Missing Your Chances (phan)

Chapter 11 {EDITED}

I was beyond furious with myself, practically throwing the laptop off of my legs. I needed a way to vent but didn't have any plans when I stormed out of the room. Martyn and Kayla were together on the couch cuddling like a couple who had known each other for years, both of them asleep. Brilliant. My brother and pretty much my only other friend had fallen for each other. They hadn't had anything standing in their way, like gender or anything like that. They were lucky, and I was jealous. If you mix jealousy and anger, I'm pretty sure you can figure out that the outcome isn't good.

"I want you two out of my house!" I roared, glaring at the people who were now scrambling off of the couch. Kayla looked quite scared, never having heard me yell. I knew it was wrong, but I enjoyed seeing her fear, and would love to see her flee. I banished those thoughts to the back of my mind, scaring me. Martyn stood up, anger flashing in his eyes, though he didn't scare me in the slightest. I could fall from the window and I still would only feel this blinding anger laced with nostalgia and jealousy.

"You will not talk to her like that. I don't know what has gotten into you, Phil, but this needs to stop." I gave him a look that said 'you really just asked that' while they gathered their jackets and shoes. He raked a hand through his hair, knowing his mistake. I wonder if he ever realized the mistakes that he made back in high school that already caused me to have these cold feelings.

"I'm sorry, but please leave. I'd like to be alone." I locked eyes with him, putting all of the coldness and hatred I could muster into the look. He shook his head, sitting down on the couch. From just his posture you could he was extremely stressed, but I didn't care. He shouldn't even be here so he didn't have any reason to be stressed and looking for sympathy from me of all people.

"Kayla, love, can you go back to the hotel? I think I need to explain some things to Phil," I stared off into space as Martyn said this; Kayla silently grabbed her things, moving as quickly as she could. I froze, Martyn's words coming together in my head. She was with Martyn-like, with with. I should have guessed no random girl could have weaselled her way into my life and have not been connected to me in a way other than YouTube; they wouldn't have been able to understand.

As soon as Kayla left I looked at him, my expression completely blank. I was tired of having to put up with this and didn't want to have to take it any more but didn't say anything. I looked at Martin, him shifting uncomfortably under the weight of my eyes. Looking at the ground, he sighed, muttering two words that would've helped him if he had done it a while ago, but it was too late for them. He couldn't regain any of my respect, nor my forgiveness.

The 'I'm sorry' that he muttered didn't mean anything to me, but I wanted to know if he knew everything that he had done wrong, both when we were younger and today. Did he ever realise how stupid he could act?

"For what?" He faltered at this, but I still kept a steady stare on him, not taking my eyes off of him once.

"For everything. For yelling at you and being so hard on you when you're going through a hard time like this. For sending Kayla to look after you when I was too afraid to come check up on you myself. For... for not being there." He stared at the ground, ashamed. It was time to tell him why I was really mad.

"Sorry, wrong answer. No prize for you! That may be part of the reason that I'm mad at you, and certainly is the reason that I exploded like that, but it isn't correct. The reason that I am mad goes way back, all the way into high school. You told me something that I still haven't forgotten, and it took me one step further into depression. Over time I found one thing that made it so that I was okay with myself, and that I wasn't a piece of crap that shouldn't be alive. That one thing was called a friend-my best friend. Now, I don't have that mental crutch, and I don't have any way to deal with my problems. Along with that, I have buckets of stress that has suddenly just been dumped on me, along with the old wounds that have just been reopened. You are being more of a nuisance than a help right now, Martyn, and I don't know what to do with you. I know I shouldn't just kick you and Kayla out and never talk to you again, like I really want to, but I don't know how to deal with you. I don't know what to do any more!"

Martin looked near tears, but held them in, sighing to himself. "I hoped that you had forgotten about that. I hoped that it wasn't as horrible as I remembered it to be, and that it wouldn't affect you as much as I thought it would, but I was wrong. The world did manage to get under your skin, and I did manage to hurt you, but I am sorry, Phil. I wish I could take it all back, and heal all of the scars that I left. I wish I hadn't been so stupid."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. Really? He thought he could fix it with just a few words? It may have started with just a few words, but it certainly is going to take a lot more to fix it. Did he even know what I had almost done the night after? How close I had come to ending my own life? To be honest, I kind of wish I had. Then I wouldn't have caused Dan so much pain, nor have had to go through so myself.

"You can't, though. You can't heal the scars. You can't take it back. The damage it done and you can't fix it. You are just too late, and there isn't any need for you to even try any more, so why don't you and Kayla just go back home? Can't you just pack up your thing and act like none of this ever even happened? Just pretend that you hadn't even interfered. It would be a lot easier for everyone that way."

Martyn looked at me with glistening eyes, but I still showed him the door. Some small part of me said that this wasn't the way I should deal with these problems, but I completely ignored it. As soon as I knew that he was gone, I broke down and cried myself to sleep, right in the middle of the floor, in full clothing. For the first time in a long time I dreamt about the time I almost committed suicide-or, the events leading up to it.