Elias

I wake up at 4:45am. I hate waking up early but I've done it for years. My internal clock is fucked. I sigh getting out of bed and changing from my pajama pants to my workout clothes. Baggy basketball shorts and a long sleeve thermal. It's still really cold outside so I compensate. I hate working out in a shirt, the way it scratches me and rubs bugs me. But I can't run without a shirt on, not in my area. I look at the clock on the stove and see it's 4:50am. I grab a water bottle and put it in the fridge for when I get back. I don't like eating breakfast. It makes me feel sick. Eating early in the morning is not for me. I'll eat something when I get back from my run. I open the door and start running.

It's 5am so not many people are up so I take advantage of that and run on the road. Sidewalks have cracks, they're uneven, and more work than their worth. I start jogging and take my normal path. As the sun starts to rise, I go from an easy jog, to a run. I run until rush hour traffic hits. That's when I head back to Liams house. It's not my house, definitely not my home. I've never had a home. I don't think I ever will.

As I walk through the door I go to the fridge and grab the water bottle in the fridge. I look at the clock on the stove. It's 6:33am now. It's about the time I usually get back. I have no clue if Liam is here or not. So I stay quiet. I go up to my room and look to grab something to eat. I'm not hungry but I know I need the fuel for my workout. I grab a bagel and go back downstairs. I throw it in the toaster and grab the grape jelly. I spread it on my bagel and shove it down my throat. Literally. I hate eating in the mornings, that's no joke. But working out before eating is always a bad idea. After eating my breakfast and drinking my water I throw my trash away and go down to the basement. This is where Liam trained me when I first moved in with him. He is the one who taught me how to use the machines. He's the closest thing I have to a brother but I would never describe him as one. He's greedy, selfish, psychotic, and he's an addict. He tried to get me hooked but I shot that down immediately. I need my head to be as clear as possible. Not that it really is ever. There's too much to think about, to worry about. I started with arms. Bicep curls, reverse curls, concentration curls, all the curls. I made sure my arms were always strong. If I'm going to be throwing punches I need my arms to be as strong as possible. To be able to take the brunt of the hits, to try and hit them as hard as I can, to leave some lasting damage, my arms need to be strong.

After finishing my arms I work on my shoulder and back. My arms need the support of my back and shoulder muscles to give that impact. Liam doesn't have any fancy equipment. He has a bench, and some weights. A small mirror on one wall and that's it. The basement isn't big by any means, and all the equipment is old, worn, and rusty. He probably got it off the side of the road or on Craigslist for cheap. I'm not complaining, it gets the work done, you just have to know how to use it.

I finished up the rest of my workout, doing pushups, sit ups, curls, planks, squats, lunges, etc. I hated working out when I first started. I couldn't lift much, I didn't know how to do any workouts and Liam made sure if I did it wrong I would be miserable. He would use his belt buckle or his fists if I messed up, if my form wasn't perfect in his eyes. If I dropped the weights he would backhand me so hard I saw stars. Over time I got use to it. His hits stoped effecting me as much and over time my form became good. I can't stand it when people touch or hit me. After a few months I fought back. I had put my all into building muscle and getting strong punches and after a few months it worked. He was watching me work on my triceps and my 'angle wasn't good enough' and when he walked over to me and started taking his belt off I beat him to it. I punched him hard in the face and he went down. He wasn't expecting me to hit him so hard. After that he started putting me in the ring. I started winning because I wouldn't let myself loose. Now I've lost a couple times, sadly I'm not fucking invincible. After loosing I get a bunch of shit from Liam, but mostly it's all in my head. These fucking voices don't leave me alone. Sometimes it feels like I have another person in my head. I know I don't I'm not that crazy. I've read up on it and I think it's a mix of depression, and some type of anxiety. I try not to let it bother me but it does. They're the ones that told me to kill that fucking asshole, the ones to tell me I was fine with Liam. They keep me safe sometimes. At least I think they do. I'm not sure what they want from me, but I would tear them out of my head if I could. If I loose a fight then I'm all up in my head. They tell me another person is going to find me, trap me, control me. That I'm worthless and a bunch of other shit. I'm sure you've heard a bunch of this before. I refuse to go get put on meds. I know how they make you. The turn you numb, make you think that nothing matters, it makes you sick. I refuse to put myself through that.

I finish up my workout and I'm sweaty, exhausted, and dizzy. That's how I know it was a good workout. Working out usually writes those voices. The harder I go, the less I think, the less they mess with me. It's a win-win. I get stronger, the voices leave me the fuck alone. I go to the kitchen to look at the time. 1:04pm. No wonder I'm dizzy, I'm hungry. I walk over to the fridge and see nothing but some cheese and milk that's probably expired. I turn to the pantry and find a pack of ramen. It's chicken flavored, not my favorite but it works. I think beef is the best. As I wait for the water to boil I hear the whispers start up. I think I've gotten pretty good at ignoring them. Sometimes I have issues focusing, and trying to understand what I actually want. Right now I'm feeling kind of paranoid. I feel the anxiety crawl over my skin. I know it's not real, I know it's all in my head. I ignore it as best as I can. I put the ramen in the water and start stirring it. I look out the kitchen window and I don't see Liams car in the driveway. He must not be home. A few minutes later and I'm standing over the counter eating my ramen. It's not very filling but it does its job. I go to my room and take a shower, starting to get ready for work. I have a fight tomorrow and I need to rest beforehand but I decided to pick up an extra shift. The more I worked the closer I am to getting my own apartment. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Another chapter down. I know nobody is reading it yet but maybe in a few months as I post more chapters that'll change. I started writing this because I had this itch to make this an actual story, not one just in my head. I'm currently writing this in my English class instead of writing my essay. Oh well, my teacher will be fine.

Anyways, any comments? Please tell me, but be nice.

1423- Words