Don't hurt me.

Chapter 19

I fucked up. Big time. I monumentally fucked up. I'm fucking screwed. Here I am in a 30-or-something year old woman's house, in her goddamned bed. Naked. I'm fucking naked. I'm also pretty sure I took something I shouldn't have on account of the dresser across the room is melting. I can feel the sweat pouring off of me and hear my heart rate rising as I panic. I feel my body begin to shake 'no no no. Stop it you'll wake the women' is all I can think as I uncontrollably shake and shiver. This is a bad trip.

"OH MY GOD! What's happening? Wh-why are you shaking?" A distant female voice shrieks but I can hardly hear her over the music. Where's that music coming from.

"H-h-hey c-can you turn down the music?" I slur out.

"What music? Kid are you okay?" She says. I feel wrong. The room looks as if its closing in. I start panicking and screaming. Through the screams and my beating heart I hear "I'm calling the cops kid!" Then I was out. Like that.

-------•--------•---------•--------•-------•-

When I come to I'm in an all white room on a bed and a doctor is shining a light into my eyes. "He must've had a bad acid trip." He seems to be talking to someone I can't see. "Why am I here?" I demand. "Well son, you woke up still high off acid in an older woman's apartment and started shaking and claiming the walls where closing in and melting. So she called the cops." The doctor says in a monotonous voice.

"Can I leave?" I ask just wanted to get home. "We'll not without a parent because you are a minor. Also a police man would like to know why you where naked in a 36 year old women's bed. He's gonna ask you some questions." The old doctor man says.

'Fuck I can't leave' I thought as a policeman enters the room. "What's your name kid?" He asks. "It's Des." I say dryly just needing to get out of here. I hate cops. "Now why was a young kid like you, I'm guessing you're what 14 or 15," "15" I interject. "Right 15 year old kid doing naked in a grown woman's bed?" He questions. Honestly I don't know how. "I don't know. We must have hooked up. I can't remember. The last thing I remember was being super shitfaced when my mate asked if I wanted to go to a club because he had connections. I agreed and I went to the club. I must have net her there." I say struggling to remember how I met and if we even fucked.

"So an under aged kid like you had access to beer, drugs, and clubs meant for adults?" The officer questions.

"Obviously. I mean drugs aren't THAT hard to get and alcohol is easy to obtain at parties. And the clubs well, like I said my mate had connections." I say laughing at his stupidity. "You should be questioning that woman. She probably came on to me." I say rather cockily. "Look son just give me your information so I can call your legal guardians." He snaps, coming across as annoyed. I reluctantly give him my mums number and he calls her.

"Well kid your mum is on the way to get you. Now, she says you ran off. I don't know what kind of home life you have but I do know that these habits I'm assuming you've got are self destructive." He says like I don't already know that shit. "What you must understand is that I'm extremely and inevitably depressed." I say grinning almost laughing as he gives me a sad look and walks out the door.

About 2 hours later my mum came to collect me. Giving me the whole 'you're better than this behaviour' speech. My response is of course laughing. Now I'm in the car and my mum is discussing with the officer. They're looking at me and pointing and my mum is embarrassed and the officer is probably calling her a bad parent and my god does he know how right he is? He's probably calling me a horrible son and saying I need consoling and rehab and bullshit. And my mum is probably saying she's going to get me into those program's even though we both know she isn't. Now she's sitting next to me in the car starting it up.

"Destin do you know how embarrassing that was for me? What the hell where you thinking leaving like that?" She asked incredulously. "I was thinking 'wow I fucking hate it here why don't I leave?' I mean you obviously didn't care to come look for me until I fucked up right? You were happy I was out of your hair and goddammit I was happy to get the fuck away from you!" I yell feeling anger bubbling inside. Then I feel guilt washing over me as I see my mums face break but I don't care at this point. I'm too far gone. She's hurt and so am I.

When we finally get home after a painfully quiet car ride. I jump out and grab my bag and board. I start walking towards the house and I get in and slam the door behind me. I start up the stairs when I hear my step dad yell "DES GET THE FUCK OUT YOU AREN'T WELCOME IN THIS HOUSE!" I look down and see my mums broken expression as she says "maybe it'd be better if you just left." What the hell. I didn't want to come home anyway. "Where the fuck am I supposed to go?" I exclaim. How are they gonna bring back here just to kick me out? "Des you'll find somewhere." Is all my mum says. I walk up the steps and go into my room. "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU" I scream and punch the wall until my knuckles bleed. Then I swing my door open and walk to the door at the end of the hall opening it. My dads study. Where he died. I walk in shutting the door and sitting in his seat. I begin searching for it knowing its still here. I'm opening drawers them it hits me. They would never leave it where I could find it. I go over to the liquor cabinet getting the scotch and pouring myself a glass and going over to the book shelf. Then I see the book. His favourite book. I open the book and like I expected, a hole cut out and inside is the gun. I take it out dropping the book and walk back to the chair. I down the drink and clean the gun. No one cares if I live or die. They want me gone. I put the gun to my head shaking and crying. I sit there not having the courage to pull the trigger. I start to think. Why am I so goddamn pretentious and impulsive and stupid? I'm stupid because being stupid is a choice. I chose everything that I've done. I chose them to punish myself for merely being me. Maybe that's why my dad did what he did. Did he hate himself too or did he hate me? Everyone says its normal to blame yourself for a while after someone kills themselves but then they realise that it was the dead person selfish decision but I've been blaming myself for years. I think it's because he didn't love me or that I was too whiny and weak as a child. God how could he be so selfish? Now here I am in his same position trying to get into a dead person head. I'm being selfish too but I don't honestly think it'd hurt as much if I died like it did when he did.

I'm ready to go. I begin to tighten my hand on the trigger. My eyes pouring out tears. "I'm ready" I say and begin to pull the trigger when the door burst open and Finn lunges at me pull the gun from my hand. I hear it fall to the ground with a clang. "Des. Please stop. I won't let them make you leave. If you go I go too. I have money saved up. We can get a flat. How's that sound?" He says. But I can't tell him that it sounds amazing because I'm crying too hard and I'm too sad. He's crying now too and at this point I know he's all I have left in this world. He knows this too. "You shouldn't have left." He chokes out. "I know." I cry and now he's pulling me up and taking me to my room talking about how we'd go look for flats tomorrow and that I need to sleep. So I do. I black out for hours.