The boy who could fly

                                    

                                          
  ~Ten years ago~
Daddy died last month and mom isn't home 20 hours each day. They left me alone with my grief. I'm tired and I miss my parents, even if they were a bad one. Today I found myself sitting in the backyard on the swing that my daddy built when I was 4 years old. Instead of going to school I decided to sit here and pass scissors on my skin. Suddenly some noise from the bushes disturbed me. A boy jumped from there, defending himself from my old scissors.
"You're doing it wrong..." the boy said with a smile. At first I thought that he was mad, but very soon the surprise on my face became anger.
"I don't know you, you can't tell me what is wrong and what isn't!" my voice was rusty, since the only thing I ate today was one bite from a sandwich.
"I'm John, and in my opinion I'm an expert in the suicide subject" he pointed on the lines that the scissors left on my skin. He pulled his sleeve up and showed me the white and the red marks he had on his wrists and arms.
"You did that to yourself?" I think that I was mesmerized by his scars.
"Yep, it helps you survive the day and feel better when you punish yourself" John had a sad smile which made my heart beat faster than usual.
"So you admit that you're a sadist?" he laughed at my thought but dismissed my opinion and decided to continue our conversation.
"What brought you to this" John pointed on the scissors in my hand, and suddenly I felt that he got lost in his thoughts. I was too shy to look in his direction and all I could see is John's black Converse which was doodled with lyrics and too old to wear them.
"Take these, I'll meet you tomorrow and you'll tell me how you feel" he took out his hand from the pocket and handed me a blade which was cold on my skin.
~~
After John left I entered back to the small house which was typical in San-Francisco. My room was on the second floor, facing my parents' room. The house was quiet and the only noise came from the cars outside. I remember the funeral like it was yesterday, I remember how people told behind my back that I'm lucky that my father bought the house and left it to his daughter, they said that my mother would find herself another man and kick out the girl. I don't think that I'm lucky because I don't want to be sad each day.
In my room I could examine the subject John gave me. It was sharp and new, and the thought that John keep many razors- a collection. The blade was cold and sharp, like a smooth and cold blooded killer. The advice that John gave me appealed to me and I decided to try.
At first it hurts, but next you can feel the adrenaline pass through your body and give you this little kick of happiness. I was so excited that I passed this blade again and again until my arm was filled with blood. In that day I knew that my life changed forever.
~~
"First, you need to make some piercing on your face and go back to school" John declared and had a determined look on his face.
"Why the hell I need to do that?" I haven't been there for a month, and now he want me there? John smiled slightly and passed his hand over his hair.
"The social workers will come here, see you wallowing in you blood. How nice, isn't it?" he had this devilish smile but I never knew how he know these stuff.
My friends stopped talking with me, and I never tried to talk with them because I knew I was different and they can't understand me-they had their perfect little life. Each day that passed I felt more and more small and useless. Very soon John was the only sane thing in my life and I never thought that he had problems in his life. I remember that his blue eyes were sad and every day he had another new cut and bruises on his face and body.
~~~
~three years later~
Today was my 16th birthday. My step dad woke up early today, watching something downstairs and probably drinking. I looked at my pale image that reflected me from the broken mirror. My blue eyes were missing the light that always been there, and my cheekbones were sharp. I noticed that I lost more weight. The scars on my body filled almost every inch on my body, but it never bothered me, not even now. I threw on myself pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie that covered all that I hated.
John's situation got worse and I was not in the best condition to help him. When I was ready for school I left the house quietly, stealing a cigarette from my step dad's box and closing the door before he notice me and hit me again. John was waiting me at the usual place, a cigarette already in his mouth. We nodded to each other in recognition and started walking to school.
"You still want to leave?" he asked with hope. He still want to be with me, but I wanted to leave this house and go live with my grandmother.
"Yes, I need to escape this hell. It doesn't change what I feel towards you" John was quiet for a minute, lost in his thoughts while the smoke left his mouth. I was lucky and we were near to school and we had to finish our cigarettes before someone will see us and report to our parents.
The day passed quickly and I ignored John as much as I could but it was worse when people around you tried to push you down the floor or lock you in the bathroom. When I finely was home my step dad smoked and carefully stood up from the couch.
"I know that you took a cigarette" he said with a poisonousness tone in his voice.
"I never touched your cigarettes, you don't have to be an asshole and blame me on each fucked up action you make" I was defensive and cold inside because I was afraid deep inside.
"You're a bad girl and you need a punishment" he yelled on me and grabbed my arm. He pulled me closer to his body until I smelled the alcohol from him. The drunk man ripped my shirt off and examined my body.
"Oh well, never knew that little mama's girl is suicidal. It doesn't matter, I still can enjoy myself" I knew what would happen if I don't stop it and it was worse more than everything that I can do to myself. Before the heavy man can understand my plan I kicked him in the balls and run as much fast as I could, leaving him screaming with maddens. In my room I packed my small belongings and left a letter for my mother. I had secret savings for situations like this. I jumped from the window down the ground and ran to John's house.
"John!" the boy looked through the window and a small smile appeared on his face.
"What are you doing here?" but soon enough he understood that something was wrong. A minute or so we sat in his room. I tried to copy each detail in here because I knew that I never going to see it again.
"I'm leaving"
"Why?" John was mad, but in that day I couldn't understand why.
"My step dad..." I began talking and he dismissed me because he knew what happened.
"I'm gonna kill him! Are you hurt?" I nodded my head and took the little piece of courage I had and kissed his lips for the first time. I knew he love me, but I never loved him like he wanted.
"I'm leaving and you can't do anything to change my opinion" I stood up and left his house. He followed me, bagging me to stay.
"Please don't leave or I will kill myself" I stopped, taking deep breath and began walking again.
"Please don't go..." he said quietly. "I will kill myself..."
"So kill yourself, I don't care" was my last selfish words.