Original Fiction: Broken [2/14]
Title: Original Fiction: Broken [2/14]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Warning: Mention of self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and physical abuse.
POV: 1st, Chance
Summary: Chance, 18 years old and the main character, has multiple mental disorders, all of which are either undiagnosed or untreated, and lives with his best friend, Nate. Nate, 17, is mostly sane and logical, but tends to be oblivious to the hell going on around him. Megan, Nate's troubled 16 year old girlfriend, has problems with her mother because of her issues with men and dated Chance a few years prior. This is their story.
Word Count: 626 [this part]; 8,753 [total]
Author Notes: Based on semi-realistic events that happened to either myself or my friends.
Ch. 1 : Ch. 3 : Ch. 4 : Ch. 5 : Ch. 6 : Ch. 7
Ch. 8 : Ch. 9 : Ch. 10 : Ch. 11 : Ch. 12 : Ch. 13 : Ch. 14
My arm was definitely broken. He didn't believe me, but it was broken.
"Chance, if it doesn't hurt to move it, I don't think it's broken, man."
"It's broken. I know it is." Because I watched them break it.
"Look, Dad will be home later, I'll get him to look at it. But I'm pretty sure it's fine."
I rubbed my arm carefully. It didn't feel broken, and it didn't hurt. But I knew it was. It had to be. I had been sitting at home, minding my own business. Then she came in with him, and they beat me. They broke my arm. I saw it. "Okay."
Nate gave me one of those funny looks he always gives me and turned back to the computer. We were just sitting there, listening to music and smoking cigarettes. Chris was supposed to come over soon and take us hiking in the park. I was a little nervous about that. Last time they lost me in the woods. But that's okay, cause this time I have the hare. The white hare. Hare, hair. Hair, hare.
I took a drag on my cigarette as I looked carefully at my roommate. My friend. My brother. We weren't really brothers. Just blood brothers. Blood.
I suddenly had the urge to punch something, so I hit my leg. Nate glanced at me, but he's used to it. Used to me. I always punch things. Glass bottles, walls, people, myself. It's just something I do.
There was a knock at the door, and Chris walked in.
"Hey, guys, how's it going? You guys ready to go hiking?"
I bleated like a goat and started head-banging to the song that was playing.
Nate just kind of chuckled and said, "He means yes."
He understands me like no one ever could. He's like a fucking god, my god. He takes everything I do in stride and just deals with it, unlike some people who just freak out when they see the scars, the burn marks, the blood. Blood. He understands it all. He's like a guardian angel, all mine.
"Uhm, alright then, let's go."
I don't really remember going out there much, to tell you the truth. It slips my memory. But I do remember when we got back. The phone was ringing, so Nate picked it up.
"Hello? Oh, hey dear."
It was his girlfriend. I hated her. She was such a bitch to me and everyone else. Such a fucking bitch. She'd never understand me, no matter what Nate and I told her.
"You okay, dear? You sure? Okay. You sure you don't want me to come over?"
No, don't leave me here, Nate. I need you. "Tell her she's a bitch."
He turned and gave me a look, but kept talking. "I'll be over there as soon as I can, okay? I'll have to walk, Chris already left and Dad's not here."
There was no one here but us two.
"Okay. I love you Megan. Bye."
He was leaving me. I knew it. He was never coming back. He was leaving me for her and never coming back, that backstabbing little bitch.
"I'm going over to Megan's for a little bit, she's not doing too good. I'll be back around eight or nine."
Don't leave me. Please, god, don't leave me alone. "Alright."
I watched him as he walked out the door and into the coming night. I closed the door behind him and wondered if killing myself would bring him back. Or hurting myself really really bad. I would have thought about it really hard, but I was distracted by the good music coming from the computer still. I finally decided to collapse on my bed and try to sleep.
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A/N: More of my work here.
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Warning: Mention of self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and physical abuse.
POV: 1st, Chance
Summary: Chance, 18 years old and the main character, has multiple mental disorders, all of which are either undiagnosed or untreated, and lives with his best friend, Nate. Nate, 17, is mostly sane and logical, but tends to be oblivious to the hell going on around him. Megan, Nate's troubled 16 year old girlfriend, has problems with her mother because of her issues with men and dated Chance a few years prior. This is their story.
Word Count: 626 [this part]; 8,753 [total]
Author Notes: Based on semi-realistic events that happened to either myself or my friends.
Ch. 1 : Ch. 3 : Ch. 4 : Ch. 5 : Ch. 6 : Ch. 7
Ch. 8 : Ch. 9 : Ch. 10 : Ch. 11 : Ch. 12 : Ch. 13 : Ch. 14
My arm was definitely broken. He didn't believe me, but it was broken.
"Chance, if it doesn't hurt to move it, I don't think it's broken, man."
"It's broken. I know it is." Because I watched them break it.
"Look, Dad will be home later, I'll get him to look at it. But I'm pretty sure it's fine."
I rubbed my arm carefully. It didn't feel broken, and it didn't hurt. But I knew it was. It had to be. I had been sitting at home, minding my own business. Then she came in with him, and they beat me. They broke my arm. I saw it. "Okay."
Nate gave me one of those funny looks he always gives me and turned back to the computer. We were just sitting there, listening to music and smoking cigarettes. Chris was supposed to come over soon and take us hiking in the park. I was a little nervous about that. Last time they lost me in the woods. But that's okay, cause this time I have the hare. The white hare. Hare, hair. Hair, hare.
I took a drag on my cigarette as I looked carefully at my roommate. My friend. My brother. We weren't really brothers. Just blood brothers. Blood.
I suddenly had the urge to punch something, so I hit my leg. Nate glanced at me, but he's used to it. Used to me. I always punch things. Glass bottles, walls, people, myself. It's just something I do.
There was a knock at the door, and Chris walked in.
"Hey, guys, how's it going? You guys ready to go hiking?"
I bleated like a goat and started head-banging to the song that was playing.
Nate just kind of chuckled and said, "He means yes."
He understands me like no one ever could. He's like a fucking god, my god. He takes everything I do in stride and just deals with it, unlike some people who just freak out when they see the scars, the burn marks, the blood. Blood. He understands it all. He's like a guardian angel, all mine.
"Uhm, alright then, let's go."
I don't really remember going out there much, to tell you the truth. It slips my memory. But I do remember when we got back. The phone was ringing, so Nate picked it up.
"Hello? Oh, hey dear."
It was his girlfriend. I hated her. She was such a bitch to me and everyone else. Such a fucking bitch. She'd never understand me, no matter what Nate and I told her.
"You okay, dear? You sure? Okay. You sure you don't want me to come over?"
No, don't leave me here, Nate. I need you. "Tell her she's a bitch."
He turned and gave me a look, but kept talking. "I'll be over there as soon as I can, okay? I'll have to walk, Chris already left and Dad's not here."
There was no one here but us two.
"Okay. I love you Megan. Bye."
He was leaving me. I knew it. He was never coming back. He was leaving me for her and never coming back, that backstabbing little bitch.
"I'm going over to Megan's for a little bit, she's not doing too good. I'll be back around eight or nine."
Don't leave me. Please, god, don't leave me alone. "Alright."
I watched him as he walked out the door and into the coming night. I closed the door behind him and wondered if killing myself would bring him back. Or hurting myself really really bad. I would have thought about it really hard, but I was distracted by the good music coming from the computer still. I finally decided to collapse on my bed and try to sleep.
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A/N: More of my work here.