Where ☹ Muke

XIX ; torn apart and left here to rot away.

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Dear Michael,

Reading this journal has conflicted me, and it's not exactly going for the better if you ask me. It's making me see things differently, everything's twisted, and I don't see how I never noticed all these little things before.

How had I never noticed the little things that give you a glimpse through somebody else's facade?

Like the way you would always flinch, I've realized that was your fears cornering you, you were scared I would hit you. Mikey we were eight, ten, twelve -- we were children, I was your best friend. But you were scared of me.

You were fucking terrified of everybody -- even me.

I never noticed these things before, but now I do and I can't stop reliving everything and noticing the minor details -- why hadn't I noticed before, you could be alive if I wasn't stupid.

I've noticed things about other people too, like Calum -- lately he's been jittery and if anybody mentions Ashton he curls his fingers and bites his lip. He's hiding something, and it's quite obvious, or maybe you opened up my eyes to little details.

Did you know that Ashton still hasn't been to school since I ticked him off, I think he's hiding out at his house or maybe skipping school because of me.

Mikey that was three months ago, and he's still not back and you're still fucking dead.

Do you know how horrible your funeral was? The whole school basically came on a field trip and sobbed, they didn't deserve to cry, they didn't know you, they didn't even like you.

Not like I did.

They didn't even use exotic colored flowers to represent you, they used basic red roses -- as if you'd have wanted something so plain, I literally cringed when they passed me one because damn I was expecting a pretty fluorescent blue flower, you always told me you liked blue because it reminded you of my eyes.

Fuck.

I'm sorry if you can't read some of this, I don't know when I started crying but the words are slightly jumbled and blurred with tears.

Fuck.

You can't read this, whats the point of writing it?

I love you, to an extent that I'm losing myself.

I don't think I can find myself without you, but you're dead, maybe I should be too.

With love,
Luke. Xx

I curled my fist and slammed it down against the mahogany table in front of me, the pain seethed up my air and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I couldn't have my mother hearing me have another breakdown, it would break her heart, as if it's not already shattered.

"I should be dead, not him." I muttered laying my head against the table and running my fingers through my hair, this whole situation has been eating me alive since it happened.

You would think three months would be long enough for me to get over it and move on with myself, but for some reason I couldn't do it for the life of me. All I do anymore is mope around and verbally abuse any living thing, I spent twenty minutes yesterday cussing out the sun.

I don't want to do anything permeant, like I don't want to self harm or get into any bad addictions, I just want to be dead. But I don't want to die, I just want to live without living my life, to be somebody I'm not so I won't have to handle all of this pain.

With these thoughts in mind in often find myself at the local bridge where I end up sobbing the night away until I'm too tired to cry anymore, then I end up right back home.

I don't even know why I go to the bridge, it's not like I'm going to jump, I guess I just find comfort sitting on the edge with the wind blowing in my hair, the silence makes me feel comfortable with myself, it's like the world stops when I sit there. Maybe I'm exaggerating but it really does make me feel better.

"Luke?"

I ignore the voice hoping they would leave me in my room by myself to do what I do best, of course I'm not lucky and they seem persistent.

"Luke."

"No."

"C'mon dude, we need to do something important today."

Calum, of course it's him. He's constantly trying to be my friend lately and I don't understand it because before you came here he hated me with a burning passion, then again I hated him for being gay and he hated me for being a homophobe.

"Like what?"

"Well you need to shower," he chuckled inhaling deeply and clutching his nose to exaggerate his point, "and we have to meet with somebody today."

"Who?"

"You'll see." He sung grabbing my hand and pulling me to a standing position before walking to my closet and pulling out a random outfit and tossing it to me. "Now bathe yourself dude, you reek."

I smiled sarcastically before turning on my heel and making it to the bathroom and hopping into the shower. Calum was right, I smell like ass -- but I wouldn't admit it to him so I continued to scrub the guilt off my body.

While I was showering I remembered some lyrics I'd caught in Michael's journal, something about being a reject, I don't know but it sounded catchy as I needed up singing softly in the shower.

When I stepped out I felt clean, and smelled like vanilla and apples, wow I'm manly as fuck.

I tossed on some vans, not caring about my hair as I threw a snapback on and smiled at myself in the mirror, I'd say I clean up nicely for somebody who's been living in their room for three months.

"Okay let's go Luke, and trust me you won't regret this." Calum smiled before practically throwing me in the passenger seat.