My days are short and nights are long. I can't sleep, because every time I close my eyes I see my Mom's face. My Mom's terrified face looking in my direction. I was hiding behind some bushes, mouthing the words "look away" as tears cascaded down her face. I don't get any further into the horrid memory than that, because my eyes snap open, only to soon fall back down in a miserable cycle. I go through this every night. Reliving the day my Mom was murdered.
Soon after her death I started falling apart. My grades started plummeting and I picked up drinking. My Dad was so grief stricken that that he just got up and left. I don't know where he went or what he did, but he just left. He left his wallet, keys, the car, and the house, all of it. He left me here alone in an empty house to fend for myself.
After my Dad left, and since no one knew where he was, I was brought to my Aunt Aylaen's. I lived there for several months. It was only a matter of time before I gave into depression and started cutting myself. When she found out I was cutting she took me to a rehabilitation center for people like me, so I could get "help". It didn't really work. I went to some daily group sessions and they gave me some pills I had to take for my depression. After about three months of acting like I was getting better, they "deemed me fit to return to society" or some shit like that, but I immediately went back to drinking and cutting.
The only people that knew I was cutting were my drinking buddies and the people at the rehabilitation center, and my cousin. My drinking buddies Karl, who buys all the alcohol because he's the oldest at twenty-one, Trevor, Cindy, who's a huge slut, and Tarry all said that I'm brave for doing it because their booze enhanced logic makes them think that if you hurt yourself on purpose in any way, you mustn't be afraid of getting hurt.
While the people at the center like Chris, the counselor who I still have to call every week, Shane, my sponsor, which is just a person who is responsible for you when you leave the center, and Ana, the girl that I really liked, all said that it's stupid of me to cut because I was hurting the people closest to me. They didn't say it in those exact words, but that's what I thought they were saying.
But the truth is I'm just tired. I'm tired of living in this hollow shell. I'm tired of not knowing when I'll feel again with having to hurt myself or drink. And I'm just really tired of life and how crappy it is.
My name is Leo and get ready, because I'm about to tell you a story about my miserable life.
A/N: Thanks to those who read this and thanks to my BETA MyWeirdWorld. This is just a prologue. If you like it and want to read more then please tell me so in a review. Thanks.