You're My Last Hope (Under Edit)

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

I winced as dad dropped me on the ground, but didn't move. I didn't have enough strength to move. He muttered something, but I was way too out of it to hear what he said. I didn't want him to stop though. I mean, I wanted him to, but I felt like I didn't deserve for him to. After what I did to Anthony, I didn't feel like I even deserved to have a beating heart. But, sadly, it was still beating in a steady beat. I took in a deep breath, forcing myself to stand up and walk to my bathroom. I was lucky enough for dad to bring me to my room to beat me up. I didn't have to walk too far to get to my razor that way. I collapsed once I got to the counter and had my razor in my hand. I leaned against the wall and rolled up my sleeve, pressing my razor into it. I couldn't stop thinking about Anthony. I wondered what he was doing. He was probably writing in his journal thing. He was probably writing about how bad of a friend I was. It was funny really; I was so scared to make friends because I didn't want to get hurt, yet here I was hurting the people who were my friends just as much.

Eventually, I dropped my razor. I don't know how many cuts were on my arm, all I knew was my pale skin was completely buried by blood. I didn't care though. I didn't even bother taking time to clean up. I knew no one would care about the blood on my arm or on the ground. No one ever comes into my room except me now that mom was gone, unless dad wanted to beat me. But he wouldn't care. He'd just tell me I deserved it. I just dragged myself to my bed and climbed into it, burying my face into mom's pillow and sobbing as quietly as I could. I didn't need dad or Marley or Jeff to come in here and see me while I was this vulnerable, especially dad. I just cried until I passed out from either blood loss or exhaustion, probably from both.

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My eyes snapped open at the sound of my phone going off. The alarm. It was time to get up. It was time for school

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see Anthony. There was no doubt that he would be with the jocks today. He'd probably help Rodger beat me up. If he didn't, he'd just do what the other jocks do and shove me around. I've lost count on how many times I've been tripped walking down the hallway. That's why I always try to walk by the lockers. It was harder to trip me then. But it was easier to shove me into the lockers that way. I just honestly didn't care anymore about it. I forced myself out of my bed and walked to my dresser, grabbing a pair of skinny jeans and a Panic! At The Disco shirt. I walked to the bathroom and started the water in the shower, sighing and taking off my clothes from yesterday. I quickly got in and washed off all the blood from last night, biting my lips to keep in my whimpers. The water felt more like sharp needles hitting against all the scars. I hated showers. The water hitting against all my bruises and scars just caused more pain than I could take sometimes. I quickly got out once I was done with the shower. I quickly dried my hair and body, slipping on my clothes and straightening my hair. I grabbed my beanie and a purple winters jacket Cody gave me, putting them both on. Cody had given the jacket to me, telling me he didn't need it. He said he had gotten a new one and knew I needed a new jacket. I didn't want to take it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He said it was just an early Christmas present. I sighed as I walked downstairs. I hoped no one was there. Surprisingly, only Jeff was. He was eating breakfast in the living room. He looked up and me and gave me a smile, but I didn't return it. I just looked down and walked out the door.

"Dude wait!" I heard him yell, running after me. I didn't stop walking, but I did slow down a bit for him. He ran to my side and looked up at me, smiling. I looked up a bit a gave him a small smile. He puts out his hand.

"We haven't officially met yet. I'm Jeff." I shyly take his hand and shake it, immediately looking down and walking off after I did.

Jeff didn't look like I thought he would. He was little. He was in ninth grade and probably wasn't any taller than a sixth grader. He had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes. He wasn't very pale, but at the same time he wasn't very tan. He was wear blue jeans and a white hoodie with his hood pulled over his head. I think he was fourteen, but he looked more like he was ten. He was just so short and his voice was kinda high pitched. He reminded me of a child, which I guess was what he was.