×××
This one is a bit short, sorry guys.
×××

I snuck into my house without making any noise; thinking my father was home. I was a mess; yet that didn't surprise me. I slipped through the front door, blood still dripping from my head, and ran upstairs. My father luckily wasn't at home. I burst into my bathroom, tearing off my bloodstained shirt and studied myself. There were scratches and cuts from all the beatings this week and bruises everywhere.

Not so attractive now, are you?

I thought. I looked at my forehead; there was a gash and blood running down my temple. I tried to touch it, but it just stung, so I left it.

I opened the shower doors and turned on the hot water tap onto the hottest it could get to, and stepped inside; clothes and all. At first, the water stung and it hurt, but that was kind of the point. Then it became soothing.

I'm a guy, I know, I should be the strong one, but I break too. It makes me feel like a wimp sometimes...

The water soaked my clothes and hair as I leant my forearms against the shower wall and lowered my forehead; so it was leaning against my forearms, minding the painful gash of course. I let the water run down my face and drip on the floor. Life was difficult as it is, and now I'm having trouble keeping my problems inside at school. There are always girls around me at school. They'll hit on me and I'll say, "I'm not into you, sorry." And they'll either slap me and tell me that I might have been joking, or they'd just get to the point and slap me through the face; and I'd have to pretend it didn't hurt and laugh it off. Most of those laughs were disguised cries.

I got out of the shower and grabbed my towel. After I dried off, I closed the curtains in my room and got changed into some clean clothes. I then took a proper look at my room. It was a mess, like any other teenage boy, but my mess differs greatly.

1. My room has smashed glass in certain areas of my room instead of remains of pizza

2. My room has blood stains on the walls instead of ketchup stains

3. My room had no posters or anything, nothing fancy, whereas the guys usually make sure their room looks good for their girlfriends and I don't intend on getting one anytime soon.

Girls love being shown love and all that gooey, mushy emotional stuff; I'm not emotional and I'm definitely not romantic at all. Life isn't a fairytale and when you're a girl, you wait on that perfect guy to sweep you off your feet and save you, whereas when you're a guy - things are a bit different. The guys don't get saved, that's all I've learned from all the fariytales old people shoved down our throats as we grew up. The guys have to stay strong and take care of the girl.

Girls have been given a warped nature when it comes to guys. Girls have been taught that guys are strong and that they'll always save you. But they never got taught that guys need saving too, nope never! Guys need saving just as much as the girls need saving. Guys break, and girls just don't want to accept that because it's not what they have learnt.

×××