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One Blow... I squeek.

Second Blow... I cry

Third Blow... I scream

Forth Blow... I beg...

The daily routine of a forteen year old boy. And it sucks. Big time. Seriously, how do i deserve this? What have i ever done wrong...

Maybe i deserve it. Yeah. I do. Anyone who is different deserves it! Freaks get kicked, normal people get loved. simple. Correct. I deserve it. The deep white likes and dried blood says it all. The died raven hair, the eyeliner the lips that never smile...

I coughed and chocked as Danny's fist forced its self into my stomach, tears streaming down my face. My lip bleed from where i'd bitten it to stop my self from screaming for my mother. Danny ordered his mates, Oakley and Harry who held me to the wall, to drop me. I felt a strange tingling feeling as my body hit the cold, rough ground. I moaned as i lay there. Danny and his hench men laughed at my pain.

"Aww... Poor Gee-Tard! Hurt does it? Poor little emo!" Cooed Danny sarcasticly
"Yea... aww, bless! Why don't you go home and-" Started Oakley
"And cut your self, freak! EEE-Moe-OH!"

I didn't know what hurt more. Their cruel, mocking words or the bruises on my stomach. I was sure i had enternal bleeding, but i tried not to think about it. Though i would of happily died then and there. I just wanted out of this awful pain that sped through my vains like racing cars on the track.

"Its rude not to reply when people are talking to you, Emo" Teased Danny, kicking me in the head.

"Come on! Its got boring now. There might be some sado near the sweet shops that need to be toughened up!" Said Harry, bored that i was no longer replying to the chants and beatings.

"Yea..." sighed Danny, before bending forward so his head was near mine. "One day, you'll thank us..." He whispered in to my ear, his breath was cold and icy. Like he fucking black heart!

They walked off, still shouting 'EMO' over their shoulders.

I pulled my self to my feet. As soon as i was in a upright position, my stomach heaved. I shut my eyes tightly and Moaned and leaned forward, hugging my stomach as i felt its contence bubble. It begin to climb up my insides to my throat, like a hungry animal to its poor, unexspecting pray. I ran to the nearest bin and let out the horrible substance. The smell of the bin made it worse. As the smell of rotting food and old, used trainers filled my nostrals, my stomach heaved once again. My throat felt sharp and worn, and felt like it had been set on fire everytime my lunges pulled in the dirty air of the School's Alley.

I pulled my self away from the discusting bin and fished into my schoolbag. I grabbed the Cancer-Sticks and lighter from the bottom of my bag and lit one. I leaned back against the wall as my body relaxed. So good... Yes so bad. I've been trying quit, but some times I just need one. Its not like i've been smoking long! Only since i was 12, so only 2 years...
My dad has all ways smoked, so one day the 12-year-old me's curiosity got the better of me. I stole a ciggy and a lighter, went to the park, climbed up to the top of the highest tree, lit the cig and sucked. It was heaven, considering i was coughing up my rib cage!
I finished my smoke and dropped the white stick to the ground and stamped it out. I need to get home. Right now, all i need really is a cup of coffee and my bed.

As soon as i walked in the front door, i was bombarded my my little brother, obviously hyper from to many sweets.
"Hiya Gee! Hiya, Hiya! How was school? Mine was good. i had to kiss a tree for a dare. Have you ever kissed tree? I have. Do you like it? I think its better then kissing girls because trees dont where pink, they wear cool colours like, em, em ,em brown and, em, em, em green and em, red and orange..." Gabbled my brother, jumping on toes in front of me.

"Hello Mike. Yes, Mikey, Kissing trees is better then kissing girls!" I saod wearing a fake smile.

"Iknewit!iknewit!IKNEWIT!" He celebrated, before running in to the living room.

I blew out all the air in my lunges, and headed to my room basement room. As i was passing through the kitchen, i was, once again, bombarded by a kid high on smarties.
"Hey Mike, do me a favoure, make me some coffee and bring it down to me" I asked, rushing past, trying to dodge another 'conversation' (if you can call it that!) with Mikey.
I opened the basement door before slamming it behind me. I climbed down the steps until I came to a new door. I opened it and let my self in to my room. I threw my stuff under my desk and calapsed on to my bed, head in pillow. I groad in the pillow, and beated the bed with my feet. Why couldnt life me easier for me?

All my life I'v just had it bad, bad, bad! Bullied, rejected, feelings of being lost... Not to mention my Grandma died last year...
My whole life is just one big epic fail. I angre bubbled through my vains. I got to get it out. I need out. I must get rid of it! i sat up and searched through my bed side table's draw. I rummaged through until i found my wish. I layed down on to my bed, and fiddled with the sharp metal blade in my hand. i pulled my school shirt arm up on my left, revealing the already scarred skin. I looked at the white lines of memory. I ignored them. I pressed the blade against the skin of my arm, and ripped. I bit the inside of my mouth as i felt the lushes pain shot through me. I places the blade on the table before admiring my handy work. I held my arm up above me, allowing the red rain to drip on to my face. Call my crazy, but had to. i had to watch my arm rain... Just to make sure it was all gone... al the pain was gone... all the angre... All of it... gone...