This story is gonna be dedicated to suicide prevention month. I hope you guys enjoy.

Chase's POV:

I try to cover up my bloody nose with my hand as I walk up our driveway. No way was I going to let Mr. Davenport see this. No way was I going to let any of my siblings see it either. I open the door. Thankfully, no one is in the living room or kitchen so I race into the bathroom. I lock the door and stare at myself in the mirror.

"Okay, on the count of three, Chase, remove your hand so you can see how bad it's bleeding," I say to myself. Then I start counting in my head. "One, two... three!" I quickly remove my hand. I look in the mirror at myself and there is blood dripping down from my nose onto the sink. I grab two tissues. One to hold my nose so that it will stop the bleeding and one to clean up the mess I made on the sink.

As soon as I clean up the mess on the sink. I tilt my head back. This usually helps the bleeding to stop. How did I get a bloody nose? Well, I'll tell you how. There are always a group of kids making fun of me at school. At first, it was more like teasing, but it's been so bad recently. I told one of the bullies to stop today. He looked at me in anger and sucker-punched me right in the nose.

I started to cry a little. They mocked me even then. I told them I was going to go tell one of my teachers but they threw me up against the lockers and said, "Tell anyone about this, and you'll never live it down, Chase." They spat in my face before putting me down. Again, normally this would be when I go tell an adult and I never worry about this ever again. But I can't. It's like I'm paralyzed. You can try to move but you physically can't. You're stuck.

The bleeding stops and I put the tissues in the garbage can. I throw a few items on top of the tissues so if anyone were to look into the trashcan, they'd see random stuff not a bunch of blood stained tissues. I open the door of the bathroom and turn off the lights. I head back into the living room. Tasha is in the kitchen. "Hey Chase! How was school?" She asks"It was fine," I reply.

I sat on the couch and notice my phone on the coffee table. I grab it and turn it on. There is a whole bunch of text notifications on my screen. Confused, I unlock my phone and start reading them:

Unknown Caller (1)845-322-8070:

You're so stupid Chase.

Unknown Caller (1)845-367-4512:

You're so short and ugly.

Unknown Caller (1)845-412-6780:

No one likes you.

Unknown Caller (1)845-255-7032:

You're such a nerd, Chase. Who wants to be friends with someone as stupid as you?

Who would say something like this to me? Tears start to form in my eyes. "Chase, you okay?" Tasha asks. I must have been so baffled that she must have sensed something was wrong. I clear my throat. "No, I'm fine. I was just reading a really sad meme on Instagram," I lie. "Aw! Okay," She says with a smile.

I swallowed hard. I hate lying to my family. But, what choice do I have? One by one, I delete the messages from my phone. Hopefully, this was only a one time thing. I then blocked the callers so that they couldn't text me anymore. That should take care of that. I get up from the couch with my phone and head back down into the lab.

I hear my phone go off one more time:

Unknown Caller (1)845-640-3123:

Go kill yourself.

I'm struck. Paralyzed. Someone said this to me. This was real. This was no longer some kids who just "pick on me" this was serious. I quickly block that caller. When I turn off my phone again. I start to cry as hard as I could. I lay on the floor and cry myself to sleep.

I found a way to get my fanfics up! Yay! But I will only be working on this one until I get my new computer next week. I hope you guys are going to enjoy this fic.

Alright, I'm out,

-Angie