Walk Away (maybe), chapter 3
That night Joel was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, crying. "This is too much," he thought. "There has to be some way out of this."
He looked over at the bedside table and noticed a pocketknife. It was his friend, Tony's. He must have forgotten it when he was over a few weeks ago. Before Benji died. And if it was Tony's that meant it was sharp. Really sharp. Tony sharpened knifes. It kept him entertained.
Joel stared at the knife for a minute thinking.
"No. No way," He said, shaking his head. "I wont. I cant. I can't take my life. I wont make my friends and family go threw that again. Especially only a week after Benji did."
He looked at the knife again. He couldn't take his eyes off it. Thinking. Thinking that that knife could be his way out. His way away from everything. The pain of loosing his brother and one of his best friends. The guilty feelings. The feeling of loss. The sadness. The depression. The anger. What if he lost someone else too? Would he be able to handle it? To go threw everything, again. If he just ended it he wouldn't have to worry about that. But could he do that to the people he cared about? Or would it even matter? He wouldn't be around to see their pain. So he couldn't feel guilty about it. So what would it matter? Right?
All this was racing through his head. He had to do something.
He picked up the knife and opened it, holding it to his wrist. He held it for a few seconds, thinking about it. He wouldn't kill, just cut. But did he really want to. Did he want to go through this again? What if he couldn't stop this time? He didn't care, he had to. He stared down at the razor-sharp blade pressed against his wrist and closed his eyes tight. Memories started racing through his mind. He could see them. And hear them. Benji, Dani, his brother and sister, his family, his friends, his band, his dog. He saw them all as he squeezed his eyes tighter shut and quickly dragged the knife across his wrist.
His eyes shot open, as he dropped the knife on the ground at his feet, and jumped up yelling out in pain, grabbing his bleeding wrist with his other hand and squeezing tightly.
Joel fell to his knees and rolled over onto his side on the floor pulling his knees up to his chest and biting down on the knee of his jeans. He was trying not to cry as he held is bleeding wrist, blood seeping through his fingers onto the floor, staining the carpet.
He fell asleep like that, moaning in pain. And woke up the next morning to the sound of the doorbell ringing and then the door opening up.
"Urgh," he groaned and looked down at his hand and wrist for a second. "Shit!" he said jumping up and ran into the bathroom. He started washing his blood-covered hand and his bloody deep-cut wrist.
Just as he pulled on a hoodie so no one would see his wrist Billy came walking in.
"what was the point to ringing the doorbell if you just walk in anyways?" Joel asked.
"The doorbell is just a warning so your not surprised to see me standing in your doorway."
"Oh, right. Ok," he said quietly. "Wait, how'd you even get in, the door was locked."
"Spare key," he answered simply.
"...what spare key?"
"The one outside. Duh."
"Uh..Yea. Whatever. So what's up?"
Billy looked up. "The ceiling." He walked over and looked out the window. "The sky, clouds, a airplane, a ducky, Uranus."
They both started laughing and Joel suddenly gasped in pain from his shirt sleeve rubbing against his cut.
"Hey. You ok?" Billy asked looking over at him.
"Yea. Yea I'm fine," Joel said with a look of pain that he couldn't hide.
Billy looked down and noticed a crimson stain on the carpet by the bed. "Uh, Joel? What's that?" he asked pointing at the stain.
"Uh, um..Its..Uh, it-its um," he stuttered, trying to think of something.
Billy thought for a second figuring it out. And then he got it. "Look, Joel, I know this whole thing with Benji and Dani has been hard on you. But-."
"-Billy," Joel cut him off. "I just...I don't wanna talk about it."
"Joel. I just-"
"just. Go."
"but"
"Please. Billy. I just. Want to be alone."
Billy started walking out the door but stopped and looked back. " Just. Just don't get too down ok? I don't want anything to happen to you Joel. Benji may not have been my brother but he sure as hell acted like it. I don't want to loose you too. Or anyone else."
"Billy-"
"Just remember Joel, you're not the only one this effected. You're not the only one this hurt. Just don't think you're the only one who misses Benji. You're not the only one who cared about him, and your not the only one who really needs him." And with that Billy turned and walked out.
Joel stood staring at his empty bedroom doorway until he heard the front door close.
"He's gone," Joel said out loud. "Everyone's gone. It's just me, in an empty room, in an empty house. Heh. Empty. Like me. Like my big fuckin empty heart!" he yelled.
