Can, chapter 1
Deryck Whibley had a sneering kind of laugh, the type that could latch itself onto the top of your spine, wrap coldly around your neck and then shoot down your spine with a fiery chill until it spreads over your rib cage and into your whole body, causing you to wince, causing him to laugh even more. His laugh was contagious to everyone in the high school. Everyone but me. Probably because I'm always the one he targets.
Me. Mike Dirnt, the center of attention but in the bad way. I'm a normal 17 year old. The key word being normal. Normal isn't good enough for the world, no not when you're a teenager. Perfect, is what you have to be. Perfect and nothing less. That's what they all are. Perfect on the outside. But that's all that matters right? Not the fact that inside them, their already blackened hearts are pounding out rotting, black blood through their poison veins. I hate them all so much!
I let out an angered cry and slammed my palm against the full length mirror in front of my kneeling figure. I looked up at the reflecting glass and glanced at myself, then let out a shallow growl and looked quickly away.
My eyes were dull and glazed over with tears. Grey shadows lay under them, showing my lack of sleep. My hair was tasseled and greasy from 4 days and nights lying in my bed, in the same clothes doing nothing, just stewing in my own confusion and loneliness.
My hand stayed pressed against the cold mirror and I stared at my arm, the blood was slowly crawling down it to meet my shoulder then dripped down my back. The cut was deep, and I was mesmerized by it. The blood flow was slowing and I knew it would stop soon. But I didn't want it to.
I brought my sore eyes down to meet Papercut lying on the floor. I named my knife - laugh at me if you like, I'll just block out the sound.
Papercut was a sharp knife used for cutting wire in my art class. I stole it after I'd managed to accidentally cut myself with it. The rush was so amazing I knew I had to feel it again. And I did, a lot.
My body was covered in scars dating back to this time last year. I pulled up my jeans leg and stared down at my leg. Two weeks ago, the day before summer holidays, I had made my favorite cut.
I sat in the bathroom, Deryck and his friends laughter still ringing in my ears. I took out Papercut and carved the words 'Don't laugh at me' into my skin on my left leg.
It felt good - somehow like a revenge.
I'm not depressed by the way. I'm just angry.
*********
I dipped my fingers into the black paint, it felt cool against my skin and I smiled at the feeling. The paint was soft, and gentle in wrapping itself around my skin, invading my pores. With one swift motion I brought my hand out of the paint and ran it along the soft blue walls surrounding my room. I made it across two walls before the paint on my fingers grew dry and then admired my work.
I had been in here all day. The fifth day of my solitary summer confinement. My room was starting to get on my nerves by now. So I decided it needed a make-over. The paint had been lying in my closet for weeks, waiting to be used. There was only one brush, a small art brush in my room so I had to make use of that.
I had painted words all over my wall, lyrics of songs and quotes. My favorite of course being 'Don't laugh at me'.
In between these words I painted pictures that expressed how I felt.
A small rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck. To show how scared I am.
A young boy on a swing, in an empty, dirty forgotten place. To show how alone I feel.
The other pictures were of angels. I don't know what my angel looks like so I painted many versions, hoping to get just one right. One of these pictures were of a heart, flying down a golden trail of light. My angel may not have a physical appearance. But I can rest assured that it has love for me. To me this picture makes the most sense.
I heard a soft knock on my door and gasped. My eyes met themselves in the mirror across from me and I scanned the scene in front of me. I was wearing nothing but a knee length pair of gray shorts. They were heavy material and covered in different color paints. You could see the cuts on my legs, including my favorite. There was still some dried blood caked over my skin and I knew I'd have to cover myself.
I had no shirt on and you could see scars and fresh cuts coating my arms and stomach. I ran my fingers lightly over the scars on my stomach and stared at them through the mirror.
Beautiful...
"Mike! Open the door!" My sister's voice rang through the door and broke me out of my trance. I jumped a little and opened my mouth to cry out but found my voice lost. I haven't talked in over 4 days the most that has come out of my mouth was the occasional growl when the mirror caught my reflection. I don't like the mirror.
"Mike, please let me know your ok, let me in." Her voice was starting to crack a little, she was worried. I shook my head. I couldn't let my sister see me like this.
"Hang on." I called out through the door, I felt a little strange, hearing my own voice I almost forgot what it sounded like.
I ran into my bathroom and splashed water over my face and body. I realized that I haven't shaved and I was starting to grow a beard but I ignored it and threw on a long sleeved t-shirt and put on some long pants.
