Most nights end like this

Friday Night

Dewey silently sleeps next to Malcolm. Lois and Hals pudding stopped half an hour ago, the house was silent apart from the odd creek and rattle of the taps. Malcolms rolls over and faces Reese, who's reading comics under his covers as to not hear the display in the room over. Shaking him Malcolm whispers 'Reese.' Reese poked his head out of his blanket, 'what?' 'You know what I want, my beer,' 'Fine, I'll be back in an hour or something,' 'an hour? What are you going to do that takes an hour?' 'Oh I see, you're meeting a girl.' 'Reese gives a blank smile, knowing he couldn't be further from the truth. Malcolm whispers mockingly 'Jessica,' Reese laughed along, jokingly drawing his fist back.

Jumping out of the window, he looks back at Malcolm, 'I'll wake you up when I get back.' He ran off into the night.

He started with a slow jog, just to get out of his block, before breaking into a sprint. His lungs burnt, intense pain haunted every breath. His mind only focused on his straining muscles, the pain that twinges on his feet, the raw feeling in his throat. His body aching, his muscles twinging, this is real, this is living, for a while he wasn't worried or depressed.

He stopped at a bus stop, wanting to escape his small shithole town. '$2.50 for a return ticket,' the tired bus driver droned, 'Reese handed over the money with a relived smile, he was free for the night. Leaning against the window he quietly hummed to himself. His mind wondering to his fantasy land. his smile widens at the idea of a better life, happiness feels real for a second. His friends all are having a party, cheering him up as he shows his drinking skills, none of them care about how smart he is, none of them care about his family, none of them prefer his brother, none of them know him as a loser, none of them exist. 'Elmbringe street, end of the line,' the bus driver shouted out, Reese jumped out of his seat, walking out of the bus.

The stars gleamed down upon the street, a pale light shown down the cracked sidewalks. Reese walked around looking for a liquor or convenience store, lighting a cigarette he strolled around. The smoke clouds faded into the sky, the smell polluting him, like a body mist. The cars, few in number, each passed down in a hurry, their colours faded into the dark. A dingy shop laid ahead, next to a cheap looking strip club. Half the lights were out, and the strip clubs moving light display of a girls boobs flashed on and off. Reese knew what he had to do; what he had to prove.

'Mr McCoy, that'll be $5 for the beer and here's your change in ones,' the clerk knowingly smiled, 'Thanks,' Reese stated, lugging the beers off the counter top and into his backpack. He hesitantly made his way towards the strip club, he'd never been in one before.

His confusing feelings ought to be straightened out by this. Once he sees to hot, sweaty girls gyrating and jiggling up amd down the poles, he was sure to be straight. Once he saw their hot boobs bounce around in a barely-there bikini top, with their asses squating up and down, beckoning men in, he was sure to be normal. He pushed forward, still reluctant. There was a queue of two men, it was just opening hour. He gave himself a small pep talk, 'You're a man, act like one, don't be a fag, it's weird,' mildly disgusted with himself he knew that he didn't hate gays, he just hated the idea of being one, he was already an outsider. His disconnect was fueled by his hopeless repressed thoughts. Him not knowing that repression can only lead to suffering, went up to the entrance, greeting the pimp at the door. 'ID.' Reese passed it over, for once nervous about it. Looking up and down then at Reese he stated with a deep voice 'OK, you're in,' and with a firm push through the door, Reese was there.

The bartender announced each girl as she came on, 'Brandi-lee, Britney, Mandy, Debbie! These girls are ready to play, but are you ready to pay?' He said like a bingo announcer, 'Half price of any cocktail if you tip any girl over $30!' Mandy walked over to him, her thick black hair covering her shoulders, her pale skin glowing under the red light. 'Hey handsome,' she said to Reese. Panic. Instant panic, Reese never spoke to girls, (he never wanted to) and now one was approaching him. A weak 'Uh hi,' came out of his mouth. 'Hey just $18 and I'll ride you like a rodeo horse,' she said, staring at his body. She grabbed him tight, taking the money from his hand, stuffing it into her miniskirt waistband. She stood up, straightening out her body only to lunge forward, hovering above him on her knees. 'Oh God, I hate this, why do I hate this, why can't I be normal??' A million questions ran through Reese's mind as the girl grabbed his hand, placing it on her breasts. Reese tried to move it, but her grasp was assertive. Her voice vacant and sexy, her eyes closed and lost, 'wow you're a natural,' Reese knew it was scripted but played along, he didnt know what else to do, 'yea.' She grabbed him closer, he shut his eyes, wishing for the moment to be over, her lips an inch away from his face, her tongue licking her teeth. She flipped around, now facing away from him, grinding on him from behind, 'You're not much of a talker, I like that,' she flirted. Reese gave a small smile, it felt good to be complimented, no matter who said it. He could barely focus on what was happening. His shame flashing in his head, big bold letters flashed at him, spelling out the worst of himself. Trying to be attracted to her he focused on her perky breasts; her nipples hard, this is just how Francis described it. He watched them slide from side to side, up and down. As she hovered over him. He was in another dimension, looking outside, looking at some kid who was clearly not into it. He did his best to pretend that he enjoy it, but no luck. A realisation hit, a sickness in his brain, and a sickness him his stomach. He pushed her aside, with a small thank, chucking a few dollars her way. He ran out.

