A.N.- Okay so I decided to do an "origins" sort of thing. So this is just little flashes of the character's life from the time they were born up until...well, whenever XD It just shows how they grew to be who they were! This is my first time writing this kind of thing, so I hope it's not too bad! 

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                “Hi Ethan,” Greg said, smiling down at the baby, tears in his eyes.

                “Ethan Alexander,” Mary said and kissed his forehead gently. The baby stirred in her arms.

                Her body was sore and she was exhausted and sweaty, but she had never been happier in her entire life. Greg wiped at his eyes and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, squeezing it.

                “He’s going to be great,” Greg whispered, imagining all the things he could do with his son as the boy got older.

                “Mommy and daddy love you Ethan,” Mary said, her smile so wide it hurt, because Ethan was finally here in their arms after all these months, and they were parents, and this boy was beautiful.

                Ethan slept in her arms and she kissed him, loving him, seeing the love in Greg’s eyes for him. She couldn’t wait to give this boy the best life they possibly could.

                                                                                                ***

                Ethan glanced at his mom and she gave him an encouraging smile. He released her hand and she kissed him before leaving.

                He wandered into his preschool class, looking at all the kids. He grew eager, because he didn’t have any friends other than his two cousins.

                He hurried over to a small group of kids playing with a toy castle. They glanced at him as he came over.

                “Can I play?” he asked, smiling.

                “You’re short,” a girl said, and they all laughed.

                His smile faltered, but he forced it back. “Can I play, please? The bad guys can attack the castle and we can defend it!”

                “No. You’re weird,” another girl said, and the others laughed again. They turned their backs to Ethan and he frowned.

                He sat down by himself, watching the other kids play together. He got up a little while later, going over to a toy house where the kids were playing.

                “Can I come in, please?” he asked shyly.

                “Hey, that’s the weird kid!” one of the boys who had been playing with the castle earlier said, pointing at him. “Don’t let him in, he’s weird!”

                “You can’t come in!” the boy in front of the door said, pushing Ethan back.

                Ethan turned away from them as they all started to laugh. He went over to the corner of the room, curling up, and trying to ignore the laughter as it continued, fighting off tears. Why were they so mean?

                                                                                                ***

                “NO!”

                “Ethan, please,” Mary begged, trying to coax him out of the car.

                “I won’t go!” he screamed, gripping the door handle as she tried to drag him out.

                “Ethan, you have to go to school,” she said, forcing herself to keep her patience, because she knew that he didn’t have friends.

                “No! They’re mean!” he said, tears coming to his eyes. They spilled over onto his cheeks as he gripped the door handle tighter. “I won’t go! No, no, no! I hate school!”

                Mary managed to wrestle him out of the car, and carried the struggling boy into the school. The other kids snickered as his mom tried to soothe him before leaving.

                “The cry baby is back!” one of them cried, and the laughter started again, and Ethan sank down, crying harder, ignoring the teacher as she tried to comfort him, and he hated that laughter so much, he hated it, he hated them, he hated every last one of them.

                                                                                                ***

                Tears ran down Ethan’s cheeks as he gripped the razor. Blood was crawling down his leg.

                The room was dark, and he had school in the morning, but he just couldn’t sleep. His diary was open next to him.

                “I can’t stop,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t stop. I can’t stop. Something is wrong with me. I can’t stop. Help. Please help.”

                He slit his leg again, hissing at the pain, hating that he couldn’t stop, because at least he could still feel something, anything, even if it was pain.

                “I can’t stop,” he sobbed, rocking himself, placing the razor on his leg, sliding it across again. He forced himself to throw the razor, watching as it landed on the ground.

                He gripped his head tightly. “I hate it. I hate them. I hate me,” he whispered.

                He looked down at his legs, hating the cuts and scars there, hating the alarm clock that screamed out the time at him, hating the silence that hung heavy around him, hating the way his father looked at him, hating the kids and their damn laughter, hating himself, hating everything and wishing those stupid kids would all just die, die slowly and reflect on their regrets, and oh how he hated them all and how he hated himself and his scarred legs and the blood and the pain and the laughter.

                “Make it stop,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Just make it all stop.”

                                                                                                ***

                “Rio, stop being so sarcastic!” his aunt said sternly to his cousin.

                “Sarcastic?” Ethan questioned.

                Rio nodded. “Uh-huh. Mom says I’m sarcastic.”

                “You are!” Ethan’s other cousin, Hank, said. “It’s bad, Rio. It’s also annoying.”

                Rio ignored him. “Sarcasm is like…if mom said ‘did you have a good time’ and you say ‘no they tortured me’,” he said. “It’s like joking.”

                “Oh,” Ethan said.

                “Don’t teach him!” Hank said, glaring.

                Rio continued to ignore him. “It’s really good when people are being mean to you, because it’s like joking right back!”

                Ethan nodded slowly, liking the sound of this. Maybe he would give sarcasm a try.

                                                                                                ***

                “Oomph!”

                Jude Tibbits drilled his fist into Ethan’s stomach again and Ethan groaned. Jude threw him to the floor and kicked him. He turned to walk away and Ethan looked up, feeling sore.

                “It’s hard to be mad when you’ve got an ass like that,” he said.

                Jude spun around, glaring. He went over and kicked Ethan again, making Ethan winced in pain.

                “How many times do I have to tell you to stop hitting on me?” Jude demanded furiously.

                “It’s hard not to. You’re really hot,” Ethan said with a shrug, and winced again as Jude kicked him. “Ow, that was not pleasant. You’re hot, but you’re a total dick.”

                “Sarcastic loser,” Jude snarled and stormed away from him.

                “He’s totally gay,” Ethan mumbled, shaking his head. He watched Jude go, and something in his mind screamed his hatred for the dark boy, and oh how he wished that damn kid would just die, die already.

                “Stop,” Ethan whispered, standing up. “I am such a pessimist.”

                Sarcasm. Sarcasm. Sarcasm. Sarcasm was better than the darkness, than those horrible thoughts, and he would rather drown himself in a façade of smiles and sarcasm than show his true bitterness anymore.

                                                                                                ***

                They grabbed him, dragging him towards the cars. Ethan let Nate and Landon pull him, struggling weakly.

                “Hey Ethan!” Nate said cheerfully.

                “Can we skip the cheerfulness and get to the part where you hit me? I’m really hungry, so if we could make this beating quick, that would be fantastic,” he said.

                “If you insist!” Landon said, smirking and punching Ethan.

                They tackled him, punching him, kicking him, bringing him to his knees. Landon held him there as Nate continued attacking him, and then he heard an angry voice, and he looked up and saw a boy running towards the parking lot, and things were about to get so much better than he could’ve ever dreamed.