The Origin Of Saint Jimmy, chapter 2
Jimmy stood in front of the bathroom, waiting for the right moment to slip in without being noticed. He finally got his chance and slipped in silently. The bathroom was empty, just as he had figured.
"Perfect." He slipped under the yellow 'Caution' tape, and ignored the 'Wet Paint' sign. The bathroom he had destroyed that day not all that long ago, had been completely restored. His grin widened, looking around at the new mirrors and painted walls. There were no signs, whatsoever, that it had been messed up in the first place. Jimmy ran his fingers around the sinks edge, stopping when he got to the last one. A razor blade, forgotten by the people who had installed the sinks, sat there. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand.
"This wasn't what I had in mind," He said, setting it back and pulling a thick red permanent marker out of his pocket. He set his book bag against one of the toilet stalls and turned to face the wall again, popping off the markers lid. With a steady hand he lifted the marker to the newly painted wall and wrote SAINT JIMMY. He stood back and looked up at his work for moment, taking it all in. He walked to the sink, picking up the razor bade and looked back up at the wall. 'Do I really want to do this?' he thought, his mind wandered, going over all the bad things that had happened so recently. He had screwed up again, and this time, lied to his best friend. Tears stung his eyes as he remembered the night before...
-Flash Back-
Crash. A beer bottle was thrown across the room and smashed into the wall just above Jimmy's head.
"Dad! Stop!" He cried, tears streaming down his face, his eyeliner smeared all over his face. The man who had thrown the bottle, Jimmy's dad, walked closer to Jimmy.
"Come here you little punk!" He yelled, his words slurring together. Jimmy crouched down into the corner, crying his eyes out. His dad walked closer and ran his hand through Jimmy's hair, gripping it and pulling up hard. Jimmy let out a long, loud, painful scream.
"STOP!" Jimmy screamed. His dad laughed, pulling by his hair to look into his eyes.
"I'm just getting started." Jimmy gagged. The stench of alcohol was on his fathers breath.
"Please stop." Jimmy cried. His dad grinned, a crooked grin that showed his rotting yellow teeth. He brought a pistol to Jimmy's head. Jimmy's eyes opened wide. He had been beaten, and threatened by his dad before, but he had never had his father threaten him with a gun.
"Dad, please don't." Jimmy pleaded.
"Why shouldn't I pull the trigger?" His dad asked, glaring at him through glazed over eyes.
"Who would care that you died?" Jimmy hung his head.
"Nobody likes you, boy." Tears flowed freely down Jimmy's face. He sniffled and looked his father in the eyes. Jimmy's eye burned bright red with rage.
"No dad," He said, "Nobody likes YOU!" He kicked his father in the stomach, causing him to fall backwards, the gun fell on the floor, spinning in Jimmy's direction. Jimmy stopped it with his foot and bent down, picking it up. He aimed it at his dad's heart. The father laughed.
"You really gonna kill me boy? You don't have the guts to-" But he was silenced by Jimmy.
"That's what you think." He sneered and pulled the trigger. His father had had a run in with the black market, and had bought himself a silencer. So instead of a loud bang, a short soft one emitted from the gun. The bullet buried itself into his dad's heart, killing him instantly. Jimmy spit on him and dropped the gun, turning to leave the house. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was his mother, who had watched the whole thing. Her eyes were glazed over, totally high on who knows what. Jimmy glared at her as he passed by, slamming the door as he left.
-End Of Flashback-
Now Jimmy snapped back into reality, still holding the blade firmly between his fingers. He gasped in pain as he slid the blade into the palm of his hand, drawing a thick line of blood. He bit his lip and cut the whole way across, not making another sound. He looked back up at the wall, placing his bloodied hand right next to the graffiti. He held it there, wincing in pain, for a full minuet before taking it back. He stepped back and looked up at it.
"Why does everything have to happen to me?" He whispered. He kicked the wall. "WHY THE F*** DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?!?!" He started crying again.
Jimmy didn't cry very often, but the stress, the pain, it was all too much for him. He sat down against the wall and cried. There was a knock on the door.