"Urah!" he yelled throwing the first thing he could reach towards the wall. "Why?!" he yelled as loud as he could. Over and over. Throwing everything, anything he could get his hands on. Trashing the room. "Why'd you leave me Benji?!?! Why?! You said you'd always be there for me!" he got quieter "But your not. You're gone. You fuckin lied to me!" he grabbed for something and threw it falling over as he did.
When he looked up he saw the knife again. He starred at it. Like he was hypnotized by it. After a minute he snapped out of it. "No. No." he said shaking his head. He starred at it a little longer. "Yes," he whispered and grabbed the knife.
The next morning he woke up and looked around his room, trashed. Most everything in was destroyed. Now he was going to have to spend the day cleaning it up. "Shit."
He got up and walked into the bathroom and picked up the knife which he had left sitting on the sink. He looked up from the knife into the mirror and he couldn't believe what he saw. Starring back at him he didn't see his reflection. He saw Benji. Joel closed his eyes tight and shook his head then looked back at the mirror. He was relived he didn't see Benji again, but instead he saw himself, at age 16! In the mirror he had a razor blade in his hand and his arm was bleeding. Then he saw a 16-year-old Benji standing behind him in the mirror. Joel turned to look and there was no one there. It was still just him in the bathroom in his house. He turned back to the mirror and it was still him and his brother at age 16.
"Joel? What are you doing?" the mirror Benji asked.
Joel couldn't believe what was happening. "I must be goin crazy. Am I hallucinating?" he wondered. It was like a weird flashback. Back to his first cut. It was a week after their dad walked out. Joel had always been close to his dad. And they were all finally starting to accept that he wasn't coming back. But Joel wouldn't just give up. He wanted his dad back. And he would do anything he could to get him back. He had tried everything. He called his father and left him at least 15 messages on his phone, begging him to come home. He tried to track his dad down to go see him, but couldn't find him. Nothing was working so Joel decided to try one last thing. He started cutting. He thought that, maybe, if he hurt himself his dad would come back to make sure he was ok, and if he was hurting himself, maybe his dad would stay. But Benji had walked in on Joel just after he cut himself.
"Joel? What are you doing?" he had asked. And Joel couldn't lie to his big brother. Him and Benji were best friends and they could never lie to each other. So Joel had to explain everything. Though hearing himself say it, it sounded kind of stupid. But he had to try it. "Joel. He's not coming back," Benji had told him after he explained.
"He's never coming back. He doesn't care about us. About any of us. He never did. He left. And he's not gonna come back to make sure we're ok."
Joel wouldn't believe it. He refused to believe. "No. That's a fuckin lie Benji. Dad did care. He loved us. We were kids and he loved us. He loved all of us. He loved me. He cared about me. And he will come back. 'Cause he cares about me and he wants to know that I'm ok," Joel yelled.
It took Joel three years and hundreds of cuts to finally accept that his dad wasn't coming home. And when he did finally accept it, he cut himself again, for ever being such an idiot and ever trying and ever believing that his dad did care about him.
Joel looked down at his knife then back into the mirror, but this time all he saw was himself starring back.
"I guess Benji was right, he never really cared," Joel said quietly as he dropped the knife. He wouldn't cut, not this time. But by the end of the day, me knew, the knife would be used again. And he would have another cut on his arm.
*A week later*
Joel went to the gave yard to visit Benji, he walked over to his brother's grave and knelt down. "Hey Benji. I really miss you. Everyone does. I wish you hadn't done this. It's really tearing me apart. Yea, I know you didn't mean for this to hurt me so much, you just, didn't think about your little brother when you pulled the trigger. I'm not mad at you though. I just miss you. Things just aren't the same without you here. Heh, you were always the one I went to when I had a problem, when I was sad or when I needed a shoulder to cry on or just needed to talk. I mean, you were my best friend. You were the one I went to for anything. And now my biggest problem ever and you cant help me, 'cause my biggest problem ever is that you left me. I need you Benj. I really wish I could see you again. And, uh, I've been thinking. I need to see you again, Benji. And the only way I can see you again, is to be just like my big brother and take my own life. I don't want to do that to everyone, but, I need you. More then anything." Joel stopped and broke down crying. He looked up at Benji's grave "I cant live without you. Benj you were always there for me. You said you'd never leave me. You-you lied.
Joel couldn't take it anymore. He started bawling and ran home.
As soon as he got home he ran upstairs and grabbed his knife again. He pulled off his shirt and put the knife against his upper arm. Pressing down hard he slowly dragged it across. This had become his release. Every time he felt sad, or mad, or thought about Benji or anything, he cut himself. And for some reason, it felt good. For some reason, it felt right.
