Notes

He ran. As fast as he could, trying to escape the monsters that were following close by. He wanted anything more than to be here and now. He done nothing to deserve this except exist and try to help those around him while dealing with his inner demons. Some people say that you hurt yourself more than others, but for him it was the opposite. Nothing compared to the fear he held right now and the pain that they would cause.
He tried to escape every time, but it was no use. They always caught up to him. He could almost began to feel the agonizing pain they would cause him; the first punch was soon to come. Then would come the kicking until his ribs were broken. It would be almost unbearable but not enough to kill him, or even make him pass out.
Soon after, they’d bring out the blades. They’d start of small; a few cuts on his arms or face. It would remind him of what he did to himself. Then they’d go deeper, possibly stabbing him in the leg, and then his stomach, making him cry out in sheer agony. The tears would stream down his face and they’d laugh. “Worthless faggot” or “disgusting retard” they’d say. “You should just die. No one wants you here. You’re nothing but burden, a weakling, a waste of space. You’re ugly, fat, and useless.” From there they’d probably move on to his face, saying that they needed to cut his tears off. They’d drag out the process going ever so slowly, causing him unbelievable amounts of anguish.
As if that wasn’t enough, he’d most likely stay alive. He’d have to suffer so much more pain, and possibly inflict more on himself, only to face the same thing over again. But there would be balloons or “Get Well Soon” baskets. His parents wouldn’t care; they had never cared, they caused him pain, too. His friends wouldn’t show; they were either too far away, too caught up in their own world and problems, or had already lost this battle.
It was too dark. He couldn’t see anything; he’d hit a dead end. He felt himself slightly falling but he didn’t feel himself hit the ground. Suddenly he heard a crack and tried to turn around but was frozen with fear. He braced himself for the impact that was about to come, but it never came. He felt something falling on him. At first he didn’t understand, but then it made sense.
They were throwing dirt on him. He must’ve fallen into a hole or something. The cracking must’ve been his neck. He was dead already. It was only a matter of time before his soul left his body. He was finally leaving this world. There would be no more suffering; he wouldn’t feel anymore pain He’d get to see his friends and Daniel, again. He would be at peace. He would finally be happy.