Chapter 1: Intro to Christian (version 2.0)

This is from Christian's point of view I rewrote my story so that it would be a little better with a better flow, details, and grammar.

A pain was felt on my wrist, I watched as the blood dropped into my sink the red mixing with the running water.  A smirk emerged almost against my will as the relief coursed through me.  I was actually starting to forget all that s**t I was put through.

 

   Maybe I should introduce myself, my name is Christian Taylor. I am seventeen years old, but  I feel like I am thirty. You see I only live with my mother, her name is Reason. My dad, his name was, Christopher.  You see my dad wanted my name to be Christopher, the same as his. To continue the lineage he would say. But my mom liked Christian better, so much so that she even called my dad Christian.  Like every marriage they argued, however every time they argued my mom would come up on top. My dad said it was like arguing with an angry little angel you could try to fight it, but in the end you knew it was right.  Earlier I said his name was Christoper, that is because when I was ten years old he died protecting my mother.  A man had tried to rob my mom, and she ended up feeling bad for the man and tried to talk him into changing his ways before he got into trouble.  My dad didn’t call her an angel for nothing, my mom was always out to help those in need, even if they threatened her. So even though my mom made the man consider his actions for a second, he pointed a concealed gun at her. My dad, knowing that my mom’s best efforts weren’t going to change the man, moved quickly in front of my mother. Because of this the man got scared because he thought my dad was going to fight back. So, out of fear, he shot his gun. This was true love; my dad fell to the ground clutching his wound with his hand but my mom was crying but didn't give up. She had some medical training and tried her best to put pressure on the gun wound.  Normal women would have screamed or faint, but my mom was not like other women, she was strong, despite all the tears blinding her vision she called nine one one.  The cowardly man ran away and no one has seen him since, and even though he killed my father my mother, the angel that she is, said with a smile that she hope the man has turned his head away from crime and is living an honest life.  Now my mom has to work two jobs and I hardly see her. Don’t get me wrong though, my mom loves me and tries her hardest for me and  is always positive.  I do not even remember the last time I saw my mom frowning, I look up to her, and hope to one day be anywhere close to as strong as she is. Though I doubt I can.

 

   I feel a numbing sensation, and the room started to spin. I couldn't help but look around the bathroom, in this state it seemed more beautiful and true to me than ever.  It had pearl tile flooring, baby blue walls, at least what little of the wall you could see. I had a bunch of different band posters covering most of the wall.  I started splashing water onto the gashes.  I looked into the mirror and asked myself, “Why am I doing this…?” The only answer I get back is my reflection staring back at me, white pale skin, about 5’9”, jet black hair with a green streak, my hair is what most people would call the emo cut, or scene cut, it didn’t matter to me, I preferred this hair style because my hair covered one of my eyes completely.  The reason for this being that I have unique eyes. One is green, and its the eye I show to the world. People always tell me that my eyes are beautiful, and I should show them. That is because they assume that my eyes are the same color. They would be wrong, my other eye, is purple.

 

   I started walking back to my dark room and threw myself with the last of my strength onto my queen sized bed that was covered with a midnight blue comforter.  I started staring at my black ceiling as if it was going to tell me the answers to my problems.  What a surprise, no answer. I looked around my room, it was all painted midnight blue and had more posters than the bathroom, also some pictures, concert tickets, autographed items, and other happy memories.  I started reminiscing, thinking of all of those good times, then I saw an autographed poster of the millionaires, I started to remember how I went to their concert and had a good time, just dancing and singing with them.  I was there with Sarah, that’s when all the pain came back and tears started flowing down from my eyes again.  Sarah was my girlfriend, she just broke up with me about an hour ago. She said I wasn't man enough for her and I always brought her down.  It  was around this point I noticed the song playing in the background. It was “Snuff” by Slipknot, it was all too perfect. The thoughts of why Sarah broke up with me though overshadowed the song, I wasn’t a man, and she was right; I was too nice, easily taken advantage of.  It was one of the reasons why I liked Sarah, she never took acted like the others. But it wasn't meant to last I guess. At first she thought the way I didnt fight back and helped others was because I was sweet, but after awhile it started bothering her, she needed a man, not a boy.  I have no anger towards Sarah, I believe she did the right thing. All the anger I had was towards me, and Joseph told me I deserved punishment.  You might wonder who Joseph is; just know he is someone close too me.