I rushed to the door and opened it just enough so I could get out. I stepped into the hall where my sister stood, a worried look on her face. The light in the hall was blinding and I squinted and leaned against my door, making sure she didn't go in.
"What's up?" I whispered, looking up at Myla.
Myla was 21, she cared about me but recently she had been living her own life and forgetting about her little brother. But when Mom and Dad found out they were going to Spain for two weeks when I got off school, they got Myla to come and stay with me. They knew something was wrong with me.
They're wrong though.
There isn't something wrong with me.
There's everything wrong with me.
************
"Mike, little bro. You know I'm here for you right?" Myla's eyes met mine and automatically I was filled with pressurizing guilt. Her eyes were so pain stricken that it killed me, I know I caused this, it's my fault she was nearly crying right in front of me.
"Mikey, I've been here for 5 days, you haven't talked to me, you haven't even eaten anything. Are you Ok? Please tell me the truth Mikey." She shook her head in sadness and I sighed and looked down at the floor.
I didn't want to hurt her anymore then I already have. But, which way do I go? Do I lie to her? Or tell the truth? Both will hurt her. I realize that I need to make a decision now and I look up at her and nod.
"I'm fine sis, just, teenage hormone crap." I let out a low laugh and she smiles and me. I can see her hesitate as she steps toward me, but she pulls me into a hug and rubs me on the back.
"Come eat dinner with me?" My body tensed up as she pulled away and said this, but I nodded and smiled a little, just to make her happy.
"Great." She gave me a sincere smile and I told her I'd be 10 minutes and went back into my room.
2 minutes later I stepped into the shower. The water was warm, not too hot but it stung against some of my cuts pretty badly so I made the shower quick. I got dressed in something that covered all my skin except my face and hands. Happy with the result I put on my facade and left the room to go join my sister for dinner.
"Hey sis what's for eats?" My fake smile dropped the second I walked into the dining room when I saw who was there with Myla. Myla stood at the end of the table, leaning against the back of a chair, smiling up at me. And a middle aged lady sat on one of the tables chairs, a plate of food in front of her and a notebook next to the food. She looked friendly, her face was wrinkled and even more so when she smiled up at me, her blonde hair was short and thick, it went just past her chin then curved in. She looked like a nice person but I had a feeling she had a PHD. That couldn't be good. I'm clearly not sick physically, so that only left one thing.
"Hi...um." I raised my eyebrows, expecting to hear 'Dr. something' from this lady. She smiled and stood up, reaching a hand out to me.
"Hello Mike, I'm Caroline. Nice to meet you. I'm a friend of Myla's, she's told me all about you." A friend of Myla's. I can't really see this 40 year old woman dancing in night clubs with my 21 year old sister, it's getting more and more obvious.
"You're a doctor aren't you?" I asked, my voice cold. Myla's gave me a glare and I knew I'd embarrassed her. Caroline looked a little flustered and she let out an awkward laugh and sat down again. She fidgeted with her notebook and cutlery, making sure they were all parallel with the table, then looked up at me with sad eyes.
"Mike, Myla told me that you haven't left your room in five days, and that you might be having some social issues. I was thinking we could have a...."
"Well you thought wrong! I'm not hungry anymore sis, I'm going to bed I don't feel too good." I spat out, glaring at the doctor and then stormed up the stairs. I barged into my room and slammed the door shut, letting out an angry cry and kicking the first thing that came in connection with my foot, I didn't care what it was. I slid down my door and sat, leaning against it as the tears dripped down my face.
One tear floated it's way down my face and hit off my bottom lip. I let out a shaky sigh and licked my lips, taking in the salty taste off the tear. Why is pain all I taste? I try to eat but everything just tastes so empty, just like sand in my mouth. But the taste of blood and tears are clear to me. Strong tastes that drive my senses completely crazy. I gave up holding in my tears and let out loud sobs, I ran my hands through my hair then screamed and tugged at it.
"Mike, please let me in, please..." My sobs drowned out my sister's begging and I crawled onto my knees, facing the door. I lay my palms flat out on the door and leaned over, my head dropping between my arms, staring at my knees. I know I'm sweating and a mixture of tears and sweat drop to the floor below me. My sobs grow louder and my breathing gets heavy. It's hard to breathe through all the sobbing and I clench one of my hands into a fist and slam it against my door. I can hear Myla crying to me on the other side but I can't concentrate on what she's saying. I listen to my breathes, they're very loud and deep, shaky and labored. My lungs are starting to hurt and my ribcage begins to strain under the pressure of me trying to stretch my lungs. I need more oxygen I feel like I'm dying as I lean my whole body weight against my door. My whole body breaks out into a heavier sweat and my head starts to spin, all I can hear is my breathing and the sobs that are making it so difficult.
