𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 || jj 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

011

ITS BEEN WEEKS SINCE JOHN B AND Sarah's deaths. I'm locked myself in my bedroom, blaming myself to such an extreme level that the thought of coming face to face with the other pogues makes me physically ill.

I'm the reason that their best friends are dead, so the thought of hanging out with them makes me want to down an entire bottle of pills. I'm actually surprised I haven't done that by now. I've sure as shit thought about it.

I've spent these depressing weeks lying in bed, staring at my ceiling from morning to night. Everything seems so pointless, so I don't understand why I should do anything but lie in bed and wish to join John B and Sarah.

The guilt of Peterkin's death has been weighing down on me, too. It's felt like it's slowly gnawing at me piece by piece, threatening to engulf me whole if I don't do something to subdue my guilt.

If you were to go back to the root of this entire situation, you would find yourself watching as I ran away from Rafe, leaving the gun behind after trying to kill said boy. That thought has made me cry so many times that I've ran out of tears several days ago.

I've always thought that grief was the strongest emotion, but I don't agree with that anymore. The hatred I have for myself has overshadowed my grief, making me turn into a shell of who I used to be. It's not like I was a good person before I became a shell, however.

Any time I close my eyes, Sarah, John B, Peterkin, and Rafe's faces flash through my mind, never allowing me a moment of peace. I'm not saying that I deserve peace, though. I don't think anyone even remotely similar to me would deserve peace.

Over the past couple of weeks, the pogues have tried several times to get my ass out of bed. Pope has tried three times, Kie has tried eight times, and JJ has tried a whopping thirteen times. It's no surprise that I've seen the pogues more than my own parents, though. I'm just grateful that mom and dad let me come back home after the storm incident.

Speaking of my parents, they informed me just last night that I start my junior year at The Kook Academy in two days. That piece of information has only added onto my pain and suffering. The thought of facing those rich assholes has made me ponder on the most brutal ideas, and I've almost given in multiple times.

The behavior from the kooks will be even worse this time around. With the common knowledge around the island that Rafe and I have broken up, the Cameron boy's high school friends— which I don't understand why he even has, since he's supposed to be a sophomore in college— have made it their personal responsibility to blow up my phone, sending me relentless threats and harsh words. Some of Sarah friend's have also sent me messages, but they aren't nearly as nasty as the one's Rafe's friends have sent me. I don't know whether I deserve mercy from Sarah's friends or not, though.

So, as I stare at my bedroom ceiling, like I have been for the past couple of weeks, I decide it's time to get up and do something with myself. If I'm going to be a stalking corpse, I might as well do something about it.

I change into an old hoodie and shorts before grabbing my shoes. Padding over to my window, I lift the glass up before hopping onto my roof. I don't feel like facing my parents, so leaving by window is the best option. And hey, maybe I'll accidentally fall off the roof and the job will be finished for me.

After successfully making my way off of my roof, I begin walking to the nearest pharmacy, which is just a few streets down. As I make my way to the pharmacy, I keep my eyes trained on my feet, not daring to look up in fear of accidentally locking eyes with a kook who feels like I haven't been punished enough. I look like total shit, too, so I don't want the last sighting of me to be a shit one.