The Girl With The Yellow Umbrella

n i n e

October 15th, 2006
Jason

A piece of meat.

A nothing.

I feel so...so unright. I know that isn't a word, I know it doesn't make any sense but that's how I feel. I don't feel like this is my place, like this is where I belong. No matter how conceited that sounds. I feel wrong, I feel like a colorless ball in a box of red balls.

That was the worst metaphor ever used in the history of time but let's be honest-I'm not some poetic guy that can detail his feelings like a Nicholas Sparks book.

I just feel so fucking useless, I can't even take control of my own life.

The party was at its high, everyone drinking and laughing and sort of getting laid. But, I was just sitting there. On this old, beaten, blue couch in a room while time seemed to move fast. People stumbled, threw up, got wasted, and were making out. And it all seemed to happen so quickly.

"Baby!" Victoria yelled cheerfully before falling right on top of my lap. Victoria-as in the girl that I slept with, the girl that I didn't even know the name of the first time I met her but Troy forced me to get to know her. I can't believe that was so long ago; it's senior year now.

"Oh...hey," I said, not amused. I never wanted to he here. I didn't like this place at all and here I was, still stuck somewhere between existing and living.

She started mindlessly poking my cheek which annoyed the hell out of me and she was obviously intoxicated. "Have fun, Jasy!" Victoria yelled once more and put her hands in the air.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" I asked angrily and shoved her off my lap. I felt so lost here, all I wanted to do was be with him.

"I can call you whatever I want to," she slurred and started to scoot closer to me. "I'm your girlfriend, remember?"

"Whatever," I mumbled and got off the blue couch that I seemed to be in for hours. She was just laying there, like a homeless drunk person with no one to guide her, and I felt sorta bad for her. No one is born like this, no one just becomes this way for no reason.

"Jasy!" She whined and tried to pout. But the only thing she looked like was a slut and she was and to be completely honest, I didn't care why. I didn't want to know her life story, I don't want to be with her, and I don't like her.

"I'm leaving."

"But this is my party and you're my boyfriend so you have to stay!" She cried out like a little baby. God, I hated her. I hated her so fùcking much. I never knew I could have this much hatred over someone.

I wanted to leave, I needed to leave like I needed the very oxygen to breathe. But my mind kept repeating over and over again what they would say. What my friends would say. What Troy would say.

"You need a girlfriend or everyone will think there's something wrong with you."

"What are you, gay?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Stay with her."

"Don't make us fùcking look bad."

"Is that what you want, for everyone to think that you're some type of faggot."

"Fine, I'll stay." I started to breathe heavily, like I couldn't breathe anymore. Like this elephant was placed on my chest and I couldn't take it anymore. The music blasting started to beat down my ear drums, everyone's voices starting to mute out. I felt suffocated, like I was dying.

I quickly stumbled up the stairs, my vision slowly blurring as I held onto my chest for dear life. I opened a random door, just needing to be alone. I needed to escape before I start to have some type of attack. When I finally entered, a girl was sat on the sink counter while a guy was sucking her face off. I couldn't really see much but her dark legs kicking around and her pleading for him to stop.

Without really thinking, I shoved the random drunken man so hard that he nearly fell onto the bathtub. Before I could even help the girl, she had ran off. Leaving the bathroom in a hurry with me stuck in a room with some perv.

The guy started to get back up and I swear I was about to punch him, but I just didn't have the energy to anymore. He ran out of the bathroom as well and finally, I was alone. I laid my hands against each side of the sink counter and I started to breathe in and out heavily. Trying to calm myself down.

1

2

3

Breathe.

I turned the faucet on and splashed some water on my burning hot face. I was just trying to cool myself down but it didn't seem to work. I looked up at myself in the mirror above the bathroom sink and when I saw only my face staring back, for some reason, all I could see was a coward. I was too different, I was too weird, I would have to live this pain all of my life because I am who I am.

The mirror tells me I'm a freak. That it's all because of me. It's my fault. Why am I like this?

Before I could really have any control, my right hand turned into a fist and I suddenly punched the bathroom mirror. I could feel the sharp sting of the glass ripping through my skin. But then it almost felt numb to me because all I could see, all I could think of was red. The undying pain of blood trickle down my hand hadn't came to my senses.

The broken mirror was a broken fragmentation of me, and I hated it. I loathe that I'm so messed up, I'm so unnatural, that I'm not the same and that no one can really help me.

I like guys...

More than like. And everyone thinks it's so crazy and maybe it is. Maybe I was born the wrong way, or I am an evil devil worshiper, or a fucking gay spider bit me. But, it isn't like that, it doesn't feel like that.

I looked at the broken mirror once more before lightly slapping my face. "Calm down. Just do this. Be like everyone else," I whispered to myself. I dusted off my shirt and washed my hand. Then I left the bathroom.

Like nothing ever happened.