Ignoring the pain I take the deepest breath possible at this moment and feeling the fire in my lungs I manage to scream. I scream loudly and then fall, making a loud thud on the floor. I keep breathing deep and manage to cry out.
"What's happening to me?!"
****************
I heard a loud noise and a rush of wind before something hit me hard on the head. I realized the door had been opened as I lay here on the floor, struggling to breathe.
"Oh Mikey, what do I do?" My sister's voice sounded tearful, terrified and far away. She started shouting downstairs for help and I gripped my knees, curling up, digging my nails into the skin. My lungs felt like blocks of ice boxing in a raging fire and the pain was unbearable. I had squeezed my eyes tight shut but I could still feel the room spinning. I could hear screaming and I eventually realized that it was me who was doing the screaming. My throat was scratchy, my head was spinning, my lungs were about to explode, my nails were cutting through my skin my eyes were stinging, my emotions were raw and my body was giving up. I let myself breathe, stopped screaming and loosened my grip on my knees. This was all too much for me and I forced my body to shut down.
*********
A brush of cold air hit my face and I winced. I tried to groan but my raw throat wouldn't let me. My eyes felt like vinegar had just been poured into them and had been left for infection. I tried to open them but it hurt too much and I let out a cry, this time my throat gave way for it but still screamed it's pain.
My head was pounding and my mind was too tired to bother trying to remember what happened.
All of a sudden something wet and cold hit my forehead and I screamed loudly. Oh my lungs felt that. The wet cold thing pressed harder on my forehead and I turned quickly onto my side and before my mind could process the fall, I was lying face first on the floor. My nose had gotten a good hit off the floor and my lungs and throat were burning and when I felt comforting arms wrap around me I was grateful for something that finally wasn't painful. I let out a contented sigh and then someone was whispering in my ear.
"Mikey, you alright? Can you stand up?" Another contented sigh escaped my lips as I recognized the voice that belonged to my next door neighbor, Anastacia.
Anastacia and me were best friends up until we were 12. After that, Anastacia went to boarding school and we drifted apart. During school she was away and during summer she always went to her aunts place in Ireland.
Anastacia's arms wrapped around my waist and she tugged at me to stand up. I tried my best to co-operate but it was difficult.
I was so exhausted and it was affecting my whole body. My eyes felt like mini-deserts were placed in them, with sand shifting everywhere and camels trekking across the gritty stuff, pressing the sand down deeper into my already damaged eyes. My limbs were gone limp and my legs were desperate to crumble into a helpless heap on the floor. My muscles were so stiff that you’d swear I'd been up all night running the length of the state.
But worst of all were my emotions. But the feeling of having someone hold me was amazing. It was like a quenched man stranded for weeks had been given a drink of water. Anastacia turned me around so I was facing her, although I couldn't see her with my eyes shut.
"Mike, I'm going to put you lying on your bed alright?" I slowly nodded then it came to me that I was leaning against her, unable to stand by myself. Since when did I become so dependant?
Anastacia's hands gripped my shoulders and mine clung onto her arms. She made me sit on the bed then lay me down flat. I didn't let go of her arms and I tugged her towards me, I heard her laugh kind of nervously and then she sat next to me, my arms encircled her waist and I pulled her down so she lay next to me. I rested my head on her shoulder and she sighed and put an arm around me.
I felt the tears burning at the back of my eyes when she sighed. Here I was, in the arm's of someone, that's all I ever wanted. To be excepted by someone. But it wasn't real, she didn't care. My tears began to soak the skin on her neck as I silently cried.
My whole body was screaming out to be loved. Just a hug every now and then, a kiss or words that meant something of love.
But my mind knew better.
I knew that by now, it was too late to love me.
*********************
"Morning kiddo." I woke and was greeted with a delicate voice. I felt Anastacia's soft hand on my forehead and she placed a gentle kissed where her hand had just brushed. She had stayed with me... She does care.
Hands wrapped around me and I felt....loved. It was strange but it was soothing and for a few seconds I felt like I was in almost some sort of euphoric dream land where my pillows and blanket were so light that they were nothing but a warm sense covering me, wrapping me up in it's comfort. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but smile. My eyes felt new and refreshed, my muscles relaxed, my throat felt rough still, but nothing that a little water wouldn't cure. And best of all - I felt like a weight was lifted.
