Beneath / Small Town

7

24/05/20XX
Everything is okay now. I don’t have to go anywhere. There is no place I have to be. I am content within my own shell.

That’s a lie, I really want to see Boombox and Skateboard and Rocket and everyone else again. Zuka invited me over for dinner for the day after tomorrow,  so I guess I’m attending. Rocket’s friend is invited, which will be quite the interesting moment. I don’t think I’ve properly met them before.

Here’s some things I did whilst at the hospital: Make paper stars, mull over my plain idiocy for not giving the guys at school my number, and homework. Sometimes I would take a walk out to the balcony when I wasn’t rotting on my bed with all sorts of wires and bandages that lead to something. It was a nice view, reminding me of a hamster cage the way we were trapped, mainly to prevent harm being done and (I guess) to make sure patients didn’t fucking kill themselves. 

I might get carpal tunnel from how much I write in these. Like the Fall Out Boy song, but I’m pretty sure that song’s about sex or something. 

My bed smells warm. Not any particular smell other than the perfume I use, but the parts where it hasn’t lingered onto the sheets yet has that warmth type of smell. I don’t know how to describe it, I guess the scent of freshly washed sheets I guess.

25/05/20XX
Mega woke me up this morning, around 5 am. He wanted to show me where his workplace was since he was working either really early in the morning or late at night, so I guess it was fine. It’s a place not too far from our home by walk, but it definitely would be easier to simply drive there. I sat under the bridge again, the occasional early train rolling past. For some reason, I keep expecting Boombox, and everytime I do, he shows up. It’s like he has some sort of telepathic sense that I want to see him again, and just follows with it because we’re both hormonal teenagers with nothing better to do in our lives. I think Boombox and I have gotten close, or close enough that he decides that I can be invited to a sleepover. It wasn’t a bad idea, but why invite the one guy who's practically a maniac and doesn’t even speak, for the deities’ sake? 
All he does is talk and talk until his voice wears out. I keep staring into his visor, almost like I’m begging for him to take it off. Everytime he notices, he does remove it. I love his eyes, they’re like little crystals which spark. They compliment his ivory eyelashes well. It makes me want to FUCKING GOUGE THEM OUT. FUCK.

Why do I keep commenting on him like this? Am I crazy, or something? Gosh, I might as well be, but maybe he’s the insane one for not knowing how bad my stupid interest within him truly is. Do friends think of friends like this? I don’t know, I think I can respect a guy and admire their features without it being weird or gay, but it just feels so odd and disgusting now that I actually try it out for myself. I feel sweaty and shaky and all these other things and my hands feel all sticky from the sweat and my throat starts to close up again and.

Gosh, I need to take a break, but I don’t fucking know if I can. He acts all lovey dovey as if it’s a normal thing to do, as if it’s a normal thing to be this way. I know for a FACT he doesn’t act like this around demons like Coil and Slingshot and all his other friends, so why me? Why is he doing this to me? Is this another one of his taunts and he’s fucking with me again? I swear if he is, I’m going to rip his goddamn skull out because this is the shittiest joke ever.

Just a couple minutes ago he moved beside me, looking the other direction whilst talking about something. He took a good look at me, then the book, chuckling for some reason. “You really write in that book all the time, huh?” He asks, tilting his head like fucking curious George or some shit, and I could FEEL the heat on my face before closing the book and keeping it next to me until his focus laid off of it. Boombox is the most annoying piece of shit there is, and I have no idea WHY he is my friend.