I Don't Even Know ❇ malum au

4

Imagine seeing ^that^ in like a park or something.  I'd die... Or I'd, well, nope...  I'd still die.  You feel me???

That last thing that I ever wanted to worry about when I was stressed was homework.  Everybody hates homework.  Well, Ashton seemed to be okay with it before he graduated - but still.  He nearly failed.

I didn't have decent grades, and neither did I have a way to con any teacher into upping my grade.  I didn't have enough sex appeal to play the part.  Neither did I have a decent bribe.  My father kept all the money.  Which, sucked badly, considering I didn't have the slightest idea on how to buy groceries when I ran out.

Oh wait - that's right.

I'd been too lazy to eat, and I had even lost my appetite.  But I wasn't complaining.  I was rather proud of myself.  I was a twisted little freak.  But I definitely didn't want people seeing me as that.  I wanted to be excepted, to be beautiful.  Well, okay, I didn't exactly understand why a straight guy would want to be beautiful, but so be it.

I wanted to be fucking amazing.

So when I walked through my bedroom door, expecting to make myself do my homework, I had a change of heart.  I slung my textbooks onto my bed, falling face first onto it after.  I let the bed comfort me, because no one else was there to do it.

Ew, my blankets were starting to stink.  I figured that I should probably wash them sometime soon.  Well, I could have always texted Ashton and asked him how to use a washing machine.  Though, I knew that I probably wouldn't get a response, and I just didn't think that I could deal with that.

Mission Staying Okay

Yep, that was a shitty mission that I went ahead and decided to try to accomplish.

•••

Once I had my bedspread in the washer and being cleaned, I decided that I should maybe play a video game.  Yeah, that sounded pretty good at the time.

I made my way through the annoyingly narrow hallways and into the entertainment room.  Even though I had no money, myself - my father was a rich fucker who bought an unnecessarily large home that he didn't even stay in much, anymore.

I didn't make sense to me.

Though, what did make sense was when I started up where I had last left off on my game of Spyro.  I hadn't enjoyed most video games, honestly - even though Ashton had always made fun of me for being a shut-in gamer.  I guessed that the sky world with the little, purple dragon just held a special place in my fragile heart.

Sadly, I kept jumping in the wrong direction.  I ended up running out of my limited lives, and damnit, I didn't save anything.  So I went straight back to where I was when I last left off.  This caused my grip on the controller to tighten, my breathing to become heavy, and my eyes to slam shut in frustration.

Fuck it.

I quickly turned of the game system and television, sure that the washing cycle had to be done at that point.  I stomped through the hallways, pouting that I had to lift a wet and heavy blanket just to put it into the drier.

I had acquired a headache in this process, getting the urge to do something that I knew I probably shouldn't have.

I needed sleep, even though it was still three hours before the time that I usually turned in for the days.  I remembered where my father had left the aspirin, smiling when I actually found it.  I twisted open the lid, cursing when I had some trouble.

Stupid child proofed lids.

Once I had it open, it was my original plan to only take two or three - what I usually took.  Though, somewhere along the way - I didn't care when a few more than three pills spilled out into my hand.  I mean, it wasn't the whole bottle.  I had enough sense to figure that it wasn't particularly a fatal dosage.  Just enough to help me sleep, and be rid of the pain that pulsed from either of my temples.

Ten pills - that's how many I swallowed.

It wasn't a pleasurable thing to swallow down something kind of powdery, expecting to choke on the amount.  Though, surprisingly, it went down without trouble.  It was as though I were swallowing a melting piece of ice.

I crashed back against the counter, wondering what I had just did.  No, it wasn't enough to really hurt me.  Though, I had no idea of what the possible side effects could have been.  I probably wouldn't be faced with much if any side effects, seeing that hungover people basically inhaled aspirin.

Hungover - alcohol - that led to yet another brilliant action on my part.

My father had a liquor cabinet hidden away in the basement, next to my room.  He had always kept it locked, but for some reason it was unlocked when I went down to check it out.

Stupid father...

I swung open the cabinet, a big, morbid grin on my face.  It was a morbid grin because, I knew that this was something that I definitely should not have done.  And in knowing that, it gave me a weird, mental pleasure.  The fact that I was doing something that could affect me negatively, it was a drug to me.  Rather than sticking it to the man, I was sticking it to myself.

I proved to myself just how much I hated me.

I eagerly grabbed onto a bottle filled with a nasty, rust colored liquid.  It took me a while to open it, but it was worth it to me.

Honestly, I didn't know anything about much of anything.  I didn't know that alcohol would truthfully have an effect on me.  I just figured that it would give me the urge to do stupid things rather than taking away my will to avoid the idiocy.

Though, after just a few drinks, I knew that I needed to stop.  I was already messed up, and my throat burnt like hellfire.  I guessed I was just desperate for an immediate remedy.  And escaping in that alcohol sure did feel like a remedy to me.  My head no longer hurt, and all of my body was lost in the true state of numbness.

I couldn't even begin to understand how I ever made it up the stairs.  It was also confusing as to how I knew to go for the blankets and bed.

I guessed that human instincts would just always stick around, even though doing laundry wasn't particularly an instinct of mine.  I was more of one to be compelled more so to sleep and mope around.

Though, as I'd figured out before, life was weird.

•••

It was after I had made my bed and thrown myself onto it that I was convinced that I was dying.  The aspirin and the few drinks of the strong liquor really did have me feeling limp.

"Mikey, Mikey, Michael," I started addressing myself.

"You stupid idiot.  You may've just killed your fucking self.  You're dying, face it.  You're dying, and Ash," I choked up, tears streaming down my pale face.  "Ashton is n-never going to go to fucking America.  H-he's gonna spend the rest of his life stoning, lose his mind, and die too!"

I cried and cried and cried.

"You fucking ruin e-everything!  That's why your dad left you - you piece of shit!  You fat, piece of shit.  You're stupid, you're going to die now!"

At that moment, I began to wish that I was actually dying.  I didn't want to deal with anything, anymore.  I wanted to disappear.  Though, it was saddening that I figured that my journal would never be put to good uses I had planned.

I thought that I was going to die and never be remembered.  But the way that I looked at it, that was the best way to go.  To never create bonds between people who wouldn't have anything else left after I passed.

I never did think that aspirin and alcohol could be the death of me.

Though, who ever really thought about the moments like that in life when they could be focusing on getting happy?

(A/N)  Mikey is beautiful!

And he is NOT dead, fYI...

This chapter was complete shit...

BLeH