The basement is freezing tonight. My thin ripped sheet only covers my frail shoulders and upper chest. Mother has made me sleep in the basement. Again.
I inhale a lung-full of stale air and let out a deep sigh.I reach under the wobbly cot and grasp a razor I hid there ages ago. I hold the small rectangle of metal above my face.
I can't see in the pitch-black of the basement, but that doesn't stop me from being able to recall every single detail of the aged and rusted metal. I remember the patterns of the rust, and the splotches where my old and dried blood mixes with it.
I lift my left wrist up to cut, but I remember the fresh cut from three nights ago and decide to cut on my right wrist tonight. I switch the razor to the other hand and slowly lift the other. I feel with my pointer finger of my left hand while grasping the razor with my other fingers. Once I feel a fresh spot where I haven't cut I gently put the razor up to that part of my wrist. With a quick flick and a second of waiting blood starts to trickle down my arm. I sigh with content as i set the razor back down and turn over on my side. Now, I can rest peacefully.

"Tyler." A familiar voice calls out to me from the darkness between sleep and wake. "Tyler it's time to wake up. Dear." I slowly blink my eyes open. Out of nowhere A sharp pain stings my cheek. "I said get your ass up!"
I quickly hop off the cot and bring a hand up to my stinging cheek. "Y-yes mother. I'm awake." My mother seems pleased with my reaction. She studies my face for a moment then her eyes trail down to my right wrist. They linger there for moment longer until she sees me twitch from her gaze. Her head snaps up and she slaps me again."What the hell is wrong with you? You dumb piece of shit!"
After I recover from the blow I stand up straight again and look at mother while she yells at me. I can smell the reek of liquor on her breath and i turn my head away from the rank scent. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" I slowly turn my gaze to her and stare at her with raging fires of pure hatred in my eyes, For a moment she looks startled, but before I can be sure she clears her throat and points to the stairs. "Go clean yourself up."
I hurriedly oblige and run up the stairs. When I get to my room my brother is waiting for me in the doorway. I put my arm behind my back and try to push past him. It's no use. He doesn't budge. My frail and highly underweight body amounts to nothing against his military strengthened muscular build.
He puts a hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eyes. "Ty, why do you do this to yourself?" His light brown puppy dog eyes are heavy with emotion. I flinch from his gaze and study the floor.
"Ty, I told you not to do that." He says it in a teary way that demands my attention. I tilt my head up to look at him. "You wouldn't understand, Lucas. You haven't seen the way mother acts when your not here. You haven't seen how fast the alcohol goes to her head. Your never here anymore." I choke out the last words and try to keep a sob from shaking my body. "Aw, I"m sorry, Ty. I didn't mean to upset you." He holds his arms open for a hug and I fall into them like the pathetic heap I am.
"There, there, Ty. Let it all out. I'm here now." My brother holds me while I cry, letting me stain his shirt with snot and tears.
Once I calmed down and my sobs are just small hiccups he tells me to get ready for school. I nod and rush into my room.
After my shower I throw on a Black turtle neck sweater and a pair of baggy jeans that used to fit me. I pull up my right arm sleeve and inspect last night's cut. The cut is still open but no blood comes out. I spend a moment more inspecting the cut. The raw inside of the cut is dark pink and the edges of the cut are wrinkly from my shower. I wrinkle my nose at the unsavory color and press a band-aid onto the cut.

"Are you sure you wanna go to school today, Ty?" Lucas stares at me with a furrowed brow. "You don't have to go today. I could go in there and get you dismissed from classes today. Only if you want me to."
The offer sounds tempting, but I really care about my education. I shake my head. "But, thank you anyway. I'll call you if I need to be picked up." He nods and waves goodbye to me as I walk up to the school.
I let out a soft sigh and walk up the stairs to the heavy double doors. Once inside I immediately catch a glimpse of Dylan, my bully. Before I can look away he notices me staring and casts a smirk that has more meaning behind it then it seems. A shiver crawls up my spine and makes me get goosebumps. I turn away from Dylan and start walking to my first period Literature class.
I'm halfway there to my class when I run into someone. "Ah, shi- My bad." A deep melodic voice says. I look up and see Leon, the school"s pride and joy. Rich, handsome, and extremely confident. A little over confident if you ask me.
I look into his deep blue eyes for a second longer as if in a trance. Leon looks down at me too and smiles. I blink my eyes and shake my head snapping out of my trance. There's something hypnotic about those deep-ocean colored eyes. "N-no, it's my fault I wasn't looking where I was going."
When I look back up at him his gaze trails along with mine. He studies my face and his features turn from smiley to concerned. "Um, you've got something on your cheeks," He lifts a hand up to point at them and I flinch from his sudden yet graceful movement.
I suddenly remember when mother slapped me this morning. "Oh, That's nothing. I-I've got to go." I turn and run around the corner to the nearest restroom.
Looking in the mirror I see my pale cheeks and the hand prints contrasting terribly with my skin. Why didn't Lucas tell me about this? I turn on some cold water and cup my hands under the faucet. I slowly bring the water up to my face and rinse it. I fumble around for a paper towel to dry my face with, but I don't feel any. I groan and lift the bottom of my sweater up to my face. I shiver as the cold bathroom air hits the bruises on my abdomen.
I hear a gasp and something shatter to the floor. I swivel around and let my sweater drop back into place. Standing in the doorway is Leon and on the floor is a broken jar of foundation. I stare at him in horror and hope to God he didn't see the bruises.