Forever and Always

Chapter 7: Part Two

Chapter 7: Part Two

WARNING!!! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND SUICIDE!

Max's POV:

The numbers on the grey, rectangular alarm clock were blinking menacingly. As if threatening me with its brightly flashing, large, red digits. I kept my gaze on the offensive device, engaging in some sort of odd stare-down with the thing. Although my eyes hurt, I kept up my leering. This ridiculous competition between me and the clock served as only a distraction to the melancholic thoughts plaguing my subconscious mind.

I have been sitting on this pale grey couch for the past 4 hours. Doing what one may ask? DRINKING!! I was drowning my sorrows in alcohol again. And this time, I have no intention of stopping. I want to die. I no longer want to live on this earth. I have finally given into the intrusive thoughts I have been having for the past five years. I served no purpose here. My existence was insignificant. Right here, right now, within this moment, it dawned on me that everyone would be better off if I were no longer alive.

Now, one may want to enquire what had led me into this cycle of existential dread? The answer was simple. Guilt..Yes..guilt..! The events of today had sparked a bout of self reflection, which eventually spiraled into a spell of guilt and self-pity.

I looked pathetic, collapsed upon the couch, legs outstreched in front of me, half on the floor, my upper body slowly sinking onto the floor, no longer able to keep itself in an upright position. I felt as deplorable as I looked. Overwhelming waves of culpability washed over me. I hated myself for what I had done. The events of the afternoon played like a horror movie in mind. I tried to shut some of it out, alcohol becoming a method of trying to block out what had occured between me and the boy in that hotel room, how I had yelled at him, how I had threatened him, how I had hurt him...

Try as I might, I just couldn't seem to eradicate the image of his sullen face from my memory. I couldn't stop thinking about the pain I must have inflicted upon him. I tried to reason with myself, to tell myself that he was just putting on an act of pity to lull me into some sort of sense of false sympathy toward him, but somewhere deep down within me I knew that wasn't true. It seemed as if my head and my heart were at war. One desperately wanted to believe the boy was a chiseler, and the other viewed the boy as completely innocent and breathtakingly beautiful.

"You're fucking horrible Ren!" I laughed at myself, taking another swig of whiskey from the bottle. "So fucking stupid and useless! All you ever do is mess up other people's lives! Can't fucking do anything right, can you? This is why no one wants you! This is why Papa hates you..." I whispered into the air.

I pulled my knees up to my chest. Sobs wrecked my form. "Papa hates you Ren!" I cried. "He used to love you but you destroyed that love! Just like you destroy everything you have! And now you probably destroyed that boy's life, too! You're a pathetic piece of crap!"Mama and Papa would be happier if you were gone!"

I may be a stubborn jackass, but even I knew this was true. My parents would be happier if I were gone. If I were out of the way, they could focus on grooming Ton to take over the family business. Ton would be able to do what I failed to do and be the son my parents actually wanted. Ton and Sammy would be able to take the family name to new heights, unlike myself who only ever aspersed my family's reputation with instances of my violent behavior and photos of my drunken state headlining the local newspapers.

I was an embrassment to my family. A burden to the few friends I managed to keep, and now I was the villain in an innocent kid's life.

I sat for another hour, polishing off bottle after bottle of liquor. I had thrown up several times. My body went into a panic response from the copious amounts of alcohol, but I ignored it. I was determined to die tonight.