He looked into the mirror at his body. Both his arms, his stomach, his chest, and his sides, were covered in cuts.
He looked over at the bedside table and noticed a pocketknife. It was his friend, Tony's. He must have forgotten it when he was over a few weeks ago. Before Benji died. And if it was Tony's that meant it was sharp. Really sharp. Tony sharpened knifes. It kept him entertained.
Joel stared at the knife for a minute thinking.
"No. No way," He said, shaking his head. "I wont. I cant. I can't take my life. I wont make my friends and family go threw that again. Especially only a week after Benji did."
He looked at the knife again. He couldn't take his eyes off it. Thinking. Thinking that that knife could be his way out. His way away from everything. The pain of loosing his brother and one of his best friends. The guilty feelings. The feeling of loss. The sadness. The depression. The anger. What if he lost someone else too? Would he be able to handle it? To go threw everything, again. If he just ended it he wouldn't have to worry about that. But could he do that to the people he cared about? Or would it even matter? He wouldn't be around to see their pain. So he couldn't feel guilty about it. So what would it matter? Right?
All this was racing through his head. He had to do something.
He picked up the knife and opened it, holding it to his wrist. He held it for a few seconds, thinking about it. He wouldn't kill, just cut. But did he really want to. Did he want to go through this again? What if he couldn't stop this time? He didn't care, he had to. He stared down at the razor-sharp blade pressed against his wrist and closed his eyes tight. Memories started racing through his mind. He could see them. And hear them. Benji, Dani, his brother and sister, his family, his friends, his band, his dog. He saw them all as he squeezed his eyes tighter shut and quickly dragged the knife across his wrist.
His eyes shot open, as he dropped the knife on the ground at his feet, and jumped up yelling out in pain, grabbing his bleeding wrist with his other hand and squeezing tightly.
Joel fell to his knees and rolled over onto his side on the floor pulling his knees up to his chest and biting down on the knee of his jeans. He was trying not to cry as he held is bleeding wrist, blood seeping through his fingers onto the floor, staining the carpet.
He fell asleep like that, moaning in pain. And woke up the next morning to the sound of the doorbell ringing and then the door opening up.
"Urgh," he groaned and looked down at his hand and wrist for a second. "Shit!" he said jumping up and ran into the bathroom. He started washing his blood-covered hand and his bloody deep-cut wrist.
Just as he pulled on a hoodie so no one would see his wrist Billy came walking in.
"what was the point to ringing the doorbell if you just walk in anyways?" Joel asked.
"The doorbell is just a warning so your not surprised to see me standing in your doorway."
"Oh, right. Ok," he said quietly. "Wait, how'd you even get in, the door was locked."
"Spare key," he answered simply.
"...what spare key?"
"The one outside. Duh."
"Uh..Yea. Whatever. So what's up?"
Billy looked up. "The ceiling." He walked over and looked out the window. "The sky, clouds, a airplane, a ducky, Uranus."
They both started laughing and Joel suddenly gasped in pain from his shirt sleeve rubbing against his cut.
"Hey. You ok?" Billy asked looking over at him.
"Yea. Yea I'm fine," Joel said with a look of pain that he couldn't hide.
Billy looked down and noticed a crimson stain on the carpet by the bed. "Uh, Joel? What's that?" he asked pointing at the stain.
"Uh, um..Its..Uh, it-its um," he stuttered, trying to think of something.
Billy thought for a second figuring it out. And then he got it. "Look, Joel, I know this whole thing with Benji and Dani has been hard on you. But-."
"-Billy," Joel cut him off. "I just...I don't wanna talk about it."
"Joel. I just-"
"just. Go."
"but"
"Please. Billy. I just. Want to be alone."
Billy started walking out the door but stopped and looked back. " Just. Just don't get too down ok? I don't want anything to happen to you Joel. Benji may not have been my brother but he sure as hell acted like it. I don't want to loose you too. Or anyone else."
"Billy-"
"Just remember Joel, you're not the only one this effected. You're not the only one this hurt. Just don't think you're the only one who misses Benji. You're not the only one who cared about him, and your not the only one who really needs him." And with that Billy turned and walked out.
Joel stood staring at his empty bedroom doorway until he heard the front door close.
"He's gone," Joel said out loud. "Everyone's gone. It's just me, in an empty room, in an empty house. Heh. Empty. Like me. Like my big fuckin empty heart!" he yelled.
"Urah!" he yelled throwing the first thing he could reach towards the wall. "Why?!" he yelled as loud as he could. Over and over. Throwing everything, anything he could get his hands on. Trashing the room. "Why'd you leave me Benji?!?! Why?! You said you'd always be there for me!" he got quieter "But your not. You're gone. You fuckin lied to me!" he grabbed for something and threw it falling over as he did.