"Jimmy?" Holiday's muffled voice came through the door. "C'mon. We gotta go." Jimmy wiped his eyes and picked up his stuff, not daring to look back at what he had wrote.
Maybe they'd come looking for him, but he didn't care. He was expelled anyways. What else could they do? Throw him in jail? Jimmy smirked. "Yeah right." He pushed open the door, leaving a bloody hand print there as well. Holiday was pacing outside the door.
"What took you so long?" She asked, grinning.
"Let's go." Jimmy growled. Holiday raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
Since Holiday lived close enough to the school, she walked everyday. She led him out the door and down the sidewalk. It was silent for most of the way there, until Holiday dared to look over at Jimmy. She saw he was messing with the cut on his hand.
"Oh my god!" She cried. "Are you ok?!" She grabbed his hand to look at it. He gasped in pain and pulled his hand back.
"I'm fine!" He growled, "Just don't do that!" Holiday still looked worried. "It's fine." Jimmy insisted. Holiday gave him a look that meant she wasn't so sure.
"Well, what happened?" She asked.
"I cut myself." Jimmy replied, like it wasn't a big deal.
"You WHAT?!" She cried. A few others that were walking on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, turned their heads to find out what was going on.
"I cut myself," Jimmy said again, "And keep your voice down. There's no need to make a big scene about this."
"NO NEED TO MAKE A SCENE?!?!" Holiday screamed. The onlookers now stopped
and watched the two. "JIMMY YOU CAN'T JUST CUT YOURSELF! YOU'LL HURT YOURSELF! PERMANENTLY!!!!" If Jimmy were a dog, his tail would be between his legs by now.
"Ok Holiday!" He cried. "Ok, I wont do it again." Holiday fell silent, but Jimmy could tell she wasn't convinced. He let the silence go on for a couple minutes before he sighed. "I'm sorry." Holiday looked back at him.
"For what?" She asked.
"For, everything," Jimmy said, slowly meeting Holiday's eyes. "For barging into your life, for making you spazz out on me," She grinned at that one. "And-"
"It's okay Jimmy." Holiday said. " You don't have to be sorry for anything. It's okay. Really." Jimmy smiled.
"Thanks." And the two walked towards Holiday's house.
"Perfect." He slipped under the yellow 'Caution' tape, and ignored the 'Wet Paint' sign. The bathroom he had destroyed that day not all that long ago, had been completely restored. His grin widened, looking around at the new mirrors and painted walls. There were no signs, whatsoever, that it had been messed up in the first place. Jimmy ran his fingers around the sinks edge, stopping when he got to the last one. A razor blade, forgotten by the people who had installed the sinks, sat there. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand.
"This wasn't what I had in mind," He said, setting it back and pulling a thick red permanent marker out of his pocket. He set his book bag against one of the toilet stalls and turned to face the wall again, popping off the markers lid. With a steady hand he lifted the marker to the newly painted wall and wrote SAINT JIMMY. He stood back and looked up at his work for moment, taking it all in. He walked to the sink, picking up the razor bade and looked back up at the wall. 'Do I really want to do this?' he thought, his mind wandered, going over all the bad things that had happened so recently. He had screwed up again, and this time, lied to his best friend. Tears stung his eyes as he remembered the night before...
-Flash Back-
Crash. A beer bottle was thrown across the room and smashed into the wall just above Jimmy's head.
"Dad! Stop!" He cried, tears streaming down his face, his eyeliner smeared all over his face. The man who had thrown the bottle, Jimmy's dad, walked closer to Jimmy.
"Come here you little punk!" He yelled, his words slurring together. Jimmy crouched down into the corner, crying his eyes out. His dad walked closer and ran his hand through Jimmy's hair, gripping it and pulling up hard. Jimmy let out a long, loud, painful scream.
"STOP!" Jimmy screamed. His dad laughed, pulling by his hair to look into his eyes.
"I'm just getting started." Jimmy gagged. The stench of alcohol was on his fathers breath.
"Please stop." Jimmy cried. His dad grinned, a crooked grin that showed his rotting yellow teeth. He brought a pistol to Jimmy's head. Jimmy's eyes opened wide. He had been beaten, and threatened by his dad before, but he had never had his father threaten him with a gun.
