FicWad

Franks POV.

I hate my life more than anything.
My dad abuses me because i'm gay, he has done ever since I came out. My mother was my only support, yet she ran out on us a couple of days ago. I get bullied at school, the familiar terms of “fag” and “loser”. I have one friend, Ocean. One of the only people who was ever there for me was my sister, and she was murdered two months ago. I’m fat, I’m ugly. I’m a worthless piece of shit and I didn’t deserve to live, something my dad told me regularly.
So maybe I would do what he wanted? Rid myself from this shitty, unfair world?
I glance over at my window, September raindrops caressing my window with such care, the moon shining brightly in the background. Trees swaying gently in perfect time with the wind, leaves on the floor dancing with the wind and the trees.
Nature is so beautiful. It’s just a shame I’m not. Just like modern day society – I am ugly.

I want to end my life right now. Just looking at what I’m looking at-it’s perfect. If this was going to be my last moment on earth, I wanted to die looking at this.
But it wasn’t 11 o’clock yet. My father would be coming upstairs to hit me soon. I’ll wait for him... maybe then dying won’t be so painful.

Life never used to be like this.
I had my childhood best friend, Mikey. But he moved away years ago, and we promised to keep in touch. We never did.
I wish we did.
Of course, back then I was unaware I was gay. I had my first kiss with a blonde girl, Noelle. She moved away, too.
I wish she didn’t.
My sister and I were inseparable, she was the only was the only one who was there for me when I came out to my family and my friends – apart from Ocean. When we were younger we would always play in the park, in our garden. Red hands, Noughts and Crosses. Hell, even pillow fights. I miss her. I can’t believe she’s gone.
I wish she wasn’t.
Ocean, my childhood bestfriend. She still is my bestfriend- she didn’t move away like Mikey. I smile at the thought of her long, electric blue hair, with purple ends. Her multiple piercings and illegal tattoos.
I wish she was here with me.
When me and my dad were close – we really were close. But then one year ago when he found out I was gay, when I told him, when I excepted support... well, that was when I received my first ever punch to the face. When he told me he hated me.
I wish he didn’t do that. I wish he loved me.
My mother was always here. She was pro-gay. It was when she realised the reason my father was abusing me was because of my sexuality that she couldn’t look at my father anymore. Or look at me. So she left.
I wish she was here.
Because as my dad comes up the stairs, I know what’s coming. I know what’s about to happen to me, and I’ve never felt so alone.
But this happens every night. I feel this every night.
So I’m not scared. I’m just alone.
As my door swings open, I flinch. The smell of stale booze and cigarettes fills my room. A smell that I was trained to feel pain upon smelling it.
“You’re a worthless piece of shit, you know.” My dad spits at me, resent filling his voice.
“Don’t, not tonight...” I mutter.
He laughs an evil, malicious night. “You’re a fag, a horrible little boy, and you deserve everything you get.” I feel something collide with my face, and I see a red substance fall upon my lap, blood.

He kicks me in the stomach, and I feel more pain. A single tear runs down my face. He kicks me again, followed by another punch to the mouth.
“You don’t deserve to live.” He spits at me.
“Please, stop.” I cry. It hurts.
He hits me again. And again, and again, and again. I’m used to this.
“Just fuck off!” I spit at him.
He looks shocked. “Don’t talk to me like that you little fag!” he stands on my face and walks out my room, leaving me in a pool of my own blood, leaving me to bleed, as he does every night.

I needed to tell someone so they’d find me. I don’t want to rot here.
So I call Ocean.
“What?” She answers groggily.
I’ve woke her up, but she needs to here this.
“Ocean... I- I’m sorry. P-please don’t... don’t forget me. I love y-you.” I groan.
I dont know how i'm supposed to do this... but i think im dying anyway. This is the worst beating ive had in a while.
I bash my head on my floor, hoping i make it worse. I do, and more blood hits the floor. I use the last of my energy to throw my body against the walls. I bounce to the floor in a pool of blood.
Every memory from my past rushes into my head. Mikey. My sister. Ocean. My mother. Back when my dad didn’t hit me. My first kiss. Coming out. Being abused. Mikey leaving. Holding my sister as she dies in my arms.
Everything.
And I glance over to the window, as I want it to be my last sight. Then I close my eyes, and hope I don’t open them.