They don't want to know, why bother?Maybe they do, they just don't know how to , they just don't care... Brad sat in a white room and looked at the figure across from him. The figure's voice was neither male nor female yet had a sense of understanding. They don't know what I saw... I don't even know what I saw. I don't want to you feel like you're being fair? Judging them before giving them the proper chance? You come to me for relief, I'm not relieving you, nor am I trying. You're the only person who knows how to find peace.
Brad sat up, Bailey's warm body pressed close against him on his bed. Sweat rolled down his face as he pulled his covers off him, showing the light pink scars scattered over his well built chest. Hey Bailey, do you miss dad? He whispered, hoping the golden retriever would respond with affection, however, the dog let out a heavy sigh and growled slightly at the disturbance of his dream. Brad sighed and sat at his u-shaped desk, opening his note book.
I miss daddy, I wish he'd come home. But mommy says he's happier where he is now, I just hope he knows how much I miss him. Brad wrote in the kitchen, his pudgy fingers smeared the pencil marks as he wrote as neatly as he could. His mother stood by the sink drying the dishes that Brad had helped her wash earlier. I don't know why he had to go, or where he went. Mommy says I'll be staying with my cousin Robbie for a little bit, because she has to do something for daddy I think. The sound of the dishes being stacked rattled in the air as Brad wrote, trying to spell and word everything as best he could. Mommy says writing things down with help me grow up good.
Brad opened his eyes, his face pressed against his desk and his pen in his hand. Sitting up he peered at the clock which blinked 3:57 a.m. repeatedly. Pulling himself up and out of the leather chair, Brad felt the heat wrap around him and fill his lungs. The carpet meshed with his skin as he shifted his weight from his hands to his feet silently. The radio buzzed lightly as Dare You To Move played softly from each of the cleverly placed speakers. His notebook laid spread open on his desk, words scribbled in pen all over the page. His fingers touched the lined paper, allowing the ink to soak into his blood stream.
I want to die. Why did daddy leave me? Brad wrote, watching his mother's eyes well with tears as the police officer embraced her before she collapsed. The drapes from the living room blew gently and he watched from inside. The truck's windshield coated in a thick layer of blood.
Brad screamed and cried as the truck sat facing into oncoming traffic, he felt the beating of his heart roar in his ears. He snapped his eyes open and looked at the ceiling of his room, blood pooling around his hands and elbows. The pink scars throbbed as the new slash cut across them. Chest heaving and heart racing Brad looked for a towel to clean himself up; coming across the towel his father's newspaper article caught his eye. Blood had melted the ink and wrinkled the fragile page making it difficult to read; picking the page up in his bloody hands Brad sobbed. Tears ripped the paper effortlessly as he groaned and gasped for air. How could you... he whispered looking at the article's picture. I hate you... His arms throbbed as the blood stained his fingertips and soaked into his clothing. I hate you! I hate you! God damnit I hate you! He screamed as his fingers shredded the article. Realizing what he had done he collapsed and cried, his body shaking, his wrists still bleeding. Pulling on his ears he sobbed as the walls laughed and yelled at him. Stop it, shut up, leave me alone! He yelled as Sophie opened the front door.
She said quietly, as Bailey barked outside.
Stop it! Stop laughing! Brad screamed and Sophie jumped, throwing her bags down and pulling her coat off before heading up the stairs.
Brad? Are you all right? She said knocking softly on his door, hearing nothing she turned the door knob. Brad's body shook as the latch clicked and the door opened. Sophie stared and pulled out her cellphone, hitting the speed dial number for his mother. Jane? It's Sophie, Brad needs help, getting on her knees she cradled his body in her arms as the operator for 9-1-1 guided her over the phone. Brad, buddy, you need to wake up. Her voice cooed softly in his head.
You need to get up Bradlee.I don't want to, it'll you'll hurt so many other people if you don't The voice was neither male nor female as it spoke. Its words seeped into Brad's skin while he sat still in the white room. Think about your 'll hurt, I don't want to get up. Brad's voice was like a child's, the innocence drained from his body as the room grew dark, and objects appeared. Don't make me get up... Please? He saw his mother's face in the shadows, her face covered in worry caused wrinkles. Her cheeks stained with tears, enduced by anger and fear. The loud beeping droned out the voice as it spoke.
Light flooded his mind as he blinked His body ached from the amount of light so he closed his eyes in an effort to lessen the pain. He left his mother sigh and approach him. His body lunged inside his skin as her fingers caressed his check gently before taking his hand. Why would you do that? Her voice shattered in his mind, it sent pain racing through his body and his grip tightened on her hand. As his mother attempted to pull her fingers free Brad felt the IV needles pierce his flexing muscle making him yelp in agony. He opened his hand, his veins inflamed and throbbing. He felt the stitches pull as his muscles grew and swelled. His heart raced in his throat as his mother stroked his cheek again.