Status: Edited

// Johnny's Point Of View //

I walked home from the park slowly, my mind was full at the moment. I can't believe Ponyboy Curtis wanted to hang out with me, a singing boy, a photographer, an artist. I thought he'd rather hang out with his popular friends like he has on the track team or his band class. He has better people​ to hang out with so why in the world did I say yes? I can't let people in again, time will repeat itself and bad things will happen again, just like they did in the past.

I don't want my past to come back and haunt me, I don't want it to come back and hurt me, I don't want it back. It hurts too much, they used to love me and they loved what I did but not now, they have changed, they have changed a lot. My parents used to love me a lot, then one day so thing happened and everything changed, they thought it was my fault and took it out on me. . . They hurt me, beat me, called my names. They tortured me because of something I didn't do, they blamed me for ruining the fa I'll, ruining their marriage.

I never did anything to them though, I was always doing school work and sketching, I was just a kid. The first time they ever hit me, I was five years old, I was innocent, I was only a little kid that they didn't love anymore. I got hurt so bad that night, my dad came home drunk and had lipstick all over his face, I may have been young but I wasn't that stupid. Mom came home early shortly after and yelled at me for letting him be with someone else. It wasn't my fault.

They continue to fight and yell, take their anger out on me when I did absolutely nothing to them. They hurt me more times then I could count, when I got hit I wasn't aloud to talk, it would only make it worse for me. Rarely when I get hit I let out any noise, I knew better by know. When I was a kid I was ignorant, I screamed and cried, begging them to stop, it never worked. I just let him hit me, I probably deserved it anyway, I knew I did deserve to be hit, I was a useless child.

I reach the house and open the door, taking off my glasses and putting them into my bag, not wanting them broken. Alcohol was the only scent wafting through the air and I knew that my father was home. Perfume was very evident as well and that indicates that mother was home as well, probably drunk off her whiskey shots. Slowly, I make my way to my bedroom and open the door, closing it behind me and placing my bag down softly on the ground. I unpack my bag and place all of my art stuff back under the bed where it's usually kept.

It was dark by know and it was the weekend, I had no reason to stay here, I could just leave for the weekend. Without a second thought, I slipped on my spare jacket and walked out of the room since I didn't take my shoes off, they didn't need to know that I was home. Quickly, I walk back out the door and down on the street to where I usually stay, the lot, it was a great place to look at the stars, it was comfortable. After getting there, I sit on the small matress that was there and looked at the sky. The stars twinkling brightly, showing off how bright they can shine.

I wish that I was a star sometimes, I could get away from home, from my parents, from reality. I wasn't needed anywhere anyway so what was the point of staying where I could get hurt. I layed down on my back and continued to stare upwards. It wouldn't get too cold at night here in town so I never minded sleeping outside, it calmed me knowing that my parents couldn't hit me. I wish they actually cared about my though, I wonder what it's like to feel loved and appreciated?

It hurt sometimes to think about the people who are supposed to love you beat you like your nothing but I guess I am nothing. I'm just another person in the background to make up a scene. If I disappeared, nothing would happen, no one would look for​ me, I'd be alone. Being alone for me wasn't necessarily a bad thing, I liked being alone, it gave me time to think about my life and how I wish it was like the other kid's. That would never happen though, I would never trade my life for another, it would put another kid through suffering.

"Hey, girl, open the walls, play with your dolls. We'll be a perfect family. When you walk away is when we really play. You don't hear me when I say, mom, please wake up. Dad's with a slut, and your son is smoking cannabis." No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens. Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen," I sing quietly before skipping a bit of lines and move to the next verse. "Hey, girl, look at my mom, she's got it going on.Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry. When you turn your back she pulls out a flask. And forgets his infidelity. O-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic, go back to being plastic."

The song related to my life in more ways than I could ever think of. It was scary to think that someone wrote a song on your life without you knowing​ that they did it. My family was not perfect, far from it, very far from it. My eyes closed shut, sleep pulling at my body. I fall asleep outside in the lot.

// Authors Note //

Finally finished this. Sorry that it took forever but my head was busy at the moment. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll see you all soon.

Till then,

~ Stay Gold