Gift of a Lifetime

II

He didn't take it lightly. His eyes widened and he pushed me over and before I knew it he was on top of me and pinning me down, a fist raised next to his head and ready to take action. I tried to wiggle free like I had before, but Ryan was stronger. It had crossed my mind that, knowing him, he might've been on steroids, and it didn't surprise me.

For a few seconds he had just stared at me, and unreadable expression on his face (a mixture of surprise, guilt, anger, sadness), and I took the chance to say something.

"What happened to you?" That set something off.

His eyes widened and he switched between both hands to punch me in my face multiple times. Before long, unbearable pain pumping through my entire body, I had begun to waver between fiction and reality. My body was confused. My vision was descending. I couldn't understand the sounds around me. But I knew one thing; that my face was covered in blood. I could feel it seeping into my shirt. I wanted to go home.

   • • •

I woke up to rain pattering hard on my face. The night had rolled in, plus the storm clouds, and it was so dark I couldn't see anything. I was sprawled out in a T-pose, my body completely limp and aching.

I had lost again.

When I sat up, I realized how cold I was. The rain was almost icy, and I couldn't feel my toes. I knew that was a bad sign, and got up and began walking. I wasn't walking home. I mother had probably concluded that I stayed the night at Jayden's, and I did want to worry her by coming home soaked and shivering and bloody in the middle of the night.

I could see in front of me now. There was a flickering street lamp here and there, lighting the glossy streets with a warm glow. There was also a bright sky-wide gleam above me every few seconds, along with the deafening sound of thunder screaming in my ears.

I felt dizzy in a way, but at the same time wide awake. As if I had just woken up from a five hour long nap after getting home from school. I felt so terrible on the inside, though. My mind had been lost, with no way to get it back, gone forever. I couldn't think straight anymore. I couldn't walk straight.

But I didn't cry. I wouldn't indulge in weakness. It would only make the bullying worse.

I continued walking, toughing out the cold, almost wanting someone to come and finish me off, when I heard a loud bang in the distance and a scream. I looked around.

Bang. B-bang. I spun around and there was a spinning light in the sky, before fading to the ground. Fireworks.

It was the Fourth of July. I had forgotten. I paused to watch, forgetting about the rain. Sparks and laughter flew into the shower like a light in the dark. Then I continued walking.

Turning the corner, I stopped when I saw Jayden. Also shivering and wet, but he had a raincoat on. He stopped, too. Frozen, eyes widened with curiosity and surprise.

"Tommy?"

Him. He was my reminder; my reminder of me. Forcing me to remember who I was. I didn't want to feel that way.

"Why do you have blood on your face?"

And I ran. I just ran. Away from him, away from everything I loved. I could hear him calling behind me, Tommy, Tommy!

No! I told myself, Don't go back. He was the reason that I was who I was.

Images and people flashed through my mind. Go cry to your boyfriend! You fag! You don't belong here! Murderer! MURDERER!!

When I got home, I slammed the front door behind me. Holding back tears, shivering. It didn't look like my mother was home. About to fall apart, I speed walked to my room.

Storming into the darkness, frantically looking around, I couldn't hold back my tears anymore. Guilty thoughts filled my head.

Why do I feel this way? Why do I even have the privilege to feel? Why couldn't have I just died that day in the hospital? What did I do to deserve this? Why am I like this? Why am I like this?

Suddenly I knew. My life was a crime. It was stolen from someone innocent.

I am going to go back, I told myself in anger, and I am going to get that kid's life back to him.

But I couldn't just go.

Face covered in tears and blood, I opened my drawer in my nightstand and whipped out a piece of paper, then grabbed a pencil on the top of it. There was nowhere to write, so I just sat on the carpet, risking having shaky handwriting and ripping the paper.

I knew exactly what to write.

do you know how it feels?
do you feel it too?
I never would've thought that
you . . .
how I am with you
I am safe
I am sound
I am okay
I feel
found
being friends with you was a present I didn't deserve
to touch you was a gift
to kiss you was a privilege
I want you to know
I'd do it all over again
just to love you a little less
because you need to know
when I was with you
I felt my best

I slammed the pencil down, staring at the paper. A few tear marks dampened the writing. A drip of blood splattered on the bottom right corner. Shit.

Rereading my writing, I could see the weak desperation. I wondered what he would think if he read it. I loved him. I loved him and I hated it. Out of everyone in this world, it had to be my best friend. Why am I like this?

Suddenly it hit me. This looked exactly as it was. A love letter. A suicide note. A mistake.

I fell to my side, rolling over to my back where my arms lay by my side. I let weak tears roll to my ears. I could taste blood still. I am going to do it. But there's something I need to do first.