Jake

 Alone. No one to help you, listen to you, love you. Your family doesn't accept you, don't even want you. The only reason they keep you around is so they can have their own personal punching bag, and if you rebel, it will only get worse.

 

Bruises cover your arms, back, body and heart.

Secrets are hidden deep inside you, showing everyone that you are perfectly fine.

You feel hopeless, unwanted, unloved.

You just want to scream, let everyone know that you are not fine.

Your family is far from perfect and so are you.

 

I'm far from perfect, but everyone looks at me like my life is.

 Popularity, is something I don't even notice or care about.

Everyone wants to be friends with Jake! No. I don’t want it. I only have one best friend, who is currently in a hospital. Danni.

Big sports star, but I only do sports to get my anger out.

Great grades like an ordinary person. Like seriously, how hard is it to pay attention, takes notes and actually take the time to study.

A wonderful "girlfriend", that most of the girls are jealous of. A girl who's not even my girlfriend even if she was straight. I guess because we are always together, and hugging, everyone thinks or seems to wonder if we are a thing. I wish. I’ve known Danni since the second grade. It’s kind of a funny story. I remember I was playing with a block and She came over, asked to join then took off with it. I hated her for the longest time, until tenth grade when we were paired together in chemistry. Since then, we’ve been inseparable.

 

All you hear in the halls is, "JAKE JOHNSON, this great looking junior, with surfer blonde hair and deep blue eye's you can get lost in. His smile is so sexy."

 

But all I see is, Jake Johnson, an ordinary guy with longish blonde hair, blue eyes and a normal smile, and what my family see's is no one. To my family, my younger brother is the big shot athlete with the great looks and everything. Everyone loves the normal, brown wavy hair, and eyes.

 

You know that saying, "If you have brown eyes, than your full of s**t?” Yeah, that goes for my younger brother Chris. He can get away with almost everything, especially lying. He’s more of a half brother than a full brother, and I don’t even consider him that. He’s my mom and stepdad’s son, spoiled and a fat lazy a*s. Probably one of the clumsiest people I know. Always running into something, and breaking s**t, but I get the blame.

 

"Mom! Jake broke the vase."

"You little s**t!" She's yelling, stumbling out of her smoke covered room. Tripping over her feet as she's about to be about an inch from my face.

"Look what you did!” she slurs her words, the smell of alcohol is overpowering, it nearly knocks me over.

"No wonder why your father doesn't want anything to do with you! Wait till Shawn gets home."

Shawn is my thirty-two year old stepdad, whose income and barley support our house, but he wastes it on beer and tobacco for him and my forty year old mother. It’s obvious he’s only with her for the money.

 

As she walks away, Chris just stands there laughing. "Nobody wants you." He’s right… nobody wants me, not even my own father. He left before I was even born, leaving my mom pregnant and suffering through drug and alcoholic addiction. It got to the point where when I was three, we lived on the streets, during that time she allowed me to starve, so she wouldn’t go into withdraw. Even then, all the money went to her addictions. It’s sad how selfish a mother can be.

 

I'm cleaning the broken glass when I hear the door slam behind me. Shawn is mumbling something, as he gets his daily beer.

"What the f**k did you do now?" I can hear him trying to breath over me. That’s what happens when you get a beer belly.

"Ummm...tripped." I tried to mumble, but his hand is pulling the back of neck like you would do to a dog.

"Why do you have to be such a damn klutz? Jesus, it's like you don't know how to walk dumbass." 

He's still grabbing onto my neck, but now his grip is more of a choke. As he's yelling in my face, spit is flying from his mouth and he drops me on in the pile of glass. 

 

"If you bleed on my carpet, you will be sorry."

 

I finish up cleaning the glass, and go to the bathroom. My arm is covered in blood, and a huge shard of glass is sticking out. I can feel more digging in my skin. I know I should be feeling an immense amount of pain, but honestly I don’t feel a thing I do, not even my finger tips inching through trying to get more of the pieces of glass out. The only thing I can feel is the hydrogen peroxide cleaning my cuts, as I start wrapping the gauze around my arm. It’s not enough to feel the burning, but enough to actually feel something.

I start to feel dizzy, and I can feel the cool floor hit my face.

"What the f**k are you doing now kid?” I hear someone muffled voice  in the distance, but I'm  afraid if I open my mouth I'm  going to vomit.

 

The bathroom door flies open, hitting me in the face. “Get off the floor!” Now I can tell it’s my mom, trying to get in. I can’t feel my legs or the rest of my body, so I just lay there.

 

“Did you not hear me you?! I said get off the floor.” This time, the door flies open, fully smashing my face in, but I am still unable to move. I look into the mirror and see that my mother is lifting me up by my scalp.

“Maybe this time you will listen to me!” she throws me against the hallway wall. Limp and numb, I start heading for my room. I am still unable to feel my body, and now I’m starting to worry.

 

It’s dark and someone is shaking me. My head is killing me, feeling like it’s about to explode. Nauseated, I try to tell the person to stop, but the light is making the pain is worse. If the unknown person keeps shaking me, I’m going to get sick.

 

“You little s**t!” Hmmm, that was my mom. I’m trying to get up, but I feel something hit my face, and I fall back to the bed. What the f**k, I wonder to myself, but the hitting is still going on. More blood is running down my face and my mom isn’t yelling anymore, she’s screaming. I can smell the vomit and as I open my eyes, I see it went all over her. Serves her right for shaking me.

 

My headache is getting worse, but I feel like I’m going to pass out. I start to think about Danni, wishing she was here to save me.