---Patrick---

One.

The first punch is in my chest, right under the place where my neck meets my shoulder.

The second makes me yell out as Dad hits me over the head. I try to block out his fist but I can't, and I end up sobbing, breaking much earlier than I usually do. I can't hold back my emotions as he hurts me, I'm crying and begging, tears streaming from my eyes at each hit. I fucking hate it.

I hate being this pathetic and weak. I hate how he gets to me but we both know his words are true and we both know I deserve this. I don't care what Gerard said about how I don't deserve this, he's wrong. He has to be. He just doesn't know it yet... He doesn't know how much of a disappointment I am. He has yet to see... all of me... He doesn't know how misshapen I am. He doesn't know anything yet... But I still told him so much... Another hit takes me from my thought, back to reality and yet another causes my back to hit the wall.

I beg out a word, hoping, praying he'll obey, "S-stop..."

"Stop? For a stupid mistake like you? You are such a fucking disappointment!" He barks at me, hitting me over and over again, then spits out a sentence that breaks me inside, "I can't believe she left me with a stupid cunt like you."

The tears are streaming down my eyes, and I wish it would just end. I wish he would just leave me alone but I shouldn't. I really am a disappointment, I really am a stupid cunt, I really should have died in The Incident. It would have made everyone's life much easier.

He shoves me against the wall again but this time with my back facing him and I immediately know what's going to happen. My eyes widen in fear, but I don't dare try to move. He could end up hitting me in the eye or something, and I don't want to go to school blind.

Before I can process where we really are in this, my back is on fire, and his leather belt is tearing up my hoodie. I let out a scream in pain, not expecting the fresh pain as he continues to whip my back, each lash replacing old scars and only making it ten times worse.

I keep sobbing, but I stay stone still because I know he'll only hurt me more if I don't. So, I clench my fists, press my forehead to the wall and grit my teeth just waiting for it to end, hoping he'll get bored and I find myself praying again. I find myself begging God to just make it stop. Make it all just end, but God never answers me. Not even in my darkest moments.

My mind flashes back to the living room, the belt coming down on my back yet again. I'm counting each time he hits me. The belt goes down once. Once turns to five times, five times turns to ten, ten turns to twenty. Each strike sends my back tensing and my teeth gritting harder and harder. Each time he pulls the belt back I take a deep breath and try to calm myself, but it's like a jump-scare. I never know when it'll come. I only know that it'll hurt a lot. I can't relax too much because I always have to be ready. Always...

I can't take it when he reaches twenty-five. I'm going to black out from the intense fire licking my skin, unconscious to the ground. I'm getting dizzy, and it takes me a minute to realize Dad's done. I can hear him getting his belt back on soon after walking past the pieces of broken glass, a few crunching underfoot as he walks to the door. He isn't too drunk tonight, but I know he's going out... And I know that just leaves Kevin, Megan, and I... Oh no...

"I'm going to be at the bar, if I hear a single complaint from Kevin, you're dead, you hear, Boy?" He threatens. I nod, turning so my back is against the wall, just enough space to leave an inch between the scars and the cool surface, to release the pain and instead focus on the blood streaming down my back.

He grunts slightly before the door slams shut, shaking the pictures on the walls. As they settle, I work out a plan so I might be able to skip Kevin tonight and just get Megan to work on my wounds. I think Kevin's sleeping in his room so, careful not to wake him, I head to my sister's on light feet, the floor creaking slightly. Not too much, but enough to make me tread lighter.

My back hurts horribly, and I have the urge to double over and puke, but I manage to hold it in. Nothing would come up, anyways, I haven't had anything to eat for a day or so and I know Megan doesn't really force me to eat... she doesn't know.

I let out a sigh running my fingers through my hair. Today was a shitty day. A really shitty day but I don't want to think about it yet... I want to forget for a little while. I want to hurt myself. I need to hurt myself. Or just sleep or just music or... something.

I knock on her door, the white wood cracked and faded under my knuckles because Dad has yet to replace it. There are a lot of things he needs to work on, but with his job and Kevin's, there isn't much they can buy. Just food and whatever they have to pay for to take care of the house and Dad's car. They spend all the free money on beer, and whatever weed Dad can find.

