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[YOUSHOULDKILLYOUSELF]
Aiden startled awake. He winced subconsciously when he aggravated a slash wound from last night's endeavors.
Those stupid thoughts, the ones that told him to cut, to bleed, they just wouldn’t go away. Maybe he deserved it. Deserved all of this.
A loud crash and Aiden’s mother came stumbling into his room—bottle in hand—already wasted senseless. It was only 7:00am. But as per routine, she stumbled in further, bottle raised, and brought it down with a sickening CRASH onto Aiden’s chest.
“Thas-thas wha you get ya lil-lil-fag. Faaaaaggggggg. Thas wha-wha youuu are.”
Aiden just stared, unimpressed as his mother hiccuped and fell to the floor. His covers had taken most of the glass, but a couple pieces wormed their way into Aiden’s chest, shallow cuts [Unfortunatly] (shut up) but they still caused red to well up and ruin his sheets.
With a sigh, Aiden swung his legs over the side of the bed, walking straight toward his mother who was giggling drunkly to herself; choosing to ignore the glass digging into his feet [Good. You deserve the pain] (Fuck off).
He lifted his mother with extreme effort and walked silently to her room, dropping her rather unceremoniously onto her king-sized bed.
He padded back to his room and examined his chest, grumbling as he removed the shards one piece at a time, using spider-man themed Band-Aids to stop the bleeding as he moved onto his foot which was quite a bit more injured than his chest [Make the wound deeper, bleed out, no one will care. Do it. Do it. DO IT BITCH.] (Not now fucker).
His father choose that moment to walk into his (Doorless, cause he can’t get any fucking rights in this shitty house) room, eyes blazing with anger. There were two sides to his father, anger, or a predatory hunger Aiden was petrified of [Scared? Of what? They just treat you like they're supposed to, like a doll. Something to be used then discarded. Because you. Don’t. M A T T E R]
…
Aiden hardly even noticed when he was being hit. His brain was still muddled with sleep, but after a couple slaps his senses quickly woke up as he glared at the ugly face of his father. He had been hoping to avoid this so early, especially on a school day. Luckily, his father wasn’t all that stupid and didn’t hit his face. That would just get CPS called, and nobody wanted that. But as bruises formed along his sternum, Aiden’s mind felt detached, like it was a balloon only tethered to him by a single thread.
Even as his body felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to it, he didn’t cry out, eyes cloudy as he dully registered his father throwing him to the floor as he began kicking Aiden, adding to the already painful damage was the glass shards that were now deeply embedded in Aiden’s skin.
All the while, Aiden was just thinking This couldn’t have waited until after school? He did have a bus to catch in less than thirty minutes. At the thought of the bus,he got a sick feeling in his stomach as he pushed himself onto his elbows, looking at his father with his best ‘We’ll continue this later’ eyes as he shakily got up [Feel the pain. That’s what you deserve. You're nothing but a waste of space. Pain is payback for you existing] (We’ll continue this later goes for you too bitch).
His father didn’t really get the message, so Aiden pushed down the disgusted feeling withering in his gut as he placed a hand on his fathers shoulder and whispered in his ear that he had to catch the bus, but he would be back by four. A wicked grin stretched on the man's face as he gave his sons {*Pardon me as I throw up while writing this part* } ass a firm squeeze, then walked out the door like a lion who knew a feast would be arriving soon.
Aiden was…going to fucking regreat that shit.
But for now, Aiden had to get ready for *hurk* SCHOOL. Fucking disgusting. He groaned and stumbled into the bathroom, bracing himself before looking in the mirror. He hates the fact that he sleep shirtless, so in the morning he has to deal with the pathetic sight of his mangled torso. But his father ‘insisted’ (Read: forced) him to whether it was for his own sadistic pleasure of seeing Aiden in pain or the revolting sex appeal, Aiden didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.
Bruises made his skin look like a storm, dark patches covering most of his abdomen as blood dripped from the many lacerations the glass made. Aiden felt like punching his fathers fugly ass face, but he took a deep breath and focused on the controllable. He glass. He got more Band-Aids and repeated the process he did earlier, this time having to do the same for his legs which had (Surprisingly) gotten the brunt of the injuries. He was only left with a measly five minutes to brush his teeth, put his contacts in, get dressed and sprint to the bus.
When he gets to the stop a very tall boy is waiting for him. Before Aiden reaches him, he combs a hand through his hair and fixes up his very oversized smiley-face sweatshirt, one of his favorites. [You don't deserve anything. Your should run in front of the bus, do everyone a favor] (A full five minutes without you and you decide to fucking ruin it. Basterd) He throws on one of his signature grins as he reaches the boy, running up to Ben with a manic smile stitched on his face.
“HEY BENNYBOOP!!!!!!!!!!!!”
He screeches as he vaults himself onto the bus stop's run down bench. [Vault yourself off a roof next] Ben shoots him a worried glance accompanied by a small smile at his ridiculous antics. Aiden returns the smile with his ever present one which is significantly less soft and tries not to wince at the feeling of his cuts being aggravated by the rough landing, opting instead for talking about every little thing that comes to his mind until the bus comes to a screeching stop in front of the pair.
Aiden nearly has a panic attack from the sound and fights the overpowering urge to cover his ears as he boards the disgusting vehicle. Is his option, buses need to be yote as much as his thought do.