Just a tip, You're what I need.
You're 10 years old when you find your mother hanging from a rope tied to a metal bar. You poke her, scream at her, and pound on her lifeless body trying to gain some response. You grab the phone and do what your mother has always told you to do in case of an emergency, dial 911.
When the police arrive you're sitting in the corner crying. A policeman approaches you and asks you to come with him. Mother always told you that policemen are nice and are there to help you.
You hold out your hand to him, he smiles and grabs your hand. He brings you to an ambulance. You don't understanding why you need to go on the ambulance, you're not hurt.
The ambulance is driving away, you're screaming, you don't want to leave your mom. The police officer came with you on the ambulance. He is telling you his name is Craig. He is asking your name. Ryan is what you're trying to say to him, but the shock is still too overpowering.
You're at the hospital. They bring you into a room and give you a class of water. You drain the first cup and attempt to ask for another, but again the words are stuck in your throat. Craig understands and gives you another cup. After five cups of water, you think you might be able to talk, because yeah, you might be ten, but you're not stupid. They gave you the drinks to help you speak.
``Hey kid, you're doing well. You need anything, water, food?'' Craig asks you.
You're looking at him when you took a deep breath, ``My mom?''
Craig purses his lips together, ``You have any family we can call?''
You shake your head, ``My mom told me my dad ran off when I was two, something about `the cheating bastard.' What's wrong with my mom?''
Craig chokes back a laugh, ``Aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas?''
``No.''
He sighs, shakes his head, looks at me, and shakes his head once more. He gets up, ruffles your hair, and tells you he will be right back. You're stuck in this room all by yourself with the image of your mother hanging there, with no answers.
Craig comes back in with another lady and smiles softly. ``Hey kid, what's your name?''
``Ryan.''
``All right Ryan, this woman right here is going to talk to you, are you okay with that? ``
``Sure, I guess so,'' you say.
The nice looking lady sits down on the chair that is set up across from you. ``Hi Ryan, my name is Jan. I'm sure you have some questions.''
``My mom?''
She comes over and embraces you in a hug. You understand, but you need to hear it out loud for it to make sense to you. You know you're crying and ruining the nice ladies suit, but she doesn't seem to mind.
``Ryan, your mom has past away.'' That's the last thing you hear, before blackness is hurtling towards you.
++++
You're eleven now, and in foster care until someone wants to come and adopt you. You don't like the people you live with and they could care less for you. You miss your mom and your best friend, Brendon, a lot. You never got a chance to tell him what happened. You hope someone was able to tell him, he was probably worried.
You hear you're foster mom calling you down for dinner. She says she has news, and a visitor. You put the book you're reading down and walk down the hallway into the kitchen. You first see a tall boy standing there with a mess of black hair and you automatically know; Brendon.
You don't waste a single second standing there. You run up behind him and give him the biggest hug you have ever given anyone. You don't care that you are crying, all you care about is that your Brendon is here, and that he always makes things better.
``Ryan, you're being adopted.'' His foster mother says only that, and then turns away.
Brendon laughs when you hug him again. You run to your room to get your stuff together. You never start to question on why Brendon is adopting you, his parents aren't really ``there.''
++++
It's you're birthday today, you're 14. Brendon is 13. Brendon's parents don't care about you, or their only son. Both of you share the same friends. You live in a nice town in Bradford, New York. You love it there. You and Brendon basically live in the basement by yourselves. You buy your own food. You buy your own everything. You enter and exit the basement by the hatch that leads outside. Your friends know it's always open so if they need a place to crash they can come in.
The basement is big. You can fit two beds, a TV, a mini fridge, a stove, and a microwave in it. You can also fit about fifty people in there at one time when you throw a party. You don't go to school. Brendon has an 8th grade education, but is still as smart as any high-school student. You, on the other hand, hardly passed 7th grade.
By now you know that you're bisexual. You like the dick and you like the tits. You have a girlfriend, who is also your best friend, Brittanie. You met her back when you were 12, and Brendon and you lived in New Jersey. It's a long distance relationship but you make it work, or have been for the past 6 months. You visit her every other weekend. Brendon is also bisexual, and has a girlfriend named Tara. They have been dating for 5 months. The only difference between Brittanie and Tara is, Tara will drink and smoke as much as we do, and Brittanie won't.
Brendon drinks and smokes weed, mostly. You on the other hand, drink, smoke weed, and do whatever drug you can get into your system. You know you're not happy, so ``Why bother trying to live?'' is your question.
You still miss your mom. You miss her a lot more now that you know how she died. She hung herself because she wanted to die. She didn't want to be with you anymore, and as much as that hurts, you know the feeling now. You don't want to be here any more either.
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You're 15 now, and pretty much all you do is drink, smoke, do drugs and have sex. You don't think you're invincible, but you think you're pretty damn depressed. You and Brittanie broke up, but remained best friends. Brendon and Tara broke up, and that was a funny story.
You were walking down the stairs drunk one night, and interrupted a fight Brendon and Tara were having. Tara was screaming that Brendon pays more attention to you than he does to her. You were so out of it that you just stood on the bottom step listening to them. Brendon was disagreeing with her the whole time saying that he loves her. Then, the bitch called you `stupid' and a `waste of life.'
Nobody really could deny that, but Brendon went off on her claiming that you'll always be a much better fuck then she could ever be. She screamed in aggravation, and that's when you walked over to them and kissed Brendon hard on the mouth. Your tongues clashed and forgot about Tara being right there. She got so pissed that she marched up the stairs, and threw an empty beer bottle. It broke on your head. You passed out.
A/N: This is my new story. I'm hoping updates will be weekly, but I can't promise anything.