Rating: I don't know yet so I am just putting it down as T. May change later.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: There could be sensitive topics such as contemplative suicide, attempted suicide, self harm, and not to mention homosexuality. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, read at your own risk.

Grey clouds littered the skies above as a gentle snow was streaming to the ground to layer the earth with white. Along the street were townhouses made of ashen bricks that only seemed to add to the already darkened atmosphere. Perhaps it was just the weather that just made everything seem so somber or perhaps it was the young man that was walking down the street, hunched over with his hands stuffed deep in his winter jacket pockets and his head facing the ground that looked about ready to give up. He was soaked to the bone from earlier where a car had driven straight through a pile of slush which had came cascading down on the heedless boy whose only thought was to get home. Now his only thought was a warm bath. His teeth chattered and his hands were shaking as he stepped onto the porch of his home. As usual, the house attached to his on the left sat an old man with a long white beard and luminous blue eyes. The old man raised a hand and grinned in greeting to the boy who only found it in himself to nod back.

Once inside, the boy carefully slid off his shoes, attempting to not make a sound. He wanted to avoid the brutal words of the man he called father. Of course, since when did things ever go the way he wanted? Never.

"Jack? Is that you?" A surly voice inquired from a room at the end of the hall. "I was hoping you weren't going to make it home today. Maybe I should have just locked the door and let you freeze to death!" A harsh chuckle was heard at the end of that. Jack simply ignored him and made his way upstairs.

After he made it to his room he shut the door and locked it. Jack ran a hand through his alabaster hair and then proceeded to remove his wet clothes. He made his way to the bathroom and turned on the water, giving it a minute to warm up. In his peripheral vision he could see himself in the mirror and he gave himself a glance over. He never did find himself attractive. His body was lanky and his hair wasn't a natural color which immediately defined him as some sort of freak. His eyes to him were a dull blue when in reality, there were radiant. He just couldn't' see it in himself. Steam started to rise so he plugged the drain and sat down in the water as it promptly began to fill up. He didn't know how long he stayed in there and frankly, he didn't really give two shits. It was only after the water began to lose it's warmth did he get out and put on a pair of navy sweatpants.

Day after day, it was the same thing for him. He wasn't sure it would ever change and he found himself not caring if it didn't. It wouldn't matter anyway, even if things did get better, he would always have the scars, he would always hear the words of his father echo through his head, and he would always hear the screams in his nightmares. It was routine for him now. Everyday, he would wake up, go to school and deal with all the bullshit people dished out towards him. Then he would make his way home, deal with all the bullshit his father prepared for him and then after that, he would try to sleep only to get plagued with nightmares. It was a never ending ritual that he was about ready to give up on.

"JACKSON!" Suddenly there was a rush of footsteps as they made their way up the stairs. Jack ran to the door to unlock it, but it was too late. His father had reached the door and after realizing it was locked, Jack could literally feel the thickness of his anger through the door. "OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!" Jack made his way to the door and clicked it unlocked, preparing himself for the worst.

The door burst open hitting Jack and causing him to fall to the floor. He looked up to see the flaming anger in his fathers brown eyes. "Dad I didn-" Before he could get anymore words out his father had his hands around his neck as he lifted him off the ground.

"Shut your mouth." Jack did as he was told and clamped his mouth together. Greg, his father tossed Jack to the ground. "Do you know how hard I work to make sure we can live in this house, Jackson?" Jack nodded, waiting for his father to blow up. It was bound to happen. It did everyday. "I pay these bills, I pay for your food, for your stupid clothes, for all your idiotic shit that you need and in return I ask for you to just follow the rules." Jack stared at his father. His voice was calm, but like they say, it was the calm before the storm. "Do you know what rule you broke today?" Greg's fierce brown eyes held Jack frozen in spot.

"I-I locked the door, sir." Jack hated him. It was just a stupid door. He was naked when he locked it so excuse him if he didn't want his father barging in on him. But he wasn't about to voice his thoughts because he had already learned what that could cause.

Greg nodded. "You should have known better. I've told at least a dozen times so for you to forget you must be pretty stupid. Of course I already know that. I mean you can't do one thing right. Have you even found a job yet? Probably not. Nobody would want to hire a faggot like you. Just imagine what your mother would have said if she had know about you." Jack flinched, bringing up his mother was a sensitive topic for him. Just as long as he didn't bring up... "I think it's best that Amy died. You probably would have influenced her to be a fag just like you." That was it. That was the trigger for him. Jack could feel the burning in his eyes. "Strike a nerve did I? Good! You need to be punished. Everything about you is wrong. You're not good enough to have this life. You think you deserve better? You don't. Everything that happens to you, you deserve. Amy probably hates you right now. She's probably watching you thinking how much of a disgust you are." Greg turned to leave, feeling satisfied seeing his son on the floor with tears running down his face.

