⁰¹⁴𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔 [𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕]

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introducing...

🩹

! chapter fourteen !

by eve

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"Matt, where did you get those bruises from?" Nicks says, an accusatory tone in his voice. I immediately pull down the sleeve to my hoodie, realizing that it fell down when I reached up to get something from the pantry, showing the recent bruises that I got. Purple and blue bruises litter my arms, the ugly bruises reminding me of yesterday, or at least what I can remember from yesterday.

"Why?" I ask, already annoyed. I get the cereal I was reaching for and shove it onto the table harder than I initially intended. Then I open the fridge, grabbing a milk carton.

"What do you mean why? Matt, if you're not feeling well, you can talk to me. I know you've done it before—I just don't want you hurting yourself like y—"

"That's what you think this is about?! Really Nick?! Really?! You really couldn't have just simply aske—"

"Matt! Why are you yel—"

"No Nick! You don't understand! You are always just jumping to conclusion about my stupid self harm! It wasn't from that! Wow, Nick. You're pathetic," I scoff, slamming the milk carton onto the table, shaking the silverware with it. Then I shove my hands into my pockets and walk away, a deep sigh escaping my mouth.

I storm out the house in a rage, ignoring my brother's pleas to stay from the front door. I don't even look back, ignoring everything he's saying. He's a horrible person for just thinking these bruises are from self harm. He just thinks I'm a fragile little guy with messy feelings, able to break any minute.

He could've just asked where they came from instead of just jumping to conclusions. He doesn't know this yet, but the bullies came back, angrier and stronger. And I wish he could just be here for me to get through it all. I never told him anything about them, mostly because I thought I could deal with it myself, but also because I thought he wouldn't care. And I guess I was right.

I walk down the streets, the afterglow of the rising sun shining down on me. I want to laugh in the sun's face for being so happy right now, for always being so shiny. I hate it.

I walk past shops, walking down the cracked sidewalks of the city. I'm so tired of this, tired of everything. I wish I could tell him about the bullies, about everything, but I can't. And I don't know why.

I just keep walking though, my head fixated on my stupid black converse, my hands still gripped in my pants pocket. The thoughts start to gnaw at my mind, making me suddenly remember.

I remember them hitting me, the moments of vulnerability and shock that resonated through me in the moment. I still remember the cold brick wall that I was shoved into, the blood that decorated my arms.

My breath quickens, my hands growing a disgusting warmth. My steps become heavier, angrier, as I walk down the streets in a palpable rage.

I take one of my hands out of my pocket, wrapping it around my injured arm, rubbing my bruises. I try to soothe my now aching arm by adding pressure to it, gripping my hand tightly around it. Then a pain shoots through me unexpectedly.

Pain. Pain was all I could feel. Fist after fist. Each fist jamming into my skin, leaving monstrous bruises on the flesh. My head was spinning, the commotion becoming a mess.

My heart best pounds harder inside my ride cage, breaths becoming quicker, as I remember every time they beat me up. I can't. I can't do this anymore. Why? Why!? Why am I like this!? Why can't I be normal?! I'm suck a fuck up! Such a problem to everyone!

Laughs erupted around me, people mocking my pain. It was too much. I couldn't bear the pain. So, I cried. I cried my ugly little heart out. And it was in front of them. I showed them what they wanted. I showed them my weak and vulnerable side. And that's when I felt like I couldn't breathe.

My breath quickens, my feet pumping faster down the block. I'm running now. I can't breathe. I'm suffocating. But I run faster. I can't think. I feel pain. Remorse. Regret. Confusion. Anger. I can't do this anym—

Then I'm on the ground, a tear running down my cheek, blood seeping into the ground from my now scraped hands. Pain surrounds me, my body wanting to give up. Until I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking my body. I feel the hand pull me up. And I let them.

"You okay dude? It looks like that hurt," the stranger says, looking at my scraped up hands. He stares at me in confusion, looking at the mess of a person I am.

"S...sorry," I whisper, not able to breathe. I wipe my tears away, cupping my face with one of my hands, trying to not transfer any blood.

"Hey, Matt. Look at me," the stranger says and I immediately look at him, surprised that he knows my name. Once I finally get a good glance at him, I realize. It's Nate.

"Nate," I whisper and wrap my arms around him, finally feeling closure. He hugs me back. Then my breaths come back, my chest heaving up and down in shortened gasps.

My headache steadies. The dreadful thoughts falling out of me. I hug him harder. As hard as I can. I want to stay like this forever.

"Are you okay matt? What happened?" he says, pushing away from the hug, my heart aching at the action. I massage my scraped hand and explain everything through a couple scattered tears.

"It's okay Matt. I'm sure Nick didn't mean it like that. He's just looking out for you. He just wants to make sure you are okay because he knows that sometimes you aren't—and that's okay," he reassures me once another tear gathers in my eye again. "I know he wants the best for you, any big brother would. I know he loves you so much," Nate hugs me, and I hug him back stronger.

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Not sure how I feel about this chap but I wanted to post a chap

Cuz this book had over 6k readsss

That's kinda crazy to me

I hope y'all are having a good day

- love eve 

𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔, ˢᵗᵘʳⁿⁱᵒˡᵒ ᵗʳⁱᵖˡᵉᵗˢWhere stories live. Discover now