Megan turns the knob, opening the door and her smile fades to empathy as she looks over me. I can feel fresh blood trickling down my nose, and there are several bruises on my sore, sore body, not to mention my back. I hate feeling this way. So pitiful, pathetic, vulnerable...

"Hey, 'Trick."

"C-can you help me with my... Uh... Back..." I whisper shamefully, I should just work my way through the pain because I deserve it, but I know an infection could lead to death. I... don't deserve death, do I? She sighs and pulls me in for a hug, her head on my chest only reminding myself just how short I really am. She soon breaks it to lead me to the bathroom, grabbing some rubbing alcohol and bandages from the cupboard over the sink.

While she gathers supplies, I lay down on my bed, face down but not before hastily pulling off my ruined hoodie and shirt, making sure to keep my scars hidden so she can't see. She's the only person I'll take my shirt off in front of. She never complains about how fat I am, and we've kind of trusted each other with a lot these past few years. Megan and I, we're used to this. The same thing almost every time Dad beats me, but it's different tonight because there's more on my mind. I really don't want to think about it yet.

My phone buzzes. But I ignore it. I don't want to talk to anyone except Megan right now, and I know it's Gerard. Insulting me for being such a dumbass. Can't I tell a friend zone when I see one?

"So why were you out for so long?" She asks, trying to start a conversation while she begins to clean the scars. I grit my teeth from the pain but reply, knowing she's trying to distract me and I'm grateful for that, though, a little hesitant to tell her because she might think I'm stupid, too. But I've trusted her with so much... I mean it couldn't be that bad, could it? Probably...

"Um... Y-you're not... You're not against... Like... Homosexual stuff... Are you?" I ask, stuttering slightly because I really don't want to lose my sister either. That would hurt, badly.

"No, of course not. Why?" I sigh slightly, relieved as she begins to bandage up a wound.

"I... Um... Well, you know Gerard? The boy I talked about a while ago?" I decide to start there...

"Yeah, you've talked about him in the past... What happened?" She asks, curiosity filling her young, pristine voice. How is she so innocent and caring? After everything Dad's done to her, she's still the little girl she was three years ago.

"He..." I trailed off and decided I should probably tell her the whole story, "He invited me to see a parade with him downtown... And we went, and it was a lot of fun... I mean... It was- Ah!"

The stinging is worse, and I have to bite into my pillow to hold back a groan.

"Sorry," Megan apologizes as she only rubs the wound harder, causing more pain and a near scream to leave my mouth, my eyes watering. She pulls the cloth away, relieving the pain and letting a sigh leave my mouth, "So you went to a parade..."

"Right, s-so we went to this parade, and we hung out for a bit. It was kind of a weird thing, but I think I liked it. It was like... dark themed, the flutes were black, and there was a man dressed in completely black and a woman who was completely white, and the marching band was dressed to look like skeletons. It was cool. When it was over, though, we went to a café."

I'm not going to tell her everything, I don't know how she would react if I told her I told Gerard about The Incident, and she doesn't need to know about his past, "And we talked for a while. We went back outside to this bridge a few blocks away from our house... And... Something happened there... H-he's gay... A-and I think I'm gay for him..."

"You're gay for him? What's that supposed to mean?" She asks with a slight chuckle. I'm not grinning, though, I'm completely devastated because I've ruined everything with my only friend.

"Like, I'm not really gay, but I am gay because I would totally fuck him," I whisper, blushing at the words coming out of my mouth without thinking. She bursts out laughing at that, making me laugh, too. Only a little bit because I really think I'm going to kill myself tonight, "Anyways... W-we were on this bridge and... Uh..."

She slows her rubbing at my wounds, letting me think a little straighter, "I... I don't know what happened b-but next thing I knew I was... I-I... kissed him..."

She stops completely, and I'm scared she's going to hurt me, so I stay still, my breathing getting faster. Much to my surprise she continues and replies, "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"

"No, I kissed Ashley," I reply so quietly I'm afraid she can't hear.

"Did he kiss back?" That question kills me inside. I'll never know. I was too much of a coward...

"N-no... I ran away before he could do anything... He doesn't love me, though... Not like that..." I whisper as she bandages the last cut on my back, "He probably never will..."

