Star Home

"Shit!" I cry out. Jeremy was beating me, yet again. My wet, warm blood dripping across the pavement. Sick. This shit is sick! Being bullied like this, feeling like a piece of shit... it sucks! I can't even begin to think about how sick it was. "Haha! Look at his face! Fucking acne pimples popping out of everywhere! What a freaking loser!" Jeremy shouts to his other friends. He slowly brings his head down to mine, and says, closely in my ear:

"You worthless ugly fucking loser. You'll never find anyone that loves you. You're just like your mother. I heard that worthless slut prostitute beats you every day. You poor broke piece of garbage!" Looking up at his face in horror, I realize he's smiling. Smiling... at that?

I was never able to fight back. Ever since I was a kid, I had no power to fight back. Born as a short, asthmatic 5 foot tall kid. Practically everyone towers above me. Looking up at them, I wished all my life that I could enter their realm, become their height. I couldn't have weighed more than 120 pounds, at most, despite training my entire life. I tried my best, and yet, nothing ever came of it. It lasted hours. The bullying and torment. It only stopped once Jeremy and his goons got bored. Walking home, I think to myself. It's the same shit. Day in, day out. Wake up. Go to school. Get tormented. Go home. Repeat the process at home. Damn! I'm almost home. I hesitate to open the door. 5 minutes... 10 minutes... a horrifyingly long time passes, and pretty soon, its dark. Finally, I awaken the courage to open the door, to talk to my mother. As I open the door, I see her, half naked, in her underwear. She's drunk, and slurring her speech. Those eyes. I've stared at those eyes my whole life. They were filled with an unimagineable amount of hate. I quickly try to run past her, very fast, only to be stopped. "Where were you?" She asks, seemingly innocently. "I was... with my friends..." A lie like that would allow me to quickly pass to my room. Sadly, it wasn't that easy. "You think you're so special, huh? Just because you have people that love you, and I don't?" Here it comes. The constant barrage of insults and violence, I thought. To my surprise, they never came. She slumped over in a drunken daze just as those words left her mouth. She's out like a light. Happily running up the stairs to my room, I wanted no part in my mother's hateful rhetoric. As I open up the door to my room, I rush towards the carpet. I pull back the hidden, destroyed rug to reveal a small, torn apart notebook. It's old, dusted, but certainly full. Opening the notebook, I check the contents. I read the notebook and laugh, smile, even stare in amazement. I stole this notebook off of a trader in the night city. I look across the content of the notebook in shining awe & amazement. The story of the gods. Learning the history of the Gods, beings who have lived for thousands of years. Beings that don't adhere to normal human standards. They can do whatever they want, and nobody can stop them. I just wish that I was a part of their world. It's a world beyond reach. Something I could never hope to achieve. Begging to be apart of that kind of world would be pointless. I read about several instances involving the gods. One instance was a man named Sora who lives in the phillipines on planet Earth. He lived there for an undetermined amount of time, and suddenly went missing. 3 days later, he appeared in North Korea, killing the high elites of the country, and became revered for his amazing power that put him above even the greatest gods. Of course, stories like this tend to be embellished, but the amazing thing is that I desperately wished to become one of the Gods, but as far as I know, humans can't really become gods. You have to be born with that kind of power. Still, I've been wishing for that kind of power for the longest time. It's just too bad that I can't be one of them. I spend hours reading the amazing stories in that notebook, as I've done hundreds of nights before. Seeing the amazing stories of even the weakest gods managing to pull off near impossible feats, I start to feel butterflies in my stomach. I just can't be amazed enough by this beautiful notebook. As I slowly fade out of consciousness, I start to fall asleep.

That night, I have a dream. A giant goat-headed figure starts talking to me, and speaking in tongues. As he continues to speak, I can't understand what he's saying. His voice becomes louder and louder, shredding apart my eardrums and breaking my concentration. Feeling sharp pains from my ear, I place my hand to it, and look at my fingers.

Blood.

My ears are bleeding. Was it that loud? The voice becomes even louder, forcing me to collapse in a pool of my own blood, all of which poured out of me like some sort of misty waterfall. My skin starts peeling off, and I finally make a realization. I'm going to die here. I have to do something!! But what? I'm screwed! Nothing is working, and as I slowly fade out into the black abyss,

I wake up.

Filled with a pool of my own sweat, I burst out of my blankets. Looking around the room, my fear palpable. That dream. It was too real. It's very vivid, and i'm scared of going back to sleep. What was that? Finally, I look around the room, just to see how empty it is. It isn't dirty like the rest of the house, but it definitely is empty. There's not a single piece of furniture, and there are no pictures on the walls. The only thing in the room is a deflated air mattress that I've been using to sleep in. I start to hesitate about whether to wake up & get a glass of water. I'm desperate. I'm so thirsty... I have no choice. I need to sneak past my mother. As I exit my room, I see the mess that my mother has left. Clothes are strewn about. Dirty, disgusting clothing. Panties with unwashed period blood, bags filled with vomit, and dead rats lying about. I look towards my mothers room. There's a guy in there. Better not disturb him. I don't want to be attacked again, not like last time. My mother starts swearing at him, screaming bloody murder. I'm just glad she's not harrassing me right now. Hearing her from the other side of th slightly cracked door, I listen in. "YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF GARBAGE! YOU'RE JUST LIKE MY SON! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!!" As I hear this, I figure that it would be best to avoid her. I manage to silently sneak past her room, and reach the sink. Slowly pouring the water from the sink, I look into it. The slightly discolored brown water shimmers in the moonlight reflected off the window. Shit. The water wasn't like that the last time. The water bill is barely supported, but the cities water supply is garbage. Nevermind. I dump the water out and go to the bathroom. I look at the toilet, noticing how unbelievably disgusting it looks. Shit practically climbed the walls of the toilet, and it was a nasty, yet common, sight for me. Thinking to myself, I realize... God's don't need to do this. Gods don't need to eat, drink or pass waste. Why do I have to deal with this, but they don't. In a momentary outburst of anger, I shout. "IT'S NOT FAIR!!" My rage boiled over, and I realized I was starting to have a fever dream. My thoughts jumbled, stealing my mind away. Everything came to a halt as the gears started turning in my mind. I'm trapped. Trapped with nowhere to escape to. I'm stuck here, and I can't escape. No. In a simple act of defiance, sheer will, and uncaring bliss, I ran out of the house. 'If mother found out about this...' no. I refused to think about it at that moment. It was obvious what was happening. An asthma attack. Quickly grabbing my inhaler, I breathed in, finally feeling a small semblance of peace. My life doesn't control me. It can't. It won't. Somehow, at any means neccessary, I have to escape this life! I couldn't just sit here and wait to be hurt, to be abused. I won't die like this!