A Taste For Suicidal, chapter 2
"Hey Frank." I yawned as I opened the door.
"Yo." he said.
He stepped inside and made himself at home. I closed the door, warning him to keep it down. I didn't like the idea of my parents catching us sneaking around this early on a Sunday morning. Especially if we woke them.
I sighed and made my way to the kitchen. As I turned off the light I asked Frank if he wanted anything. He said he'd already eaten. A slight tremble in his voice led me to believe that his night hadn't gone so great either.
"So what happened last night, Joey?" he asked me.
I sat down next to him. "The ususal, just fifty times worse." I replied.
"Harsh. Did they bring you into it?" he asked.
"No. But they brought Jakob into it...The poor kid could hear every word they were saying. How was your night?" I said.
"You wouldn't wanna know."
"Aww, come on."
"Let's just say that some dishes, a lamp and a heart were broken."
Just from the briefing his night already sounded worse than mine. I knew it must've killed Frank to hear his parents yell at each other so badly, and I would die too if I heard the words that caused my parents to divorce. Just the thought made me shudder.
"You cold?" he questioned.
"No...I was just thinking." I replied.
"...About what?"
"Sutff."
"Stuff like 'Would anyone miss me if I took my own life' or 'Why can't I just die'?"
I raised my eyebrow. "No. Not at all. Were you?" I asked.
He didn't answer. I looked at him and he still didn't reply. I choked on the next words I had planned to say, instead messing with a loose string that hung from the couch. I knew how it felt to want to kill yourself...Boy did I know.
Before I could stop him, Frank got off the couch and walked briskly into the kitchen. I heard a drawer open and immediately went after him. I grabbed the hand that held a knife, tugging it away from the opposite wrist.
"Let-go-" I orderd, my voice shaking as we struggled.
"No!" he hissed. "I-want-to-die!"
"Put-it down!"
Then we heard a door open. We both froze. Frankito dropped the knife as soon as he heard voices, and I grabbed him by the arm. I dragged him into the bathroom where we caught our breath and listened.
"What the hell? You're the one who cleans house. S'not my fault if you forget to pick a damn knife up!" my father's voice boomed through the house. I winced.
A drawer slammed shut. "Right, beacause all you care about is that stupid new record! That's all that matters to you!" my mom shouted.
"Damn straight, it keeps food on the table!" he shouted back.
"We have plenty of money Billie! Think about the kids, how the hell do you think they feel?" she screamed.
"They feel fine! Like I told you last night, Jakob is too young to understand and Joseph is too old to care, so you don't have to worry about your baby boys!" he yelled.
I wanted to run out there and show him my wrists, show him my legs and scream: "Does this look like I'm fine to you? Does it you asshole!" but I didn't for obvious reasons. Instead I watched them move into the living room.
You have some nerve, Billie." my mom stated in low, warning voice.
He grinned. "I know I do." he hissed. Then she slapped him.
"I swear to God that you'll be the reason this family falls apart!" she cried. "I don't give a damn if you don't love me anymore, but at least show some love for our children!"
"What the fuck are you talking about? I do show love for them!" he shouted.
"Well it's certinly not enough!"
"Sure it is-"
"Billie Joe Armstrong, I am warning you right now. I'm leaving for a little while and unless you straighten up before I return, the kids and I are leaving you for good."
Then the front door slammed shut. I bit my lip. I continued to watch my father, to see what he'd do. He just plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. And that was it...
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I sreamed at the top of my lungs. "Don't you care you stupid bastard?! Don't you care about us at all??"
He turned his head to me. "Fuck off. You have no idea what you're talking about." he spat.
"Oh, so you want me to fuck off? Alright then, it's fine by me!" I shouted.
I grabbed Frank by the wrist and dragged him out of the bathroom. Then I flipped my dad off and ran outside. To tell you the truth, I had no fuckin' clue what I was doing. I didn't even know if it was the right thing. But I did it anyways.
"Yo." he said.
He stepped inside and made himself at home. I closed the door, warning him to keep it down. I didn't like the idea of my parents catching us sneaking around this early on a Sunday morning. Especially if we woke them.
I sighed and made my way to the kitchen. As I turned off the light I asked Frank if he wanted anything. He said he'd already eaten. A slight tremble in his voice led me to believe that his night hadn't gone so great either.
"So what happened last night, Joey?" he asked me.
I sat down next to him. "The ususal, just fifty times worse." I replied.
"Harsh. Did they bring you into it?" he asked.
"No. But they brought Jakob into it...The poor kid could hear every word they were saying. How was your night?" I said.
"You wouldn't wanna know."
"Aww, come on."
"Let's just say that some dishes, a lamp and a heart were broken."
Just from the briefing his night already sounded worse than mine. I knew it must've killed Frank to hear his parents yell at each other so badly, and I would die too if I heard the words that caused my parents to divorce. Just the thought made me shudder.
"You cold?" he questioned.
"No...I was just thinking." I replied.
"...About what?"
"Sutff."
"Stuff like 'Would anyone miss me if I took my own life' or 'Why can't I just die'?"
I raised my eyebrow. "No. Not at all. Were you?" I asked.
He didn't answer. I looked at him and he still didn't reply. I choked on the next words I had planned to say, instead messing with a loose string that hung from the couch. I knew how it felt to want to kill yourself...Boy did I know.
Before I could stop him, Frank got off the couch and walked briskly into the kitchen. I heard a drawer open and immediately went after him. I grabbed the hand that held a knife, tugging it away from the opposite wrist.
"Let-go-" I orderd, my voice shaking as we struggled.
"No!" he hissed. "I-want-to-die!"
"Put-it down!"
Then we heard a door open. We both froze. Frankito dropped the knife as soon as he heard voices, and I grabbed him by the arm. I dragged him into the bathroom where we caught our breath and listened.
"What the hell? You're the one who cleans house. S'not my fault if you forget to pick a damn knife up!" my father's voice boomed through the house. I winced.
A drawer slammed shut. "Right, beacause all you care about is that stupid new record! That's all that matters to you!" my mom shouted.
"Damn straight, it keeps food on the table!" he shouted back.
"We have plenty of money Billie! Think about the kids, how the hell do you think they feel?" she screamed.
"They feel fine! Like I told you last night, Jakob is too young to understand and Joseph is too old to care, so you don't have to worry about your baby boys!" he yelled.
I wanted to run out there and show him my wrists, show him my legs and scream: "Does this look like I'm fine to you? Does it you asshole!" but I didn't for obvious reasons. Instead I watched them move into the living room.
You have some nerve, Billie." my mom stated in low, warning voice.
He grinned. "I know I do." he hissed. Then she slapped him.
"I swear to God that you'll be the reason this family falls apart!" she cried. "I don't give a damn if you don't love me anymore, but at least show some love for our children!"
"What the fuck are you talking about? I do show love for them!" he shouted.
"Well it's certinly not enough!"
"Sure it is-"
"Billie Joe Armstrong, I am warning you right now. I'm leaving for a little while and unless you straighten up before I return, the kids and I are leaving you for good."
Then the front door slammed shut. I bit my lip. I continued to watch my father, to see what he'd do. He just plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. And that was it...
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I sreamed at the top of my lungs. "Don't you care you stupid bastard?! Don't you care about us at all??"
He turned his head to me. "Fuck off. You have no idea what you're talking about." he spat.
"Oh, so you want me to fuck off? Alright then, it's fine by me!" I shouted.
I grabbed Frank by the wrist and dragged him out of the bathroom. Then I flipped my dad off and ran outside. To tell you the truth, I had no fuckin' clue what I was doing. I didn't even know if it was the right thing. But I did it anyways.