When he looked up he saw the knife again. He starred at it. Like he was hypnotized by it. After a minute he snapped out of it. "No. No." he said shaking his head. He starred at it a little longer. "Yes," he whispered and grabbed the knife.
The next morning he woke up and looked around his room, trashed. Most everything in was destroyed. Now he was going to have to spend the day cleaning it up. "Shit."
He got up and walked into the bathroom and picked up the knife which he had left sitting on the sink. He looked up from the knife into the mirror and he couldn't believe what he saw. Starring back at him he didn't see his reflection. He saw Benji. Joel closed his eyes tight and shook his head then looked back at the mirror. He was relived he didn't see Benji again, but instead he saw himself, at age 16! In the mirror he had a razor blade in his hand and his arm was bleeding. Then he saw a 16-year-old Benji standing behind him in the mirror. Joel turned to look and there was no one there. It was still just him in the bathroom in his house. He turned back to the mirror and it was still him and his brother at age 16.
"Joel? What are you doing?" the mirror Benji asked.
Joel couldn't believe what was happening. "I must be goin crazy. Am I hallucinating?" he wondered. It was like a weird flashback. Back to his first cut. It was a week after their dad walked out. Joel had always been close to his dad. And they were all finally starting to accept that he wasn't coming back. But Joel wouldn't just give up. He wanted his dad back. And he would do anything he could to get him back. He had tried everything. He called his father and left him at least 15 messages on his phone, begging him to come home. He tried to track his dad down to go see him, but couldn't find him. Nothing was working so Joel decided to try one last thing. He started cutting. He thought that, maybe, if he hurt himself his dad would come back to make sure he was ok, and if he was hurting himself, maybe his dad would stay. But Benji had walked in on Joel just after he cut himself.
"Joel? What are you doing?" he had asked. And Joel couldn't lie to his big brother. Him and Benji were best friends and they could never lie to each other. So Joel had to explain everything. Though hearing himself say it, it sounded kind of stupid. But he had to try it. "Joel. He's not coming back," Benji had told him after he explained.
"He's never coming back. He doesn't care about us. About any of us. He never did. He left. And he's not gonna come back to make sure we're ok."
Joel wouldn't believe it. He refused to believe. "No. That's a fuckin lie Benji. Dad did care. He loved us. We were kids and he loved us. He loved all of us. He loved me. He cared about me. And he will come back. 'Cause he cares about me and he wants to know that I'm ok," Joel yelled.
It took Joel three years and hundreds of cuts to finally accept that his dad wasn't coming home. And when he did finally accept it, he cut himself again, for ever being such an idiot and ever trying and ever believing that his dad did care about him.
Joel looked down at his knife then back into the mirror, but this time all he saw was himself starring back.
"I guess Benji was right, he never really cared," Joel said quietly as he dropped the knife. He wouldn't cut, not this time. But by the end of the day, me knew, the knife would be used again. And he would have another cut on his arm.
*A week later*
Joel went to the gave yard to visit Benji, he walked over to his brother's grave and knelt down. "Hey Benji. I really miss you. Everyone does. I wish you hadn't done this. It's really tearing me apart. Yea, I know you didn't mean for this to hurt me so much, you just, didn't think about your little brother when you pulled the trigger. I'm not mad at you though. I just miss you. Things just aren't the same without you here. Heh, you were always the one I went to when I had a problem, when I was sad or when I needed a shoulder to cry on or just needed to talk. I mean, you were my best friend. You were the one I went to for anything. And now my biggest problem ever and you cant help me, 'cause my biggest problem ever is that you left me. I need you Benj. I really wish I could see you again. And, uh, I've been thinking. I need to see you again, Benji. And the only way I can see you again, is to be just like my big brother and take my own life. I don't want to do that to everyone, but, I need you. More then anything." Joel stopped and broke down crying. He looked up at Benji's grave "I cant live without you. Benj you were always there for me. You said you'd never leave me. You-you lied.
Joel couldn't take it anymore. He started bawling and ran home.
As soon as he got home he ran upstairs and grabbed his knife again. He pulled off his shirt and put the knife against his upper arm. Pressing down hard he slowly dragged it across. This had become his release. Every time he felt sad, or mad, or thought about Benji or anything, he cut himself. And for some reason, it felt good. For some reason, it felt right.
He looked into the mirror at his body. Both his arms, his stomach, his chest, and his sides, were covered in cuts.
