What I Have Become

[LauraPhilly!!]

Story Title: What I Have Become.

Type of story: One Shot.

Main Characters: Xavier.

BTTB rating: T/A.

Genre: Angst.

Does story include spoilers: No.

Any warnings: Reference to Self-harm, Sexual content, and a mild reference to drug taking.

Summary: Xavier tells his story of how he escapes from the never ending feeling of loneliness that has forever changed him from the man he used to be.

People never seem to look past the end of their nose.

They never seem to look outside the norm, to look at other possibilities.

Science and statistics have made people much lazier. They hear a fact and then apply it to every possible life situation. To everything and everybody.

If I were to count the number of surveys, essays, tribunals or laws passed to help teenagers, or young adults as they're supposedly called, not one of them would help me. I am outside the norm, beyond societies expectations.

They say a certain thing happens only to one kind of person, but how do they know. Have they had it happen to themselves, have they done that to themselves? I doubt it, because I am the first to do such a thing, to myself.

You will frown, shake your head and rebuke this statement, insisting that I am not alone in the suffering that I inflict upon myself but, no matter what you say, I know that I am alone. I can feel it, the feeling of being alone is within me and is unshakeable. It is within my foundations. I am meant to feel alone. This is how my life is supposed to be.

My fellow students pass me in the corridor on their way to class. None of them see me. They stop to speak to each other, open their lockers, retrieve books and then they walk towards me and look up and smile, and I feel a glimmer of hope as I stupidly think they are smiling at me, but as usual, they pass me by and I turn to see them hug another friend.

Friend.

I once knew the meaning of this word. I once was able to use the term. Because I had friends, I had great friends, but they never understood me and I still at times felt alone. To compensate for this feeling, I had to inflict a certain pain upon my body to assure myself that I was capable of feeling pain, that I wasn't numb. But then, they discovered me and were naturally horrified.

Now I feel stupid and idiotic for abusing their friendship. They tried to help me; they brought me pamphlets and stayed with me for long hours. They encouraged me to talk to them, to share my innermost worries and feelings. They even arranged an appointment with a doctor that they said could help me. I had promised them that I had stopped.

But this was a lie.

I couldn't stop. It gave me such an adrenaline rush, it still does today. To know the real feeling of pain is unlike any other feeling. In that moment, you feel entirely human, more human than you will ever feel in your entire life. The feeling is unimaginable. You have to perform the act to realise the true awesomeness of the feeling.

My secret remained hidden for weeks until, one day, one of them came to my house, hoping to get me to come outside I guess. She had knocked on the door so gently that only my naïve mother downstairs had heard. As she climbed the stairs to my room, I was inside, midway through one of the most powerful rushes of my life, unaware that my secret was about to be involuntarily revealed. She opened the door and gasped at the sight before her.

At first, I couldn't understand why she was so shocked. Looking into her eyes, I usually warm, brown, soft eyes, I saw shock, horror and cold, and then I looked down, and, for that moment, was looking through her eyes, and it was a horrible sight. Little streaks of blood stained my bed sheet, a little knife beside was knee was also stained for the vile, red liquid. And then looking to my wrist, I saw a bubble of blood rising from the crevice that I had formed on my wrist. Around it were even more, perhaps less red, crevices.

As she fled from the room in horror, I fell back fully onto my bed and my head gratefully hit the soft, feather pillow, a sharp contrast to the pain I could now feel aching from my wrist. But as the minutes passed, I realised that my feeling of pain was my strength and that crying would just be weak. Why should I be ashamed that I was discovered?

This is my chocolate, this is my coffee. This is my adrenaline rush.

Months later, these words still run true for me. Nothing has changed; I am still the way I am. My friends have broken of contact but then again, were they ever really my friends. My darling mother still remains as naïve as ever. I am her only boy. Why would she suspect such a thing of me?

She never really understood the effect that my Dad leaving had on me. I guess like most newly divorced, single mums, she was only really thinking about herself right now, getting over the hole in her heart that had once been filled by a man. A man! Is my father even worth calling that?

As I sit on the bathroom floor, the remaining effects of my fifth adrenaline rush of the day finally wearing off; I can just about hear Mum's Bingo show. Mum is always hoping to get lucky but we're the unluckiest family in the world, so I doubt that she'll ever win anything.

Cutting myself was certainly a cheaper activity that taking drugs. Did it give the same adrenaline rush, I didn't know but it was never an option to me so I had to come up with other ways of escaping the never ending ocean that is my life.

After wiping the blood away from my wrist, I stand up and walk down the stairs. Throwing my jacket over my shoulder, I pause at the door while telling my mother that I'm going out. She tells me she hopes that I have a good time and I roll my eyes as I close the door behind me. She will never understand what I am going through.

Things are not all bad though at the moment, I am pleased to say. I have found another way, just as enjoyable that will also allow me to feel real, to feel that adrenaline rush.

These days, I avoid the main streets of Summer Bay, especially the beach. The place that I once lived on most of the day, the waves that I once conquered held little importance for me now. I instead retreated to the dark streets where my fellow sufferers lurked, like vampires hiding from the light. We were not meant to have the same pleasures as the ordinary people.

Turning around the corner of Baker's Str. I headed straight for the dirty blonde girl who was sitting in the middle of a large group of guys and girls, smoking a fag lazily. She looked up as she saw me and reluctantly reached her hand up to mine and I pulled her into my arms. She didn't smile. This thing that we had was never her idea but Billy, who was looking up at me with a fag sticking out of his mouth, had felt that I needed it.

"You've been going cold for a while now, mate," he had said, while slapping his arm against my shoulder. "I've got a little surprise for you."

Clicking his fingers to our fellow group members, they smiled and from the group of girls behind them pulled out the dirty blonde girl that I now had arm around, tightly.

"You have some fun with her," said Billy, pushing her into my arms. "She'll give you a good time."

So, here I am now, feeling cold like I had when Billy first gave her to me. Pulling her away back to the dark Baker's Str. I exchanged a wink with Billy who smiled to himself as we disappeared around the corner.

Without giving her time to undress, I ripped her clothes open and pushed her up against the wall. She was a smart girl; she knew it would be stupid to object to my actions. As I entered her, I felt the rush become stronger and stronger as she moaned. She moaned so loud, and this encouraged me to push harder and harder. Finally, at the pinnacle point of our exchange, I moaned my loudest yet and then relaxed.

Stepping back from her, she collapsed onto the ground, gathering the remnants of her clothes around her. Zipping my fly shut, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. Forcing my tongue into her mouth, I kissed her for several minutes. She, again, didn't protest. Finally pulling back, I smiled at her, satisfied.

"Again. Tomorrow."

She nodded and I walked away, leaving her holds the rags that were her clothes. I turned back to look at her, and could just about see her naked body in the dark alleyway.

Billy was right; she did give him a good time.

I pause, taking a moment to reflect on how much has changed in my life, how much I have changed. As I look at my wrists, I see the scars that remain from my daily adrenaline rush.

Who am I, no, what I am, is no longer recognisable to me. I don't think about what it is that I become. I just life my life. For this is what I have become. It is not something that can be changed.

I am who I am.

I am alive. Even though I might as well be the walking dead. For I am alone.

It is a small price to pay for what I have become...

This is a departure from the usual One Shots that I write but looking around the board, I saw that hardly any Fan Fics had been written solely about Xavier so I decided to take the challenge upon myself. The seriousness and depth of this story has nothing whatsoever to do with me or my personal life, I just merely felt that if I was going to write a One Shot about Xavier, it should be something that people wouldn't easily forget.

I hope that I have achieved that!

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