"Dad, please don't." Jimmy pleaded.
"Why shouldn't I pull the trigger?" His dad asked, glaring at him through glazed over eyes.
"Who would care that you died?" Jimmy hung his head.
"Nobody likes you, boy." Tears flowed freely down Jimmy's face. He sniffled and looked his father in the eyes. Jimmy's eye burned bright red with rage.
"No dad," He said, "Nobody likes YOU!" He kicked his father in the stomach, causing him to fall backwards, the gun fell on the floor, spinning in Jimmy's direction. Jimmy stopped it with his foot and bent down, picking it up. He aimed it at his dad's heart. The father laughed.
"You really gonna kill me boy? You don't have the guts to-" But he was silenced by Jimmy.
"That's what you think." He sneered and pulled the trigger. His father had had a run in with the black market, and had bought himself a silencer. So instead of a loud bang, a short soft one emitted from the gun. The bullet buried itself into his dad's heart, killing him instantly. Jimmy spit on him and dropped the gun, turning to leave the house. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was his mother, who had watched the whole thing. Her eyes were glazed over, totally high on who knows what. Jimmy glared at her as he passed by, slamming the door as he left.
-End Of Flashback-
Now Jimmy snapped back into reality, still holding the blade firmly between his fingers. He gasped in pain as he slid the blade into the palm of his hand, drawing a thick line of blood. He bit his lip and cut the whole way across, not making another sound. He looked back up at the wall, placing his bloodied hand right next to the graffiti. He held it there, wincing in pain, for a full minuet before taking it back. He stepped back and looked up at it.
"Why does everything have to happen to me?" He whispered. He kicked the wall. "WHY THE F*** DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?!?!" He started crying again.
Jimmy didn't cry very often, but the stress, the pain, it was all too much for him. He sat down against the wall and cried. There was a knock on the door.
"Jimmy?" Holiday's muffled voice came through the door. "C'mon. We gotta go." Jimmy wiped his eyes and picked up his stuff, not daring to look back at what he had wrote.
Maybe they'd come looking for him, but he didn't care. He was expelled anyways. What else could they do? Throw him in jail? Jimmy smirked. "Yeah right." He pushed open the door, leaving a bloody hand print there as well. Holiday was pacing outside the door.
"What took you so long?" She asked, grinning.
"Let's go." Jimmy growled. Holiday raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
Since Holiday lived close enough to the school, she walked everyday. She led him out the door and down the sidewalk. It was silent for most of the way there, until Holiday dared to look over at Jimmy. She saw he was messing with the cut on his hand.
"Oh my god!" She cried. "Are you ok?!" She grabbed his hand to look at it. He gasped in pain and pulled his hand back.
"I'm fine!" He growled, "Just don't do that!" Holiday still looked worried. "It's fine." Jimmy insisted. Holiday gave him a look that meant she wasn't so sure.
"Well, what happened?" She asked.
"I cut myself." Jimmy replied, like it wasn't a big deal.
"You WHAT?!" She cried. A few others that were walking on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, turned their heads to find out what was going on.
"I cut myself," Jimmy said again, "And keep your voice down. There's no need to make a big scene about this."
"NO NEED TO MAKE A SCENE?!?!" Holiday screamed. The onlookers now stopped
and watched the two. "JIMMY YOU CAN'T JUST CUT YOURSELF! YOU'LL HURT YOURSELF! PERMANENTLY!!!!" If Jimmy were a dog, his tail would be between his legs by now.
"Ok Holiday!" He cried. "Ok, I wont do it again." Holiday fell silent, but Jimmy could tell she wasn't convinced. He let the silence go on for a couple minutes before he sighed. "I'm sorry." Holiday looked back at him.
"For what?" She asked.
"For, everything," Jimmy said, slowly meeting Holiday's eyes. "For barging into your life, for making you spazz out on me," She grinned at that one. "And-"
"It's okay Jimmy." Holiday said. " You don't have to be sorry for anything. It's okay. Really." Jimmy smiled.
"Thanks." And the two walked towards Holiday's house.
