Troubled Thoughts

four

Pete

When Pete entered his flat again it looked like nobody was in here for ages. The curtains were blocking out all the light from the windows. There was only one little sun ray that broke through the darkness, where the curtains met in the middle of the window. And in that light Pete could see the dust dancing. His place was small and dirty. He never felt at home here. Maybe because he never wanted to. But he never noticed how sad this place actually looked and felt.

Pete sat down on the sofa that was placed in the middle of the room, which caused another dust cloud to fly off into the air. He closed his eyes for a moment. It was never silent in this house. He could hear cars rushing by. He could hear his next-door neighbours fighting. He could hear someone walking around upstairs. He could hear loud music playing somewhere in the building. Pete never really saw any of his neighbours while he lived here. He only heard them. They don't seem to leave their appartements at any time. But Pete was the same. He never really left his appartement. Or at least not because he necessarily wanted to. Maybe those people were like him. Maybe they just never really had a reason to leave their appartements.

The only two people he actually knew here were two boys who lived two floors above him. They were brothers. The Way-brothers were the only two people Pete actually talked to since he moved in here, which separated them from the rest of the neighbours and it made them Pete's friends. They were the only people who would knock at Pete's door every now and then and invite him into their appartement. Not that you actually need an invitation into the Way-appartement. Pete would spend a lot of time up there. With the brothers, some of their friends and some local junkies. Most of the time he was there, he got drunk or smoked pot or watched other people doing harder stuff.

Gerard and Mikey Way were okay. They didn't really do too hard stuff. They mainly offered people their appartement to stay and get high. Even though Gerard probably has an alcohol problem and Mikey might be on the edge to a serious drug use. Pete didn't even know why they lived alone in such a fucked-up place. He never asked them. Or maybe they told him and he just couldn't remember. Both ways, it didn't matter. Most of the people here had a bad background. Including Pete.

The first night in his appartement was bad. Pete lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His brain was working night shifts again. It was worse than before. Or at least it felt worse than before. Because now Pete knew what it felt like when his brain shut down. When the voices were silent. When he actually had some peace of mind. When Patrick sat next to him. When...

The next day Pete woke up late. Or at least it felt like he woke up late. He didn't check the time. The sun ray was breaking through the curtains already. Maybe he didn't really wake up though, because he never really fell asleep. But it must've been late when he got up from his bed.

The time was dripping like syrup. Pete was looking through his kitchen for something eatable. Unsuccessfully. He only found orange plastic cans, none of them contained any pills. Pete took all his remaining medications with him that night a little more that two weeks ago. The only not-empty things in his flat where bottles of alcohol. Some beer, and already opened bottles of vodka, some tequila and other stuff, and some cereals. Better than nothing Pete thought when he opened a bottle of warm, disgusting beer.

He slept better that night. Maybe thanks to the alcohol. But when he woke up he felt like the walls were coming closer and the air was getting thin.

This feeling didn't change during the whole day. It eventually got worse.

Pete spend most of his time in his flat. Well... he spend all of his time in his flat. He stopped counting the days. At some point he just went to sleep when he felt like it and barely eat. He mainly lived from the alcohol he found in his flat. He didn't open the curtains that kept all the light out. To Pete it didn't matter whether it was day or night.