"Amy..." Greg turned back towards Jack, a scowl on his face. How dare he think he can continue to talk to him.

"Did you say something?" His voice laced with venom and hatred. His son was nothing but a reminder of terrible things and he hated it. Jack looked up to the monster.

"Mom and Amy... They...They didn't deserve to die." He muttered. Jack didn't care if Amy would have grown to hate him, he just knew that she was supposed to be alive. Despite what his father said, Jack already knew his mother had loved him. That was his little secret.

Greg frowned at him. Scoffing he turned back to the door and made his way out. Before he closed the door he gave one last look at Jack and with one last remark he closed the door behind him. "But you do."

After the door closed, Jack slammed his hands on the floor. The tears flooded down his face, and he felt so hollow and so hurt. Why? Why did his father do this? He sat up and crawled over to his closet. He leaned up against the door and brought his knees close to himself, burying his face within them to release his tears. His hands gripped at his hair.

"Pathetic."

"Freak."

"Weak."

"Worthless."

"Nothing."

"Insignificant."

"But you do..."

Words resounded around in his head. They came from everywhere. Memories of his father and the words of classmates, they encased his thoughts. But it was true. He deserved to die. It wasn't supposed to be them. He should have been the one. How can he be the one still breathing and living while they were six feet under the ground? This wasn't fair.

Jack had sat there until he raised his head and looked out his window. From outside a loud engine noise sounded and he wiped his eyes. His vision cleared and he got to his feet, making his way over to the window in a sluggish manner. His chest still felt heavy and his heart ached in ways he didn't know was possible. He pulled back his curtain and a little ways down the street he could see a moving truck being pulled into a driveway, followed by a little silver car. Jack watched as a very large man stepped out and he could hear from where he was the orders the man started giving the other men with the furniture. Just as he was about to close the curtains he noticed another person step out of the car. This one looked young, maybe around his own age. He couldn't help but watch them for a moment before the young boy disappeared into the house. Sighing, he closed the curtains and went and sat on his bead. With the distraction gone, his only focus was on the pain of his insides. He still couldn't believe how much emotional pain could hurt more than physical.

He rubbed at his eyes, now red and puffy, and then looked over at his nightstand. He opened the drawer causing over three different medicine bottles to rattle. He picked up the tylenol and twirled the bottle in his hand, listening to the pills rattle around inside. His mind raced with the possibilities. Do I take them? He felt the pull of a promising eternal sleep. All it would take was a glass of water and the bottle of pills. Suddenly his mother's smiling face appeared in his mind and he felt guilty. Despite what his father said, he knew his mom loved him.

When he was only thirteen, he had told his mother that he kept thinking men were more attractive instead of girls. His mother had laughed and hugged him, telling him that no matter what he would always be her little boy. He remembered his mother had actually told him; "You know what? I like men too so I don't blame you." Her smile had been wide and her embrace felt warm. It had felt great knowing his mother as behind him and supported him. But then... A month later she had died. She had died and he was suddenly left alone to deal with his father. It wasn't until he was fourteen that his father discovered his sexuality and he went livid. Jack had the scars to prove it. It was moments like this he missed his mother. If he could have anything in the world, it would be another one of her tender hugs.

Jack put the bottle back into the drawer and pulled out another bottle full of melatonin. He grabbed one pill and popped into his mouth and swallowed it. Placing that bottle back he took one last glance at the tylenol. Maybe tomorrow... He shook his head, and slammed it shut and turned away from it. He could see through a little opening in his curtains that it was just starting to turn dark. He laid there until his eyes felt heavy and his mind grew foggy. Jack felt sleep finally take over him and he silently prayed tonight he would get some peaceful sleep without nightmares.

Well there you have it. Chapter one! I wanted to make sure that everyone would get a feel of who Jack was and what he has been through. So this was the introduction and I really hoped you liked it.

Also, you probably guess, the people that moved in down the street were Stoick and Hiccup. The only thing I need now is to know what Hiccup I should use. I like both the young Hiccup and the Older Hiccup. But I don't know which one I should use. So if you could leave your opinions in a review or message me them that would be great! Thanks for reading!