I had been screaming shouting cutting crying and letting out so much anger and hate for myself and the cruel world that surrounded me, that I felt as though it had been an amazing relief. The feelings were going I could tell.
The problems still remained. But the past few days and that final breakdown, tore me into little pieces. And now they're laid out in front of my mind, and I just have to slowly put them back together. I can think clearly now.
My mind is free! I'm freeing myself slowly from the depression I'd put myself in.
"Hey Anastacia." My voice came out tired, rough but happy. She smiled more, sensing the happiness in my voice.
"Here, have some water Mikey." I sat up and she handed me a glass of cold water, which I swallowed gratefully. She sat next to me on the bed hugging her knee's and with a huge encouraging, contagious smile on her face.
"Me and your sister have been worried about you, been constantly by your side the past 2 days! You wouldn't wake up you were dead to the world.� She laughed nervously at the word 'dead' considering I could've killed myself, then continued when I didn't say anything. "I like what you did to your walls, the pictures are really pretty."
"Like you." I said blankly, but my eyes told her I meant it. She blushed and laughed a little.
"What have you been up to?" I asked her with a curious look, I wanted her to know I was interested in her life. I was I cared so much about her. I've missed her so much. And she looked after me. I've been emptied of my feelings and filled up with one giving act from this girl. She started telling me about her days, and I listened intensely. She told me about her boyfriends her friends her school her family, everything in her life. For 2 hours we just talked and laughed and the tension was gone and I knew that both of us were back-we were the same old Mike and Anastacia that were before.
"My last boyfriend - Darren, oh he was a sweet-talking little bastard!" She laughed, a fake laugh and I smiled and put my hand over hers.
"He hurt you?" I asked and she nodded.
"Yes." She looked at me with sad eyes, and I saw in them that she made the decision to trust me with her story. "He, told me he loved me, and then I found out he was cheating on me with my best friend, he denied it and convinced me, we carried on as normal, I didn't say anything to my best friend - I guess I was sub-consciously afraid of the truth. But, it came out eventually." I saw her eyes fill up and she hung her head.
"Are you ok Anastacia?" I asked, giving her hand a squeeze.
"He broke my heart Mikey." She burst out into tears and slung onto my chest, I wrapped my arms around her allowed every bit of love and care for her to run through my veins to the tips of my nerves and out of my body and into hers in one hug.
I rubbed my hands up and down her back and whispered to her soothingly and for the first time in years I felt like I had a purpose.
10 minutes later, she raised her head and looked at me with watery eyes.
"Thank you Mikey." She whispered and gave me a weak smile. She looked tired, I lay her down on my bed and I stayed sitting, I reached over, and she watched my hand with her beautiful green eyes. I rested two of my fingers on her eyes, one on each, and closed them gently. She didn't protest and within minutes she’s was breathing into her peaceful sleep. I watched her for a little while, then lay down and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close to me, my face resting in front of hers. I synchronized our breathing and soon was in my own deep slumber.
********
A hand brushed my hair back waking me suddenly. My eyes shot open and my sisters face was hovering over mine, smiling slightly.
"You two are cute together." She whispered and then left. I pulled Anastacia closer to me and watched her wake slowly. She kept her eyes closed and stretched and yawned, then finally opened her beautiful eyes and made contact with my eyes.
"Morning." She whispered and sat up, looking at her watch.
"Oh god I have to see my friends in an hour! I better go!" She turned to me and gave me a quick hug. "I'll come over later ok?" She stood up and turned to leave but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Anastacia." I hesitated and just stared at her beauty for a while. "I love you."
The silence that followed was the most awkward one I've ever experienced. It lasted only 2 seconds but felt as long as 2 years.
"Mikey, Oh god, how do I say this, you're my friend, we have a great history, but...that's all, Mikey, I don't love you. I'm sorry. You're a great memory to me, and we'll talk on the phone when I'm away....but, even being your friend is hard Mikey. I. I can't love you." With that, she gave me a sad smile and left my room, my sanctuary.
She doesn't love me...
She doesn't care...it was pity.
I felt a sharp pain in my chest and my lungs felt suffocated, my breathing became labored and before long, I could taste copper....it was blood. I became terrified that blood was coming up my throat and soon I began to choke on it, the pain in my chest felt like a ripping muscle, and I knew exactly what muscle it was. My heart.
I collapsed on the ground, clutching the covers of my bed in my fists. And I knew what was happening.
I lay down and soon my grip loosened on my bed sheets. My breathing slowed to a stop and the pain became a numb throb. I blocked out all my painful memories, and fixated my mind on a picture of me and Anastacia when we were 10, best friends, with a happy childhood.
