And so it continues.
•••
Seven Days Before
It was a Friday, the worst Friday to ever take place--for Jake, that is. That Friday was the day the ridicule escalated. The audacity and insolence of Jake's schoolmates never failed to hurt him.
But sometimes they weren't always insulting. Sometimes people would hand him notes, saying they were there if he needed to talk or that they understood what he was going through. Those notes always bothered Jake. The only person he wanted to talk to, whom he thought to have empathy for him, was no where to be found.
"Hey, Jake."
Jake looked up to see a boy standing in front of his desk.
"Uh, yeah?"
"I'm Parker. I read your, um, poem," he scratched his head nervously. "It was good."
"Thank you," Jake breathed. Bad, definitely bad. Parker wasn't there to make friends. Or so he thought.
"Jake, if you want to hang out some time, I'm always free."
•••
His father sat on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand, when Jake came home from school. The TV blared with the breaking news.
"...afternoon, the body of seventeen year old Florence Evans was discovered in a ditch behind Gale Elementary School, in Yardley, Pennsylvania. She was presumed to be dead for at least three days...."
Jake glared at the the lady telling him Florence was dead. He didn't believe it. He had been looking for closure, but he had hoped she was still breathing. And she wasn't. For three days.
"Jake, get your scrawny ass up!" His fathers large voice filled Jake's ears, and he gasped. He gasped again and again, holding his hands over his ears, rocking back and forth. He groaned as something inside of him collapsed and shattered into millions of pieces, leaving nothing but debris and leftover shreds of an already broken heart.
•••
Something inside of him died. He stared out the window, never moving to do anything. He never made a sound when his father visited him.
Every now and then, he'd curl up into a ball, and cry.
"It's my fault it's my fault it's my fault it's my fault it's my fucking fault god I hate myself it's my fault it's my fault I wanna die."
He fell asleep to his own voice, dreaming of nothing but his own death.
•••
Tick tock.
Yours Truly,
Quiet Observer.
YOU ARE READING
Can You Feel My Heart?
Roman pour AdolescentsJake never knew he would turn into what he is now. He always thought he would be an inspiration to the next generation. He never knew that his name would be plastered over every single newspaper in Pennsylvania. He was not an inspiration, just anoth...
