Well hello kiddies. I'm baaaack
What I mean is: HereisatotallyradandkickassfanfictionfromKaitlynAGAIN
I know i know you're all like "She said the 25th and August 1st WHY CAN'T SHE MAKE UP HER MIND?!" You know what?
This fanfic is gonna be totally awesome, i have put A LOT of thought and editing into it. I don't edit anything really well but guess what? I want this to be amazing! So that's how it's gonna go. K? It's all from Josh's prospective, so don't even ask... HERE WE GO (Also, i'd like to put a trigger warning and also let you know about swearing. There's a lot in this chapter)
"I never took you for a trick but sometimes
I don't know what you want
I can take it if you need to take this out on someone
That little bitch with her head held so high
Talking shit when I
Cut myself so I can feel something I know is not a lie"
-Say Anything, Marianas Trench
----
I press the blade to my wrist once again. I can't see or hear anything other than my moans of relief.
The blood trickles from the fresh cuts. I press my back against the wall and slide down. When I finally decide to stand up I walk to the large mirror on the wall. I've changed. I've lost about 40 pounds over the past month. Of course not by some shitty diet trick or something.
I don't eat, and when I do I force it back up. My wrists are covered in cuts, some fresh, some... Not so much. My shaggy brown hair hangs in front of my blue eyes and my lips remain pressed together forming a tight bright pink an white line. My eyes are always red and dry from the heroin. Perfect.
"I have died everyday waiting for you" I whisper to myself. Looking again, I pull off my Pink Floyd shirt and examine myself. My ribs are visible through my skin. "Thin, where the hell have you been?" I breath. I peel off my jeans and step on the scale.
135.
135 pounds at 6'2.
Perfect.
I turn on the water and feel the warmth beat down on my bare skin. As I step in the shower my mom, Corlynn comes in.
"JOSHUA KEELER RAMSAY WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" she screams looking directly at my wrist.
Shitshitshit. Clearly I didn't lock the damn door.
"M-mom" I whimper. I know I've been caught. Despair lingers in my words.
"Get dressed right now young man" she says, tears well up in the rims of her eyes. I go hot.
"Why should I?" I snap.
"What did you just say?"
"Why? Why the actual fuck should I listen to you?" This is really hard for me to do, I never thought I would do this to my mom.
"Joshua Keeler Ramsay" she says in a threatening tone. However my mother isn't very intimidating at my height of 6'2. I look down on her. At this point she looks so hurt I can hardly bare to look at her. Arms crossed she looks up at me. I flick my neck so my hair flutters off to the left.
"You get your ass upstairs" she demands thrusting a shirt and pants at me. I take them, sigh and get dressed. She disappears and then as soon as I was sure she was gone she reappeared at the door. Holding bandages.
"Here, over your cuts. I don't want to see them" she says setting them on the counter. In 10 minutes I was dressed, I had cleaned my cuts, bandaged them, put all my needles and heroin away and gone upstairs, tears stinging my eyes Corlynn and Miles; my dad. Were mumbling about something.
When I entered my dad's eyes never left mine as I sat across from them in a large wooden chair. When I ease myself into it my dad finally clears his throat.
"What were you thinking?" he asks.
"I was thinking it was a way out." I snap.
"Josh... You know we're always here for you" My mom pleads.
"Yeah, of course I know that" I drone sarcastically. I stand up and head back to the basement.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" My sister Sara emerges from the basement.
"Move" I snap
"Like hell" she says. She shoves me toward the living room.
"You need help" Miles demands.
"N-no I don't. I'm fine, I swear!" I cry out like a little kid.
"Joshua Ramsay if you don't get help then you need to get out of this house" Miles says "I'm sorry but I love you too much to have to go to Rehab"
"Fuck that" I practically scream.
"LANGUAGE" Corlynn exclaims. Her eyes are brimmed with tears and her face is solid red.
You're worried about language? How come Sara never gets in shit when she swears?
"I will say whatever the fuck I want. Fuck, fuck, FUCK" I scream at the top of my lungs
"Lord help us" Sara mutters from the couch across the room. I dig my feet into the white carpet of 1712 Acadia Road, with little thought I stomp downstairs into my room and grab fistfuls of the first clothes I see. I shove them into duffle bags and carry them upstairs.
"Joshua Keeler Ramsay where in the hell do you think you're going" Sara cries grabbing my arms.
"Away. I'm not going to rehab" I snap.
"Fine, Josh be like that. Get out of the house we don't want a drug addict here. Find somewhere else to live until you get clean" My mom cries with bitterness lingering in her usually cheery tone. Tears trickle down her face.
"Fine" I snap, I slam the door behind me as I walk out of 1712.
My new life... Is here.