I watched this scene like a movie in my head as I lay on my floor, blood pouring from my mouth.
I lay there, dying of a broken heart, taking a beautiful memory with me.
Me. Mike Dirnt, the center of attention but in the bad way. I'm a normal 17 year old. The key word being normal. Normal isn't good enough for the world, no not when you're a teenager. Perfect, is what you have to be. Perfect and nothing less. That's what they all are. Perfect on the outside. But that's all that matters right? Not the fact that inside them, their already blackened hearts are pounding out rotting, black blood through their poison veins. I hate them all so much!
I let out an angered cry and slammed my palm against the full length mirror in front of my kneeling figure. I looked up at the reflecting glass and glanced at myself, then let out a shallow growl and looked quickly away.
My eyes were dull and glazed over with tears. Grey shadows lay under them, showing my lack of sleep. My hair was tasseled and greasy from 4 days and nights lying in my bed, in the same clothes doing nothing, just stewing in my own confusion and loneliness.
My hand stayed pressed against the cold mirror and I stared at my arm, the blood was slowly crawling down it to meet my shoulder then dripped down my back. The cut was deep, and I was mesmerized by it. The blood flow was slowing and I knew it would stop soon. But I didn't want it to.
I brought my sore eyes down to meet Papercut lying on the floor. I named my knife - laugh at me if you like, I'll just block out the sound.
Papercut was a sharp knife used for cutting wire in my art class. I stole it after I'd managed to accidentally cut myself with it. The rush was so amazing I knew I had to feel it again. And I did, a lot.
My body was covered in scars dating back to this time last year. I pulled up my jeans leg and stared down at my leg. Two weeks ago, the day before summer holidays, I had made my favorite cut.
I sat in the bathroom, Deryck and his friends laughter still ringing in my ears. I took out Papercut and carved the words 'Don't laugh at me' into my skin on my left leg.
It felt good - somehow like a revenge.
I'm not depressed by the way. I'm just angry.
*********
I dipped my fingers into the black paint, it felt cool against my skin and I smiled at the feeling. The paint was soft, and gentle in wrapping itself around my skin, invading my pores. With one swift motion I brought my hand out of the paint and ran it along the soft blue walls surrounding my room. I made it across two walls before the paint on my fingers grew dry and then admired my work.
I had been in here all day. The fifth day of my solitary summer confinement. My room was starting to get on my nerves by now. So I decided it needed a make-over. The paint had been lying in my closet for weeks, waiting to be used. There was only one brush, a small art brush in my room so I had to make use of that.
I had painted words all over my wall, lyrics of songs and quotes. My favorite of course being 'Don't laugh at me'.
In between these words I painted pictures that expressed how I felt.
A small rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck. To show how scared I am.
A young boy on a swing, in an empty, dirty forgotten place. To show how alone I feel.
The other pictures were of angels. I don't know what my angel looks like so I painted many versions, hoping to get just one right. One of these pictures were of a heart, flying down a golden trail of light. My angel may not have a physical appearance. But I can rest assured that it has love for me. To me this picture makes the most sense.
I heard a soft knock on my door and gasped. My eyes met themselves in the mirror across from me and I scanned the scene in front of me. I was wearing nothing but a knee length pair of gray shorts. They were heavy material and covered in different color paints. You could see the cuts on my legs, including my favorite. There was still some dried blood caked over my skin and I knew I'd have to cover myself.
I had no shirt on and you could see scars and fresh cuts coating my arms and stomach. I ran my fingers lightly over the scars on my stomach and stared at them through the mirror.
Beautiful...
"Mike! Open the door!" My sister's voice rang through the door and broke me out of my trance. I jumped a little and opened my mouth to cry out but found my voice lost. I haven't talked in over 4 days the most that has come out of my mouth was the occasional growl when the mirror caught my reflection. I don't like the mirror.
"Mike, please let me know your ok, let me in." Her voice was starting to crack a little, she was worried. I shook my head. I couldn't let my sister see me like this.
"Hang on." I called out through the door, I felt a little strange, hearing my own voice I almost forgot what it sounded like.
I ran into my bathroom and splashed water over my face and body. I realized that I haven't shaved and I was starting to grow a beard but I ignored it and threw on a long sleeved t-shirt and put on some long pants.
I rushed to the door and opened it just enough so I could get out. I stepped into the hall where my sister stood, a worried look on her face. The light in the hall was blinding and I squinted and leaned against my door, making sure she didn't go in.
"What's up?" I whispered, looking up at Myla.
