Claustrophobic Mind

Chapter 28

When Billie Joe got to the guest bedroom he ran over to the bed and flopped down. He cried into the sheets while he punched the bed repeatedly. In that moment, he hated himself.

"Fuck! I hate myself! I hate Mike! I hate Fink! I hate Adie! I fucking hate everything!" Billie screamed while he continued to punch the bed.

He sobbed harder and harder into the sheets. Billie was thankful that Mike didn't follow him upstairs. He didn't want him to see him like this. He was ashamed and felt guilty for doing this.

Billie Joe didn't know why Mike would say those things to him. He couldn't do anything about it. He started to wonder if it was his fault that he was this way; that Fink was in his life. It was his mind after all. Of course he's responsible.

"It's all my fault. My fault, my fault. It was me. I did this, I did this," Billie mumbled to himself into the sheets.

He then started to feel like there was no way out. Billie didn't want to, but he started to think about suicide...again. All this time he had thought that he was getting better, but the amount of guilt that Mike threw on him at dinner made him destroy the progress. He wasn't getting better. He's suicidal, and it didn't feel good to admit it.

But why would Mike care anyway? He made it clear that he doesn't want to care for Billie Joe anymore and he wishes he was gone. Billie couldn't bring himself to blame him. He knew that he was the one to make Mike say these things. In the end, it all comes back on him.

Billie slid away from the bed and brought himself to the floor. He turned around so that his back was resting against the mattress. Then he wrapped his arms around his knees that were pulled to his chest. He started to rock himself, thankful that Mike hadn't come for him. If Mike saw him like this, he'd be in the mental home within an hour.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't be here," Billie whispered.

Billie Joe started to get anxious. He felt the tingling sensation in his chest that told him that anxiety was sure to come. He felt trapped, unable to leave the room that he was alone in. Billie thought he couldn't leave. He thought Mike would catch him. Kill him.

Billie looked down at his hands to see how badly they were shaking. Sure enough the trembling in his hands were unmistakable. This only made him nauseous.

"I need to get away. I need to get out. Out, out, out," Billie repeated.

He started to wonder why Fink wasn't there to help him. Usually it calmed Billie Joe for him to talk to someone he could trust. After all, Fink was just in his head.

"Shit...shit!" Billie hissed as he felt his chest tighten. No, no he can't do this. He gonna die.

Billie brought his hands to his temples. He started massaging them in an effort to release some tension. This had no effect, causing Billie to start pulling at his hair.

"What is wrong with me?! What the FUCK is wrong with me?!" Billie Joe shouted. He winced at his volume, sure that Mike heard.

Medication. His anxiety medication. Yes, yes, yes. That's what he needed. He needed help. He needed it to stop. Everything has to stop.

Billie Joe fumbled over to the bedside table, pulling at the tiny drawer to search for the pills. The tiny orange bottle rattled around making Billie even more anxious to grab it. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Eventually he got a hold of the medicine. He struggled to get the top off the frustrating container. His hands were shaking too much. Finally he got it open, a few pills flying across the floor.

In such an intense situation, Billie Joe forgot what the dose was. He shakily turned the bottle around so he could read the label. Undoubtedly, his assumption was correct. Tears ran down his face.