His hand holding him up against a grimy wall, he breathes, not knowing what to do. Reese lights a cigarette, looking for some quite nook to be alone. Walking down the street and barely keeping it together he has intense regret. 'I can't believe I was so fucking stupid, of course I wouldn't enjoy it,' he said to himself, his teeth gritted hard, biting into his lip. He goes down a quite street and sees an old dilapidated phone box. He punches it, glass shattering all over his hand, then he runs. Not a thought, nothing, just blood, pain and burning. His hands a kaleidoscope of soreness.

His feet barely able to hold him anymore, after what seemed like an hour of running at full speed he found this forest. Going deep into it he's in the bish behind a clearing. He was at makeout point.

Frisky, popular teens sat in eachothers cars, making out, or more. Reese pulled glass put of his fist, sneaking over to the cars, slashing their tires. 'If I'm unhappy they have to be unhappy too, its not fair,' he childishly justified. Before running off the other end of the woods, and collapsing.

Laying on the ground tears start to roll, his face puffy and raw, his eyes bloodshot. He convulses after each cry, trying to be quite, he didnt want to be found. He's weak, and he knows it. Racked with self hatred he rolls around, wishing for nothing more than for the ground to swallow him. He hated crying, that's what people who couldn't fight back did. He jumps up, tears still rolling, he's hyperventilating. He punches a tree, working bark into wounds. They sting of disappointment and hatred. The trees bark crumbles off a little more after every git. Sweat beaded down his face, blending in with the tears. His breathe getting shallow and blocked up he's forced to stop, heaving for any air. This only fuels his rage, he goes for a huge punch, twisting his whole body round, his jab is met with the sound of a cracked knuckle. He walked away, a little better than earlier.

He grabbed his shitty watch out of his bag, it was 11:34, fuck only11 minutes until the next bus comes. He was 2 or 3 miles away from the bus stop, he knew that he could make it. He jumped out of the forrest, sprinting with his arms down to the bus stop, barely using his energy to breathe, his lips turning a slight blue. His head entirely wet from sweat. The summers heat never helped. His chest heaved a battle cry. He wasn't thinking, the pain was a distraction. Half his left hand had lost feeling, glacing at the glass and bark that flew off. He jumped onto the bus at the last second, quickly handing over his ticket, and collapsing on his seat. A night shift worker stared the sweaty badly hurt boy, and said nothing.

He made his way back to his house in a slow, mildly limped walk. He checked his face in his watches reflection, a bit red, slightly puffy, but he didn't mind too much. The moonlight graces him, not showing the state he was in. He still hadn't fully accepted the truth, still tried to rationalise hope, 'maybe it was her face, or her body, maybe her hair, what if I'm more of a private lover?' He told himself, knowing damn right it wasn't true. He missed how ignorant he was just hours ago. His mind walked to the kids at makeout point. He was never gonna have that, young love, love at all, he couldn't. He would never have a normal childhood experience, he couldn't. He was never going to be able tomake friends, meet with girls, go to parties, he was a reject loner. He didn't cry, he was too defeated to cry. He stared up at the stars, a stinging sensation gracing his body, a sharp stab haunting his brain. He had tried everything he knew, he hurt others, he punched stuff, what else can you do? Bury it, so he just tried to stop caring, even tough it was in his nature to, he just didn't want to care- or feel anymore.

He climbed through his window, only to see Malcolm up late studying. 'Why are you back so late, there's a store half an hour away?' 'I went to a party,' Reese quickly responded, dumping his bag on his bed, he pulled out Malcolms beers, passing them to him, 'what happened at that party?' 'I beat a guy up,' 'Well that's great,' Malcom didn't look at Reese's face, if he did he would have seen his puffed cheeks and red eyes. 'I'm going to sleep.'