Title: Broken
Summary: A lonely boy thought he had found a true friend and possibly love. What happens when he discovers he was wrong.
Word Count: 499
Rating: M
Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, Little, Brown, et. al. No profit was made and no copyright infringement is intended. The story is mine.
This is a slash fic and mentions male on male sexual relations.


He never wanted her attention, especially not like this.

"Did you really think that would be you someday, Edward? Did you really think he'd ever want you that way? That he'd touch you...kiss you...fuck you?"

Her voice was soft, but laced with scorn. Each word was like the lash of a whip on my fragile ego.

She laughed, a soft, sweet sound that was in perfect contradiction to her words. "Silly Edward. Stupid Edward. He's never wanted you. Why would he? You're nothing but a pathetic little loser. I mean really, the captain of the football team, wanting you? The emo artist? Not. Going. To. Happen."

Her words, sharp as knives and just as deadly, pierced my soul. She was right. Why would he ever want me. No one did, not even my family. My mother made sure I was fed and clothed, but she didn't care about who I was or what I did. My brother, he might have cared, but he graduated last year and left for college. He's not looked back since. Then there's my father. He acts a good game when other people are around. When we're alone though, that's a whole other story. He makes sure I know exactly how disappointed he is with me, and what a failure I am.

"Run along now, Eddie. Go home to your pathetic little life, and stop dreaming of things you're never going to have."

There was no reason to stay, not anymore. Now that I knew he didn't want me. He had someone else, someone perfect. Seeing them, the way they kissed and touched, this was not their first time together. That was so clear to me now. They had always been together, and I was just a silly little diversion. Or worse, a joke.

She was right, why would he ever want me? I was nothing but a loser, pitiful and weak. Walking out the door I barely registered the people I passed. Somewhere in my head I vaguely acknowledged that Mike was calling my name; but I ignored him and continued walking. My feet moved without conscious thought, step after step.

My mind was stuck replaying the events from earlier that night. Over and over I saw them, together. His body, soft and golden in the moonlight and slick with sweat, as he thrust into Peter. The sound of flesh meeting flesh and panting breaths tormented me. His whispered, "I love you, Peter."

Why couldn't it have been me? Why didn't he want me?

Why would he?

I walked until there was nowhere left to go. Dropping to my knees at the edge of the ocean I contemplated my life, my future. There was nothing left for me here. No hope for a future with the one person I thought truly cared about me.

Dawn finally broke, and with it came clarity. This is my life, and I'm going to make it one worth living.

My life, my future, will be bright.