"How do you know?" She asks.

"I... I don't know... I just... I'm me. Nobody likes me... Hell, all of my friends are gone because I'm such a fuckup..." I reply, my voice getting more and more of a frustrated edge to it as I talk.

"You're not a fuckup." She sighs running her fingers down my back to make sure the bandages are secure, "Trust me."

"I couldn't save her, Megan. I can't even face the guy I like without messing up and making him hate me. I pushed all my friends away because they were annoying. Dad and Kevin are telling the truth. I'm just a stupid cunt. I have anxiety. I almost had a panic attack today just because the hall was crowded." I'm close to tears, "I want to die..."

She yanks me up from the bed rather hard, making me wince slightly but the next thing I know, she's hugging me, her blonde hair tickling my nose, the pink strings on her sweatshirt trailing across my bare chest.

"Don't leave me," She whispers, "Don't you dare leave me. Patrick Stumph, I swear to God. Do you know how much it would kill me? Do you know how much we'd miss you?"

"We? Don't you mean just you? Dad hates me. I'm just Kevin's sex toy at the moment. Gerard hates me. Pete couldn't care less if I died. None of them would. And that's all. Just you. And I'm so fucking close to giving up." The tears are streaming from my face now as I pull away from her embrace. She looks devastated at those words, her face turning from shock to denial to anger.

"Of course Gerard would miss you! Of course, Kevin would miss you! Dad, too. Just because he hurts us doesn't mean he doesn't love us. If you leave, then so will I, don't you dare," She says. I sigh, shaking my head. She doesn't see what I see. She doesn't know what I know. She could never know.

I walk over to my closet, slipping on the first shirt I find which is just a random, gray plaid button-up with long sleeves.

"I'm sleeping with you tonight." She says, "Okay? I don't want you to die..."

I swallow, pulling my sleeves up past my scars but finally agree after a hesitation, "Okay..."

She hugs me again, I hug back, feeling slightly better about myself but I'm still a nervous wreck... I want to leave. I want to leave so badly. Death couldn't be much worse than this, could it? If I took my life, everything could just end, and I would no longer exist... That's hard to process... but it would all be over... And Megan would be alone, too... Nobody to protect her. Would she really take her life with mine? I... I honestly believe it... She's going through just about as much as I am, minus the incest and relationships... I should stay. Just for her... B-Because things can't get much worse than they are now, can they?

Oh yes, they can...

The door swings open, banging against the wall as Kevin barges in. My heart sinks. Really damn far.

"Megan, cover your ears and get out," I mutter into her ear as I pull out of the hug.

"No..." She whimpers, clinging onto my arm.

"Out!" I yell, I'm not letting her get hurt and I'd rather she not have to hear what's about to happen. She looks extremely hesitant, and she won't move but I finally just scream at her, "Now!"

She squeezes past Kevin, fear in her eyes and once she's gone, I'm able to turn my attention up to my brother. He slams the door shut behind himself once Megan is gone and nears me, a smirk across his dark expression. I know exactly what he wants, I know what he came for, and there's really no use in fighting against him anymore. He begins to unzip his jeans, and I drop to my knees, waiting for him to force his way into my mouth. Waiting for that awful taste. That's how it always goes, isn't it? But it never comes.

He pulls me onto the bed, instead, and yanks down my own pants, making me blush self-consciously, trying to cover myself. What the hell is he...? He grunts slightly, pulling down his own pants and it kind of just clicks. Everything clicks into place in my mind, and at that moment I feel scared and exposed and vulnerable. Terrified because I'm about to feel pain on a level I've almost never felt before. I've lost control again. I can't stop him. I have to take it no matter what happens. There is no emergency exit. There is no, "Stop." There's only wanted, begging enduring.

He's going to rape me.

I gasp as he finishes undressing his bottom half and I scramble to get away. I scramble to get out of there, but he restrains me as I yell out a, "No, please."

He yanks me back down by my hair, forcing my face into the bed and I can't escape, I'm trapped, and there's no way out, "Shut up you little slut and take it."

