Guardian Angel

TJ is the outcast of the school. He eats and sits alone at lunch in a corner. No one every notices him in or out of school. And his alcoholic dad couldn't care less about him. There were only two people in TJ's life that meant a lot to him, and they are both dead. TJ just wants to get away from it all. That's why he cuts and smokes. To take away some of the pain even for brief periods of time. But TJ is about to meet his guardian angel that will change his whole life.


3. Home

I walked into my house and smelled the alcohol and cigarette smoke. My dad must be home from work cause the smell was extra strong today. He worked as a construction site manager, and was usually home late. I walked down the hall and into my room, passing my dad who was passed out on the couch. I threw my bag onto the floor and plopped down on my bed. I dug around underneath my mattress for my black journal to write about how the day went. Afterwards I replaced my journal and stood up and lifted up my shirt to examine where I was punched.

A bruise was already starting to form and it hurt to touch. I swore and then heard my dad staggering down the hall. I quickly dove for my bed and pulled out my phone and pretended to be texting someone. My dad believed that I wasn't really affected by my moms death, so I let him believe it. It wasn't too hard though. He was never really home. The door opened and he peered in.

"Hey Tyler," he said. I hated when he called me Tyler. Technically it was my name, well its actually Tyler James, but I like to go by TJ. That's what my mom and Mikey always called me. "How was school buddy?" he asked.

"Great dad," I lied. I had gotten quite good at lying since mom died.

"Great, I'm going out with some buddies. I'll be back late," he said. I nodded.

"Alright, have a good time," I said. He closed the door and I could hear him stagger down the hall again and the front door closed.

Now I was alone. But I liked alone. I started to dig underneath my bed and finally felt the cold metal box. I pulled out and set it gently on my bed. I sat up and leaned against the wall and slowly opened the box and looked at the contents. Several blades and a few blood stained rags. I gently picked up a rag and lay my wrist on top. I pulled my jacket off revealing several fresher cuts, and lots of pale old scars. I pulled out a blade and slowly dragged the metal across my skin. I winched at the pain but let it linger before wiping the rag across my wrist to help stop the blood. I then placed the box back under my bed and walked out of my room.

I could almost hear my mom and Mikey yelling at me from above. I knew that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing. But since they left, I have been in a pit. I opened the basement door and made my way down the uneven steps and then hit the light at the end. When I was younger I was scared of the basement. My dad always got mad at me when I would wander down here, so I always stayed away. But now it was a place I went every day. It's where my dad stored his cigarettes and beer.

I made my way through all the boxes and junk that filled the basement and found the case of beer and five packs cigarets. I grabbed a box of cigarettes and a bottle of beer and made my way up the stairs again. I made my way to the family room and sat down and opened up the beer and drank until I fell sleep on the chair.

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