Myla was 21, she cared about me but recently she had been living her own life and forgetting about her little brother. But when Mom and Dad found out they were going to Spain for two weeks when I got off school, they got Myla to come and stay with me. They knew something was wrong with me.
They're wrong though.
There isn't something wrong with me.
There's everything wrong with me.
************
"Mike, little bro. You know I'm here for you right?" Myla's eyes met mine and automatically I was filled with pressurizing guilt. Her eyes were so pain stricken that it killed me, I know I caused this, it's my fault she was nearly crying right in front of me.
"Mikey, I've been here for 5 days, you haven't talked to me, you haven't even eaten anything. Are you Ok? Please tell me the truth Mikey." She shook her head in sadness and I sighed and looked down at the floor.
I didn't want to hurt her anymore then I already have. But, which way do I go? Do I lie to her? Or tell the truth? Both will hurt her. I realize that I need to make a decision now and I look up at her and nod.
"I'm fine sis, just, teenage hormone crap." I let out a low laugh and she smiles and me. I can see her hesitate as she steps toward me, but she pulls me into a hug and rubs me on the back.
"Come eat dinner with me?" My body tensed up as she pulled away and said this, but I nodded and smiled a little, just to make her happy.
"Great." She gave me a sincere smile and I told her I'd be 10 minutes and went back into my room.
2 minutes later I stepped into the shower. The water was warm, not too hot but it stung against some of my cuts pretty badly so I made the shower quick. I got dressed in something that covered all my skin except my face and hands. Happy with the result I put on my facade and left the room to go join my sister for dinner.
"Hey sis what's for eats?" My fake smile dropped the second I walked into the dining room when I saw who was there with Myla. Myla stood at the end of the table, leaning against the back of a chair, smiling up at me. And a middle aged lady sat on one of the tables chairs, a plate of food in front of her and a notebook next to the food. She looked friendly, her face was wrinkled and even more so when she smiled up at me, her blonde hair was short and thick, it went just past her chin then curved in. She looked like a nice person but I had a feeling she had a PHD. That couldn't be good. I'm clearly not sick physically, so that only left one thing.
"Hi...um." I raised my eyebrows, expecting to hear 'Dr. something' from this lady. She smiled and stood up, reaching a hand out to me.
"Hello Mike, I'm Caroline. Nice to meet you. I'm a friend of Myla's, she's told me all about you." A friend of Myla's. I can't really see this 40 year old woman dancing in night clubs with my 21 year old sister, it's getting more and more obvious.
"You're a doctor aren't you?" I asked, my voice cold. Myla's gave me a glare and I knew I'd embarrassed her. Caroline looked a little flustered and she let out an awkward laugh and sat down again. She fidgeted with her notebook and cutlery, making sure they were all parallel with the table, then looked up at me with sad eyes.
"Mike, Myla told me that you haven't left your room in five days, and that you might be having some social issues. I was thinking we could have a...."
"Well you thought wrong! I'm not hungry anymore sis, I'm going to bed I don't feel too good." I spat out, glaring at the doctor and then stormed up the stairs. I barged into my room and slammed the door shut, letting out an angry cry and kicking the first thing that came in connection with my foot, I didn't care what it was. I slid down my door and sat, leaning against it as the tears dripped down my face.
One tear floated it's way down my face and hit off my bottom lip. I let out a shaky sigh and licked my lips, taking in the salty taste off the tear. Why is pain all I taste? I try to eat but everything just tastes so empty, just like sand in my mouth. But the taste of blood and tears are clear to me. Strong tastes that drive my senses completely crazy. I gave up holding in my tears and let out loud sobs, I ran my hands through my hair then screamed and tugged at it.
"Mike, please let me in, please..." My sobs drowned out my sister's begging and I crawled onto my knees, facing the door. I lay my palms flat out on the door and leaned over, my head dropping between my arms, staring at my knees. I know I'm sweating and a mixture of tears and sweat drop to the floor below me. My sobs grow louder and my breathing gets heavy. It's hard to breathe through all the sobbing and I clench one of my hands into a fist and slam it against my door. I can hear Myla crying to me on the other side but I can't concentrate on what she's saying. I listen to my breathes, they're very loud and deep, shaky and labored. My lungs are starting to hurt and my ribcage begins to strain under the pressure of me trying to stretch my lungs. I need more oxygen I feel like I'm dying as I lean my whole body weight against my door. My whole body breaks out into a heavier sweat and my head starts to spin, all I can hear is my breathing and the sobs that are making it so difficult.