"No, no, no, please," I say a little louder, begging, pleading. This can't be happening. He lets out a stream of desperate curses as he pulls on a condom, much to my surprise, before lining up, "Kevin, please, please, don't!" I sob, tears lining my eyes, "Please, no, no, please, stop! I'm sorry! Please!"

Next thing I know, I'm screaming in agony and begging him to leave. But he won't. Of course, he won't, why would he?

Through it all, though, there's one thought stuck in my mind. Through all this agony and pain, even though it hurts and I want it to go away. As the pain fades to rhythm and I've stopped struggling. I'm staring at my cracked ceiling while Kevin pants above me and even though I'm struggling to remain conscious and my mind is fading into a haze, there's one small thought on my mind. One realization. Another crushed hope.

I'm no longer a virgin.

***

I don't know how long I'm laying there. Taking in everything that just happened. My eyes are wide, and I haven't moved a muscle. I'm so sore, my ass hurts like hell. I doubt I can even stand up, so I'm just laying limp, my mind completely blank. I want to die. Please. Just let me die. I can't take this anymore. I can't take anything anymore. Kevin is gone. He seems happy. Happy. Oh god, I don't think I've ever felt this devastated since The Incident.

My only friend has left me because I was such a selfish, ignorant ass. My sister is mad at me for wanting to die. There are scars on my arms and thighs, scars across my back, scars on my mind. My neck is sore from all the places he's sucked. My voice hurts from screaming. My lower half hurts from... Everything that happened down there... Everything just kind of hurts and I feel like I'm going to fall apart at any moment.

What did I do...? What did I do to deserve a hell like this? Why do they do this to me...? Oh yeah... Cause I killed my mom. I killed her. I'm a murderer.

I don't move, I continue to lay sprawled across the bed. I don't look up at the alarm clock beside my bed. It's not that I'm tired, I just don't have the will to do it. How did I get this far? Faggot, whore, stupid. Ugly, fat, disgusting. Damaged, pathetic, slut. I should cut the words into my skin so I know the truth and I can't forget. Nobody will ever love me. I should just die. I deserve it.

I never cry after he molests me. I never, ever cry, but I think I'm about to. I just need to end it. The bleach is downstairs. There are painkillers in the cupboard above the sink. I have a bathtub and a knife. There are skyscrapers downtown. What would it be like? To finally end it? Would I like it? Would it hurt? What would it be like to feel the rush of wind at my face seconds before death? What would it be like to bathe in my own blood? What would it be like to never wake up again? I'm craving it. I'm craving death, what would Gerard say? He'd probably celebrate. One less loser out of his life. Face it, I'm the only loser in his life. The rest of my old friends knew it, and I know it.

Faggot, are you finally finding your common sense?

There's a knock at the door. I don't reply, only pull my blankets over my cold, pained body.

"Patrick are you alright?" Megan asks.

I don't reply, I only stare at the wall, letting my mind flash over what just happened. His teeth. His lips. His hands. His grip. Dirty. Disgusting. Pig. I should die.

The door creaks open, but I don't move. I can't move. Why would I move? I can barely think straight. I feel dizzy. Loopy.

She crosses my vision, but I don't focus on her, I only grip my pillow and shut my teary eyes. Not a word leaves her mouth as she crawls on top of the covers and lays beside me, her eyes looking downwards at the blanket covering me, "It's gonna get better, Patrick... Someday we'll get out of here. We can be happy..."

I shake my head and reach over Megan, grabbing my phone. There are texts from Gerard, but I ignore them. I don't want to see the stream of insults... I don't want to do anything but lay in bed with comfort from Megan and Billie.

I set one earbud into my ear and offer the other to Megan, she refuses, knowing she'll probably be able to hear it from where she is anyways. I always turn my music up too loud...

I press on the touch screen, shuffling my music. I expect Basket Case or Good Riddance. Maybe even Misfits or State of My Head. But I'm not disappointed when the acoustic guitar begins ringing in my ear followed soon by his voice, bland but relieving,

"Summer has come to pass
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends."

I don't know how long it takes before I'm drifting off to sleep, but my mind is occupied with dreams of the parade, Mikey, and Gerard. And those beautiful, thin lips...

And Megan's soft voice whispering in the distance.

"We'll be okay someday, Patrick...

"I promise..."