*beep------beep------beep--------WHAM*

The day began with what he interpreted as his alarm greeting him into hell once more. He arose on his mislead feet, scarred with wrong decisions, twisted fates. The glare on the mirror almost shows how vague his face has gotten. The shifted lines, the early wrinkles. The gray, dulled eyes. He’s only 19, but with his withering life, you would guess that he’s 30.

He had seen more than he should at his age, experienced things that had shaped who he is now.  He gets ready for his day…. His next day in hell. He eats his breakfast. Rice crispies, childhood favorite. But now they taste like ash, and the sugar, dust.

School doesn’t exist in his lonely life. Dropped out before his junior year. Love had twisted his reality. Drugs matted his thoughts.

Back when he was happy, 15, friends, life, love, and family. Living the “high life” student body, great people, and a “crush”, the crush that would ruin him for all he was worth.

He had realized his feelings back in his 8th grade year. They weren’t normal. They were for other men. He ignored them, kept them quiet. They tore at his sliding mentality. For three years.

He finally gave up, one normal day when he was 15. He had seen something abnormal on TV. The previews of the current controversial movie. Gay cowboys. This spiked his interest, and killed his mind. His residing thoughts came to a more distinguished surface. More heard, more thought. He slipped, and had no where to go. Only the beginning…..

He had no where to go. No where. He lived in a place where being open minded seemed to be as illegal as running a red light. No one would understand, no one would love him. He gave in. he cried for help with despair from an acquaintance he had only met once. Only the beginning…….

He talked to this person. He helped so much. He knew what the boy was going through. He was the same way.

The acquaintance grew to a friend. The friend grew to a lust, the lust exploded into a need. He fell like a ton of bricks. Nothing could stop him from being happy. This man was leading him on, for what seemed to be “real” feelings.

They went on a date, a very good date. Beautiful places, blaring music. Songs which are now tied to deceitful memories. He let it go on. Like he didn’t care. The boy was in love. The man seemed to be interested.

Not to long after, the boy broke down. He yet again had no where to go. So he went to the man for comfort, for that warm place in the mans arms. He found him. Tracked him down like a hound. He ran to him. The man threw him to the ground. Beat his mind to a numb pulp, told him of another boy, and their “love”. its started…….

The boy was crushed. His first love was false. through all of his hope. What had he done wrong? Did he do something bad? No. the world just hated him. He tried to live. And he succeeded. The man was in his lonely life from time to time, not caring about how the boy was really feeling. He didn’t care, he still got his nightly fix of sex, didn’t he?

The boy spiraled. Mainly down, but he came back up. He was finally doing well, after a month of grief. he felt he could be happy again. But it was just the world,  playing him as a fool. Exactly a month, even to the day, since the man shattered his swelling heart, the man came back into his life with a bang. He talked to the boy, told him that the other boy was gone, and there was now room for him. He talked of his “feelings” and how he could be “head-over-heels”. the boy was happy again. But it broke him up to think about the heartbreak it could cause him. The mental torture, the strain. He gave in. his conscience being weak, and let the man right back in. he felt hope, he felt as though the man cared, and maybe even loved him in return. Its started…….

The boy let himself fall all over again, disregarding the hurt he had felt before, because of the same man. But he had to pursue, he had to hope. That’s just who he was. He was happy, he had what he wanted.

Yet again. The man threw him away, and beat his mind to a numb pulp. He said he had no feelings. Although he had brought up dating, and the fact that he may be “head-over-heels”. the boy was yet again crushed. And sick of how things were. The man was only in it for the kicks, there was no attachment there, for the man at least. The boy was gone. Nothing left. His brain had enough of the lingering thoughts. And it collapsed.

The boy felt as though he could never be loved. What was so wrong with him? What did he do wrong? This was just what he was afraid of. Not being loved. All of his love, all of his thoughts, were wasted, on a stupid whore of a man, only in it for sex. He had no where to go, so he turned to the razor, and drugs.

6 months later he was a high school drop out. Living on the streets. No where to go, no one loved him, no one cared.

The drugs warped who he once was. No more was he happy, no more did he experience emotion. He just went from hooker to hooker for sex, looking for some kind of pleasure in life. No where to be found. He thought about how stupid it was to have slipped so far, and how easy it was for once person to set him so far off the edge.

He finds himself back in the mirror, dome with the reflection of his god-forsaken past. He cant stand the thought of another life in hell. More sex, more drugs, and still, no one to love him. He was fed up. He grabbed his gun, put it in his mouth, and it all disappeared. The hurt, the pain, the love, the lust, the man, the life he once led, and the life he led in the end.