rain. All the coughing hurt my stomach and sides, but I still kept going. Sometimes I felt like passing out, but I didn’t want to go back home.

It took me twenty-five minutes to arrive at school, my personal hell. The classes had already started a long time ago, so I decided to skip the first period.

I had considered dropping out more than once, but I knew my mom wouldn’t have wanted that. She’d been the only person who had ever truly loved me. She was the best mom anyone could ever have, and I still loved her to death. I knew it would kill her again if she heard I had dropped out. She was the reason I still tried my best, even though she was already dead.

She got cancer four years ago and died six months later, just before my fourteenth birthday. After that, I never celebrated my birthdays. They only reminded me of her death.

I thought about her while I walked around the main building to the back, and hid behind the thick, tall bushes where I’d been hiding from Sean and his buddies the day before. No one could see me hiding there, not even if they tried. I had loads of hiding places everywhere around the school since I had to stay hidden all the time. My bullies were everywhere, and no one was interested in helping me, so it was my only option.

I decided to do some homework since I didn’t get to do any of it last night. I sat down next to the wall where I had just enough room to move around a little. I grabbed my half-torn schoolbooks from my bag and tried to do my best, even though some pages were missing.

Soon I got interrupted when I heard laughter nearby. I saw movement on the other side of the bushes, and I recognized the pair of boots walking past my hiding place.

It was Deon Steele, the troublemaker. I moved a little to see him making out with some girl behind the corner. He had black chinos and a white ripped T-shirt with text on it. He had a chain belt, black combat boots and leather gloves, making him look like a rock star or a gang member. His shoulder-length hair was dyed black, but the tips were white, and he had a lot of piercings in his ears, eyebrows and his lower lip. I’d heard that he had two more piercings on his tongue.

I had to be very careful when I moved around because of him. He was skipping classes even more often than I did, and used a lot of the same hiding spots I did so he wouldn’t get caught. More than once, I’d run into him while trying to hide from the others, so I had to be careful even when no one seemed to be around, because he sure was scary. He hated my guts like the rest of them, but there was something really intimidating about him, something even Sean didn’t have.

I tried to concentrate on my math book, but the girl who had the pleasure of hanging out with Deon that day was giggling way too loudly. I didn’t know her name, but I knew she was a member of the cheerleading squad. She was most likely the captain herself. Deon, on the other hand, wasn’t on any of the sports teams, and he wasn’t that popular either, but the girls were really attracted to him, and I could see why. I did understand why. He was ridiculously hot with his dark eyes and rebellious attitude.

But he was not Beau… God, I missed Beau so much…

I sighed at the memory of him. I put my books away and rolled up the left sleeve of my hoodie to look at my scars again. I had carved Beau’s name on my arm with a razor blade. Whenever the scars healed, I cut the lines again, so I’d never forget him.

I didn’t want to forget all the good things Beau used to make me feel. The butterflies in my stomach whenever he looked at me… The way my heartbeat grew faster whenever I heard his voice…How I blushed whenever Beau laughed with me.

And… I didn’t want to forget that devastating feeling when Beau had called me a sick, disgusting fag for the first time. His cruel words had ripped my heart and soul apart, and ever since that day, I hadn’t felt anything good anymore. Beau, the guy I still loved, had made me realize what kind of miserable excuse of a human being I truly was, and that I was never supposed to be happy.

Never.