So this is my first story. It's pretty sad taking into account why I was inspired to write it in the first place. If I have any grammatical, spelling or vocabulary mistake, I apologize. English is not my mother tongue, but I prefer to write in foreign languages. Even so, please tell me these mistakes for future references.

Hope you enjoy.

Danise Nowak

Ch. 1 "Just kicking a ball"

The football flew through the field with the perfect amount of force and speed, landing at the feet of my teammate. I stopped, waiting for him to shoot with all his might at the goal. When he did it and the ball entered the goal perfectly, I let out the breath I was holding. There was a loud whistle from the referee signaling the end of the game. All of my teammates ran, smashing into the poor guy that made the last goal. They were laughing and screaming about the achieved victory.

I just watched.

I was never one of those guys that liked to hug or be hugged. I preferred having my personal space, which was obvious for others to see. That's why no one approached me at the end of the game. Well, that and the fact that I wasn't the one who scored.

I sighed and started walking through the field until I reached the benches where the coach was. He put one of his big hands in my shoulder and squeezed it. I looked at him without saying a thing.

"You could have scored, Lovino."

"I know."

"And why didn't you?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw all my teammates. The guy who scored was laughing and his eyes sparkled with happiness. He was a new member of the team and because of that he hadn't expected to play in the first game after he entered. So, when the coach called him, he was extremely nervous and I had seen it. When I gave him the ball, I was expecting him to at least try to score because to achieve a place on the team, you had to do something amazing. It was either that, or remain in the shadows for eternity.

"I didn't want to," I replied shoving the hand of the coach off my shoulder.

He just smiled that stupid smile he always gave me. I ignored him and continued walking. The game took place on the school grounds, so I was able take a shower before going home. As I expected, the showers were empty. The others were still celebrating outside and wouldn't come in until fifteen minutes later. Which meant that I had only fifteen minutes to shower and change.

"Dammit," I murmured when the cold water of the shower touched my skin, "stupid water." However, I liked the cold feeling after an exhausting game. It was refreshing. I looked at my arms and I felt guilty again. Two tiny cuts adorned my left wrist. They were barely healed and the skin was still red around the wounds. I had made them in a moment of desperation. Since that moment guilt had been chasing me and I was scared. I was scared of the feeling I had when I sliced my wrist.

I turned off the shower and got dressed. When I was preparing my things to leave the showers started to get full of sweaty football players.

"Oh, Vargas is leaving," one of them said in a malicious tone. Marcus if I remembered the name correctly.

"No time to celebrate, Vargas?"

"Why would I celebrate with you?" I said looking to the one who talked. It was the same group that always seems to have fun harassing me.

"Always too cocky, Vargas," Marcus said taking one step towards me. I didn't move. I had learnt that those bastards were worse if I attempted to resist.

He took another step and placed one hand in my shoulder. I trembled involuntarily.

"Let go bastard," I murmured, but Marcus only smiled while holding tighter.

"Aren't we your teammates, Lovino? Or are we not enough to be with the all mighty super football player Lovino Vargas?" Marcus's friends laughed at his words. I could feel all the glares they were giving me.

"You are just jealous because you losers can't even score when there are no defenses."

Immediately I regretted my words. Me and my stupid mouth. Every time I was cornered, I tended to open my mouth to say nothing but nonsense and my words were the ones that usually brought me trouble.

"What?" said an infuriated Marcus.

Well, if I had already started this game, why not end it?

"What I said, asshole," I said with a cocky smile.

"You bastard…."

"Guys, shouldn't we celebrate?"

The voice interrupted Marcus's wrath, causing him to turn around. It was the same guy I passed the ball to for the final goal. He was smiling innocently with his arms crossed and a smile on his lips. His blue eyes were looking directly at Marcus.

"Yeah, we should."

Marcus dropped me slowly and turned to the new guy.

"You are right, Alfred."

They retired to the showers, cursing me under their breath. Alfred stayed in the same spot.

"Hey bro, thanks for the pass in the game."

I frowned. That boy was an idiot and his voice was full of a sick cheerful tone that I disliked immediately.

"Whatever," I said passing him.

"Hey, seriously man, thanks."

"Shut up."

The last thing I heard from him before closing the door was a low chuckle. I cursed him again while walking down the sidewalk. My house was a little bit far from the school, so I had to take a bus and walk another two blocks to arrive, but the trip was always relaxing. It was a moment where I could think all by myself, without distractions or annoying people. A moment where I could think about how I was a disgrace.

I was sitting in the back of the bus, watching the houses, the lamps, and the lights pass. The all mighty super football player. Marcus's words were still dancing in my head. I never intended to be seen like that. I just wanted to play for the little time I had. I just wanted to enjoy while I could.

The bus stopped and I got off quickly. The sky was completely dark by now. It was late and he was not going to be happy. Even so, I didn't speed up while walking. I was enjoying the last drops of peace before arriving at the door of my house.

Seconds after I opened the door, I was engulfed by the arms of my little brother, Feliciano. He was only one year younger than me, but acted like an eight year old kid. He was such a spoiled child. But he was my fratello.

"Lovino," said Feliciano without taking his arms off me. Feliciano was one of those people who didn't know about personal space. He was always hugging people. Always. We were on opposite sides of the spectrum.

"Feliciano get off," I said pushing him. He pouted and took my hand.

"But, fratello, I didn't see you today at school." Feliciano started to walk to the kitchen without releasing my hand, so I had to follow him there. "I made you dinner. Your favorite pasta. How was the game? Did you win? Did you score?"

Feliciano kept talking while I grabbed a fork and started eating the spaghetti he prepared. It was delicious, like everything Feliciano cooked. That's what I thought, but I had stopped tasting food a long time ago. I barely remember the flavor of the pasta my mother cooked, or the Risotti of my dad. I remember the taste of Feliciano's cuisine, but the food that was in my mouth was like ash.

"Lovino?"

My brother's voice took me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me with worried eyes, probably asking himself if he had done something wrong.

"Sorry Feli, I'm tired. We won."

Feliciano nodded and opened his mouth to start talking again, but another deep voice interrupted him.

"Don't ignore you brother, Lovino."

The words were said in a harsh way, making me frown. Grandpa was standing by the door looking at him with angry eyes.

"I wasn't ignoring him, dammit," I told him.

"That's not what I saw," said my grandfather, approaching the chair in which Feliciano was sitting. "Why did you arrive so late?"

"Lovino had a game, Nonno. He won!" Feliciano clapped with enthusiasm, but grandpa frowned while looking at me.

"You are still playing silly games? I have told you to stop. You're wasting your time."

Those were the words he always said when someone mentioned me playing football. He despised the idea of me playing. He said I was no good so I should focus on more important things.

"At least you scored?"

"No, I didn't."

"See, why continue with something that you are not good at?"

"Shut up!" I told him, standing up violently. "I do it because I want to, old man."

"Don't talk to me li…."

"Fuck it. I don't care. I'm going to sleep."

"Lovino!" he screamed, but I ignored him and ran from the kitchen. I climbed the stairs two by two and closed my door. Once inside I remembered the food Feliciano made for me. I hadn't finished eating. Well, I was not enjoying it so it didn't really matter that I left it there. Feliciano would eat it.

I let myself fall in the bed and covered my face with my hands.

Why? Why am I alive?

Guess what? Abby Keeper offered to edit this story! *Claps* I will be re-uploading the chapters once they are edited.

Once again, thanks Abby Keeper. :)

Danise Nowak