Ignoring the pain I take the deepest breath possible at this moment and feeling the fire in my lungs I manage to scream. I scream loudly and then fall, making a loud thud on the floor. I keep breathing deep and manage to cry out.
"What's happening to me?!"
****************
I heard a loud noise and a rush of wind before something hit me hard on the head. I realized the door had been opened as I lay here on the floor, struggling to breathe.
"Oh Mikey, what do I do?" My sister's voice sounded tearful, terrified and far away. She started shouting downstairs for help and I gripped my knees, curling up, digging my nails into the skin. My lungs felt like blocks of ice boxing in a raging fire and the pain was unbearable. I had squeezed my eyes tight shut but I could still feel the room spinning. I could hear screaming and I eventually realized that it was me who was doing the screaming. My throat was scratchy, my head was spinning, my lungs were about to explode, my nails were cutting through my skin my eyes were stinging, my emotions were raw and my body was giving up. I let myself breathe, stopped screaming and loosened my grip on my knees. This was all too much for me and I forced my body to shut down.
*********
A brush of cold air hit my face and I winced. I tried to groan but my raw throat wouldn't let me. My eyes felt like vinegar had just been poured into them and had been left for infection. I tried to open them but it hurt too much and I let out a cry, this time my throat gave way for it but still screamed it's pain.
My head was pounding and my mind was too tired to bother trying to remember what happened.
All of a sudden something wet and cold hit my forehead and I screamed loudly. Oh my lungs felt that. The wet cold thing pressed harder on my forehead and I turned quickly onto my side and before my mind could process the fall, I was lying face first on the floor. My nose had gotten a good hit off the floor and my lungs and throat were burning and when I felt comforting arms wrap around me I was grateful for something that finally wasn't painful. I let out a contented sigh and then someone was whispering in my ear.
"Mikey, you alright? Can you stand up?" Another contented sigh escaped my lips as I recognized the voice that belonged to my next door neighbor, Anastacia.
Anastacia and me were best friends up until we were 12. After that, Anastacia went to boarding school and we drifted apart. During school she was away and during summer she always went to her aunts place in Ireland.
Anastacia's arms wrapped around my waist and she tugged at me to stand up. I tried my best to co-operate but it was difficult.
I was so exhausted and it was affecting my whole body. My eyes felt like mini-deserts were placed in them, with sand shifting everywhere and camels trekking across the gritty stuff, pressing the sand down deeper into my already damaged eyes. My limbs were gone limp and my legs were desperate to crumble into a helpless heap on the floor. My muscles were so stiff that you’d swear I'd been up all night running the length of the state.
But worst of all were my emotions. But the feeling of having someone hold me was amazing. It was like a quenched man stranded for weeks had been given a drink of water. Anastacia turned me around so I was facing her, although I couldn't see her with my eyes shut.
"Mike, I'm going to put you lying on your bed alright?" I slowly nodded then it came to me that I was leaning against her, unable to stand by myself. Since when did I become so dependant?
Anastacia's hands gripped my shoulders and mine clung onto her arms. She made me sit on the bed then lay me down flat. I didn't let go of her arms and I tugged her towards me, I heard her laugh kind of nervously and then she sat next to me, my arms encircled her waist and I pulled her down so she lay next to me. I rested my head on her shoulder and she sighed and put an arm around me.
I felt the tears burning at the back of my eyes when she sighed. Here I was, in the arm's of someone, that's all I ever wanted. To be excepted by someone. But it wasn't real, she didn't care. My tears began to soak the skin on her neck as I silently cried.
My whole body was screaming out to be loved. Just a hug every now and then, a kiss or words that meant something of love.
But my mind knew better.
I knew that by now, it was too late to love me.
*********************
"Morning kiddo." I woke and was greeted with a delicate voice. I felt Anastacia's soft hand on my forehead and she placed a gentle kissed where her hand had just brushed. She had stayed with me... She does care.
Hands wrapped around me and I felt....loved. It was strange but it was soothing and for a few seconds I felt like I was in almost some sort of euphoric dream land where my pillows and blanket were so light that they were nothing but a warm sense covering me, wrapping me up in it's comfort. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but smile. My eyes felt new and refreshed, my muscles relaxed, my throat felt rough still, but nothing that a little water wouldn't cure. And best of all - I felt like a weight was lifted.
I had been screaming shouting cutting crying and letting out so much anger and hate for myself and the cruel world that surrounded me, that I felt as though it had been an amazing relief. The feelings were going I could tell.
The problems still remained. But the past few days and that final breakdown, tore me into little pieces. And now they're laid out in front of my mind, and I just have to slowly put them back together. I can think clearly now.
