The Melon-Head Boy -a Simdil fanfiction-

Chapter twentyseven: ... Really?

(Warnings: *Captian America voice* LANGUAGE. no srsly swear words here but it shouldn't be surprising, like if you've made it this far

WRITER'S BLOCKKKKKKKKKKKK UGH

oh right I have a story SORRY I'VE ACTUALLY GONE TO GET HELPL WITH MY DEPRESSION SO I HAVE BEEN BUSY WITH THAT lol but it's not better cuz I started it like, a week ago... shhhhhh I've been busy)

-Simon- 

Fuck. me. Ugh. 

Why didn't I do anything? We were so close. Not metaphorically, we were figuratively inches apart from each other's lips. I always screw up.

I decided to do what I always do when I feel down; draw. I pulled out the drawing of a cartoon fox I've been working on... I don't really have all the money for pens, but I manage to get some. 

Ah, fuck it, I can't draw either. Is anyone even home? No one even noticed that I got home... Eh. That means I can get out of here, too.

Once I got out, it started to rain. Not caring, I continued walking outside. I quickly turned around again, heading back to the house. I need something to do outside. I can't draw, the paper'll just turn weird, feeling like used tissue paper. Longboard? I might slip... But it might stop raining...

Holding the longboard under my arm, I walked the short distance between my house and the skate park.

The park was basically abbandoned, with wooden chips sticking out of the out-of-age, unmodern jumps. This wasn't one of those fancy, new concrete skate parks, this park's jump wasn't with cut and coated. Well, it might've been ten or so eyars ago...

Even though the short walk, my hoodie was soaked and the already raven black colour had turned even darker. It caused a huge discomfort on the inside of it, feeling moist.

Soon enough, I am lost in skating. After several times of falling all my times are don't fall, don't fall, don't fall, don't fall. I am not that good at skateboarding.
I fall again, until the frustration takes over and the skate board literally flies away into a bush.

"God dammit!" I can hear myself echo through the forrest surrounding me. I run after the skateboard after getting up. "Fuck!" Finding the board wasn't difficult, it sticking out of a beflowered bush.  Just seeing it makes me angry again and I end up throwing it over the park. I know this isn't  about the skateboard. "WHY CAN'T YOU ACCEPT ME? WHY, WHY, WHY, GOD FUCKING DAMMIT". I end up sitting down in the dirt, which is turning into mud from the rain. "Why can't I accept you..."

The journey home takes a while. My feet won't bring me anywhere.

Finally home, and still alone, I find the locked liquor cabinet. Of course I know where the keys are. Dried seaweed, a package noone has or will open to eat from. The locker slides open easily, like it's been waiting for me. Scotch? Sure, doesn't matter what it is.

Everything goes fast from there. Things fall down, the feeling of water hit my face again and a puff of cold air hits me.

-Martin ayyyo-

I don't wanna get up. No, nope, nah, nein, nej no *in spanish*, nopeti nope. NOPE.
I lay wearing boxers in my bed. It's hard to Breathe in my room, but I refuse to open my window. It's warm in here and I a) don't wanna see what weather it is, nor b) put on a shirt. What for, anyway?

Hours pass of me staring at my computer screen. I survive the day on a bag of cheetos and soda.  People have knocked on the front door, expecting me to get up, walk downstairs and open. Ugh, no. I am home alone and I'm sure as hell going to enjoy it. No, it is not about Si- don't mention him.
A faint knock is heard from downstairs. Eh, they'll go away in a while.

A minute or two pass without the knocks stopping.

"Martiin..! Martin..! Martin!!" Oh. Oh no, please.

( I WILL CONTINUE SOON IT US JUST V LATE OOP OOP I AM SORRY PLS GIVE SUGGESTIONS??????????????????)