Crash, crash, Burn. [open!]

[dustin woods]

Two years without a call. Without a letter. Two years of being forgotten. Two years of meaning nothing to anyone. Well, except one person, but he sometimes doubt the other cared. He wasn't happy the first time they met. The trainer smiled around him now, but he doubted the other really cared. Dustin knew his trainer had a little brother. Overbearing, sweet and innocent. Nothing like Dustin. He was ugly, weak, boring. Nothing like the handsome, adorable little boy the other had for a sibling. Yet he knew Sterling though of him as nothing more than a pathetic little brother.

These were the roughly written into the paper. Almost ripping the paper with how hard the pen dug into the page. Many words were written down, all the same in a way. Many were different ways of saying worthless. Others were variations of plain - unappealing. Burden was there, large and overlapping many of the words. He kept at this through three pages until finally throwing the pen and book in a fit of anger at the wall near himself.

Dustin knew he shouldn't be here, in this all breaking house. Yet he also knew it would be empty. He found himself comfortable sitting on the second floor, curled up against the wall with his knees hugging his chest and face buried against his arms. The pen and book hit the wall with a soft thud, falling shut and laying there rejected while the child groaned and nuzzled his face into his arms.

He was hungry. He hadn't eaten in two days. Punishment. Self punishment, for things he had done. First, he had accidentally flirted with the man he had loved for these last two years - a man who in love with someone else. Someone beautiful, someone kind, someone better. Second, he messed up at work and a coworker had to carry his deadweight and even covered for him - they got scolded and even though they insisted it was fine, Dustin saw the frown and heard the annoyed sigh the other gave. Third, he kept skipping school. He couldn't focus, he couldn't communicate with the other students. He was awkward, different. He didn't belong there. He had no friends, sat in the back and just read his own books until the bell rang or the teacher made a scene about taking the books and everyone laughed at the more or less mute gijinka child. So he had been skipping, and getting angry calls from the dean on his phone which he left at home.

Now he was hidden away in this old, rumoured building. Dustin wasn't scared. Unlike his partner, 'ghosts' didn't frighten him. Besides, what did he have to lose. His life? Hardly. He doubt anyone would try hurting him. Just his feelings. His life wasn't really that great anyhow. A stupid, worthless freak with no friends, a family that practically threw a party when they finally tossed him out to the streets, and a partner who he feels unworthy of even standing near for too long. That was no life. That was just sad. So the boy relaxed, merely sitting in the silence of the house, surrounded by his lack of fear and loud, self-harming thoughts.