Melancholy Thinking

***Trigger Warning*** This whole story will bring up stuff like Rape, Suicide, mental health, bullying, and abuse/neglect. If its too much for you I highly suggest you don't read this. Now with that out of the way.

Chapter 1: When they learn.

You ever have that lump in your throat? The type where you want to talk but can't? I always have that lump, its so pronounce that it even stunts my thinking. You see there are lessons a person needs to be taught, but what happens when you aren't taught those lessons in time? Well I'm not glad about it, but thats what happened to me. My name is Ethan Muller and I know what you are going to say. It happens to more than just you. Well I'm here to say that I know I'm not the only one, but this isn't anyone else's story. Its mine, and this is my story. No one else's.

"I cannot believe you would fucking do this to me!" I'm suddenly woken up after hearing crashing, "You fucking thieving bitch!" The voice is obviously Rachael's that it causes my to shiver with anger.

"I'm the bitch, you are the fucking sav that stole from me! I should call the fucking police on your thieving ass!" Another voice i can clearly hear it being Emma's. Soon I hear more thrashing and soon a loud crash. As their fight continues I try my hardest to block them out. Maybe if I hold my pillow over my own face long enough I could hopefully smother myself and finally be at peace, but nope. Before I can hit that point my body pulls the pillow away only to hear even louder their fight. Soon they bust into my room, and I'm forced up.

"What the fuck are you doing get the fuck out!" I scream with my heart going so fast I fear my heart will implode and turn into a blackhole.

They didn't hear me as they continue to fight, and soon they manage to push each other out, but I follow and see the whole living room is a mess. My legs begin to shake, and my lips tremble. I would think its a heartattack, but my skin begins to let off heat like a furnace. "What the fuck is going on?" I scream so loud that my voice cracks, and their fight stops, but only for a second so they can tell me to mind my own business.

I finally just punch the wall, but not once or twice. I keep going until the pain in my hand become unbearable and I finally leave out the door. I don't stop for nothing. My legs don't stop moving until I nearly trip over roots stubbing my toe on a tree causing me to curse out even more. Jesus can God give me a fucking break? I keep going until I hear the sweet sounds of flowing water. As much as I want to just end it, I'm not drowning myself. Takes too long, and besides I don't need to. I feel around until I feel a small hole, and that hole I feel a ply board.

Lifting it up just enough so I can slip in, and its freezing inside my little dugout camp. I can still hear distant screaming, but that doesn't matter to me. I just go into my hole and slip into my sleeping bag. Once I'm settled I snuggle up and soon my body warms up the sleeping bag, and the small dugout pit. Soon the screaming is gone and all I hear is the sweet sound of water, and wolves howling.

Just because I love to hear them I peek my head out of the hole and howl as loud as my voice will let me, and soon I hear wolf packs that surround the location begin to howl as well. I smile as I slip back in and soon the weight of life forces my eyes closed.

I open my eyes and I'm sitting in someone's lap. Soon I feel hands around my waist and it feels nice. I sink into that feeling and I hear his voice. "Life is just a thing. Its up to you to make that thing into something you want. I know you are too young to know what you want, but I want you to try. Think about what exactly you want because the more you know about yourself the less the world can use you." The words from an voice I can't fit a face with. I've heard that voice a lot since I was a little kid and it's what I think about when I really think about killing myself.

Honestly I don't want to, but with every other night consisting of either deafening silence or screaming from someone. My choices are becoming increasingly easy, and thats what scares me. My only true escape is death, because I have no other place to go. This house, and property have been my entire world. This and school. Cops won't believe a word I say because my family has contradicted me so much the cops won't believe a word I say.

No, death isn't my only escape. I know this, but its either that or put up with everyone just a few more years. Just three more fucking years and I am free.

I'm soon awoken by the sounds of chirping birds and not too long later I hear people screaming my name. I just flip my ply wood open and right there I see a plastic bag and without a second thought I open it and see some clothes I put in there, and a second pair of shoes. Once I'm dressed I yawn walking up the trail to see the house. My world is at the brim of falling apart, but I love mornings for one reason.

"Jesus christ can't I go on a morning stroll without people freaking out." My hand still burns, but I ignore it.

"No, what the fuck did you do punching holes into walls!" I hear my mom yell at me.

"I didn't do shit. You know Rachael and Emma woke me up when they busted into my room. Rachael fucking shoved Emma on me and I was mad and screamed, but I couldn't sleep. I haven't slept all night so I went for a walk. You want me to separate from the violence or do you want me to kill myself because of how you all put your issues onto me?" I scream feeling my face completely tense and I instantly regret what I'm saying, but I don't say or show it. They just stare at me all completely shocked with mouths ajar.