  I know I am not alone though, my mother is always by me. believing in me even though its hard too.  I also have a group of friends, but I’m kind of the outcast of them.  There's Felicity, She is my best friend, a guardian angel, she can sense when I am sad and always has open arms for me.  Also Nathan, the a*****e with a secret big heart, he is the one that has the hardest time dealing with me, but I know he cares about me enough to never give up on me.  Then there’s Bernard, he is one of those home school genius kids, he is not like the stereotypes though, with a little help from me and Felicity he dresses different and he acts down to earth, not to mention probably the nicest guy around. Amy, she was the Christian girl out of the group going out with my cousin Drew, she was one of those friends that acted all gangster despite her pink clothes and bright red hair, but when things were serious she would, with the help of God, get us through difficult situations and comfort us through hard times.  Then there was my partner in crime, Mary, she was a little scene girl and it would be really  hard to describe her personality, she was a nice, random girl that wouldn’t take s**t from anyone. Lynn was my child hood friend that dressed emo and she was one of those crowd hoppers that kind of adapted her personality to whoever she was with. Cyndi, was another scene girl and had the same taste in music as I did and we always went to concerts together. She was always laughing, and her Texas accent always made us all smile. She was a freedom fighter and a vegetarian.  Then there was Bernards older sister, Bree, she was a born artist. She was also a home schooled genius but never really cared about socializing, but she always cares about her friends and tries to help. Even if the way she goes about it is a bit more blunt than others.  Last but not least, Steph, she was my diary, childhood friend, Lynn’s younger sister, and one of my best friends.  She dresses a more punk version of scene and created her own style, and sometimes would dress like Melissa from the Millionaires including the big bows.

 

   As I started thinking about all my friends I started to smile, their personalities were like all the colors of the rainbow, but as my tears dried and my frown died I heard Joseph,

“What are you smiling about you little emo.”  I picked up my head to move the pillow I was laying on.  There laid a razor blade full of blood stains, and fresh blood.  Then Joseph continued,

“Understand Christian, those people might be your friends right now but one day they will drop you just like Sarah did, so fast and easy.”

 “But Joseph, they love me, I know them, and they are always there for me and supporting me.”  I felt confident as I gave my comeback but then Joseph replied,

 “Didn’t you feel the same way about Sarah?”  Joseph was right, I picked him up, Joseph was the razor blade I cut myself with, you can say he is like my conscious, it’s hard to explain, especially that I don’t even know the answer to it.  But I keep it to myself and listen to him, believing he was the only truth I had in this world.  I started a full circle ending as I pressed Joseph to my skin.

 

   I woke up the next morning feeling very weak, but it didn’t stop me from going to school. I could never disappoint my mom, and one of the things I did for her was never miss school, it made her so proud.  I took a quick shower and as I was air drying in my room I opened a brown dresser and pulled out some grey skinny jeans, a black armor for sleep shirt, and some blue boxers.  I changed and then but some silky s**t into my hair and started blow drying it, I straightened it briefly then put on some black socks and then purple hi-tops.  I had a neon purple watch and a black wristband that read BrokeNCYDE written in neon purple letters to match. I ran downstairs and to my surprise my mom was home, and she had made some breakfast burritos. I scarfed them down, so I wouldn’t be late for school. In fact I was only able to eat a couple, then looked up and smiled at her with a piece of egg on my chin.  My mom started laughing. I realized there must have been something on my face and started wiping my face down fast with my hands.  I looked back at my mom, she was a little shorter than me about 5’ 7”, or 5’ 9”, she had blonde hair, creamy light green eyes, full lips, and pale skin just like me.   “I got the day off Christian, so what do you say to me taking you to school today so you don’t have to walk?” My mom suddenly asked.  Normal kids my age would drive to school and all my friends either lived out of the way, or had earlier classes than I do so I would walk. Honestly it didn’t bother me, I knew my mom would get me a car if she could but times were hard right now.  

“Sure mom that sounds cool.” I gave her a big smile, I knew it would make her feel better, especially since we hardly spent time together anymore.  We got into my mom’s midnight blue (I picked the color) Pontiac grand prix 95’ and she took me to school.  

My school was nothing to be proud about; we lived in a border town next to Mexico called Douglas, located in Arizona.  Even though the school was a little ancient it had some amazing teachers in it.  As I walked through the prison gates, that’s what those bronze bars resembled to many of the students, I spotted Felicity in the halls.  I pretty much ran to her , and she gave me a hug and was also excited to see me.  But then she paused, then in my head I freaked out, I realized I wasn’t wearing a long sleeve. Then she gave me a look as if she was ashamed of herself.

"There is no reason in the world that you should cut yourself.” She said, “No excuses Christian, every time you do it, I feel like I failed.” She hugged me harder. “Why didn’t you call me when you felt so low that you had to do this?"  I didn’t know how to respond so I just answered with a simple, and yet so complicated.

“I don’t know.” I felt low, lower than dirt.  She understood and she just gave me an awkward smile and then we split ways to go to our classes before we were late.

Author's Note

I hope you like the version 2.0 chapters (: