Just a John Bender centered FanFiction. His point of view on his life, problems and the famous Saturday Detention he shared with Andrew, Claire, Brian and Alison. OneShot. Please leave reviews!

I do not own John Bender or The Breakfast Club

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Shadow Of Myself

John Bender stood in front of the bathroom's full length mirror, looking at his reflection. He was getting used to it. Recently, he had to do it every morning. He had to, because he had to know how bad it was so he could hide it better.

Two large purple bruises were on his stomach, where his Dad had kicked him the day before. He slowly approached his finger to the bruise, but immediately pulled away when the slight contact made him lean over. The pain was so throbbing he threw up on the floor. When the convulsions stopped, John carefully sat up against the wall. He ached all over. The bruises on his stomach, the new purple ones and the old, fading ones, blue, brown and yellow. The cigar burns and the bruises where his father gripped him so tight on his arms. The welts on his back. He sighed. It even hurt to breathe.

He opted for a white, long sleeved shirt, a pair of jean he found under his bed, a red shirt and the gloves he always wore. At school, he was 'the criminal'. The bad boy, the tough one. Nothing could hurt him. He was hated by teachers and the students had a kind of fearful respect for him. He smoked cigarets, sometimes marijuana when he had the money. He got wasted often, because that way he could forget all about everything. He didn't have any real friends, and it was better that way. He didn't want to get close with anybody, open up to anybody. It always worked that way, and he was good at that game.

He had made one mistake, though. At that Saturday Detention. There was four students there - a 'Little Miss Prom Queen' named Claire. God, she was so full of herself. And that jock who pissed him off, that Andrew kid. Nerdy Brian was just annoying. The Alison girl was just... there.

Usually, it would've been easy to keep his usual 'bad kid' mask. But he had been in a poor state of mind that day and somehow, secrets slipped. Secrets that weren't supposed to be revealed, ever.

Luckily, those kids weren't too bright. They didn't ask why he had no lunch, or if there was something else beside that cigar burn he showed them. They thought they knew, but they had no idea. They had no clue. They didn't wonder why he freaked out so bad after, why he trashed objects on the floor and isolated himself for a while afterwards.

He just needed to be alone, really. They were all shocked by that imitation of one of his Dad's punch and that cigar burn. They didn't see the rest, they didn't see anything. They thought those two little things were considered physical abuse. They hadn't seen anything.

They were all whining about their parents. 'Boo hoo, my parents fight and fix things with me by buying me stuff. Poor me'. 'Boo hoo, my parents put pressure on me, I always have to be number one and can't get to do what I really want.' 'Boo hoo, I have to have good grades or my parents will not be proud.' 'Oh no, poor me, my parents ignore me.'

Those kid's problems were nothing. He could just imagine the scene if he did have revealed his problems. 'Boo hoo, my Mom died when I was 6 year old. My Dad beats the shit out of me all the time, I'm full of bruises, I ache all over and he makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit all the time. Poor me, I have to work to get enough money to have one meal a day. Boo hoo, I only have a couple of clothes. Boo hoo, I have to deal with being bi-polar because my Dad screwed up my life, so I'm angry or depressed all the time. I'm 17, poor, feeling like shit and being beaten, but nobody knows or cares. Poor me.' Hah, that would shut their fucking mouths up.

So I got up on those kind of stairs and tried to hold it all in. And then 'Dick' comes, puts me in a storage room and threatens me, then looks like he's going to hit me and I can't help but get scared because I'm so used to someone beating me up and not fight back. After he left, I broke down in tears and couldn't stop myself because I felt like shit and he made me realize how god damn hopeless I was.

That Alison girl was right, even if I would never admit it to anybody. I act like this because I'm afraid. All of this is too much for me to handle on my own, I know that because it's taking a fucking heck of a toll on me. I'm weak, sick, hurt, depressed and feeling like shit and nobody knows or cares about it.

I'm tired of being alone, too. But I just don't know how to get out of this.