My mind is free! I'm freeing myself slowly from the depression I'd put myself in.
"Hey Anastacia." My voice came out tired, rough but happy. She smiled more, sensing the happiness in my voice.
"Here, have some water Mikey." I sat up and she handed me a glass of cold water, which I swallowed gratefully. She sat next to me on the bed hugging her knee's and with a huge encouraging, contagious smile on her face.
"Me and your sister have been worried about you, been constantly by your side the past 2 days! You wouldn't wake up you were dead to the world.� She laughed nervously at the word 'dead' considering I could've killed myself, then continued when I didn't say anything. "I like what you did to your walls, the pictures are really pretty."
"Like you." I said blankly, but my eyes told her I meant it. She blushed and laughed a little.
"What have you been up to?" I asked her with a curious look, I wanted her to know I was interested in her life. I was I cared so much about her. I've missed her so much. And she looked after me. I've been emptied of my feelings and filled up with one giving act from this girl. She started telling me about her days, and I listened intensely. She told me about her boyfriends her friends her school her family, everything in her life. For 2 hours we just talked and laughed and the tension was gone and I knew that both of us were back-we were the same old Mike and Anastacia that were before.
"My last boyfriend - Darren, oh he was a sweet-talking little bastard!" She laughed, a fake laugh and I smiled and put my hand over hers.
"He hurt you?" I asked and she nodded.
"Yes." She looked at me with sad eyes, and I saw in them that she made the decision to trust me with her story. "He, told me he loved me, and then I found out he was cheating on me with my best friend, he denied it and convinced me, we carried on as normal, I didn't say anything to my best friend - I guess I was sub-consciously afraid of the truth. But, it came out eventually." I saw her eyes fill up and she hung her head.
"Are you ok Anastacia?" I asked, giving her hand a squeeze.
"He broke my heart Mikey." She burst out into tears and slung onto my chest, I wrapped my arms around her allowed every bit of love and care for her to run through my veins to the tips of my nerves and out of my body and into hers in one hug.
I rubbed my hands up and down her back and whispered to her soothingly and for the first time in years I felt like I had a purpose.
10 minutes later, she raised her head and looked at me with watery eyes.
"Thank you Mikey." She whispered and gave me a weak smile. She looked tired, I lay her down on my bed and I stayed sitting, I reached over, and she watched my hand with her beautiful green eyes. I rested two of my fingers on her eyes, one on each, and closed them gently. She didn't protest and within minutes she’s was breathing into her peaceful sleep. I watched her for a little while, then lay down and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close to me, my face resting in front of hers. I synchronized our breathing and soon was in my own deep slumber.
********
A hand brushed my hair back waking me suddenly. My eyes shot open and my sisters face was hovering over mine, smiling slightly.
"You two are cute together." She whispered and then left. I pulled Anastacia closer to me and watched her wake slowly. She kept her eyes closed and stretched and yawned, then finally opened her beautiful eyes and made contact with my eyes.
"Morning." She whispered and sat up, looking at her watch.
"Oh god I have to see my friends in an hour! I better go!" She turned to me and gave me a quick hug. "I'll come over later ok?" She stood up and turned to leave but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Anastacia." I hesitated and just stared at her beauty for a while. "I love you."
The silence that followed was the most awkward one I've ever experienced. It lasted only 2 seconds but felt as long as 2 years.
"Mikey, Oh god, how do I say this, you're my friend, we have a great history, but...that's all, Mikey, I don't love you. I'm sorry. You're a great memory to me, and we'll talk on the phone when I'm away....but, even being your friend is hard Mikey. I. I can't love you." With that, she gave me a sad smile and left my room, my sanctuary.
She doesn't love me...
She doesn't care...it was pity.
I felt a sharp pain in my chest and my lungs felt suffocated, my breathing became labored and before long, I could taste copper....it was blood. I became terrified that blood was coming up my throat and soon I began to choke on it, the pain in my chest felt like a ripping muscle, and I knew exactly what muscle it was. My heart.
I collapsed on the ground, clutching the covers of my bed in my fists. And I knew what was happening.
I lay down and soon my grip loosened on my bed sheets. My breathing slowed to a stop and the pain became a numb throb. I blocked out all my painful memories, and fixated my mind on a picture of me and Anastacia when we were 10, best friends, with a happy childhood.
I watched this scene like a movie in my head as I lay on my floor, blood pouring from my mouth.
I lay there, dying of a broken heart, taking a beautiful memory with me.
