Suburbs Boy

7 - #RealitySucks

Suburbs Boy knew that Trisha was going to leave him. He just felt it. He had even voiced his thoughts to Trisha while he brushed her hair on her white sofa. 

"What are you talking about?" She had simply said before getting up and kissing him: "Don't act all thoughtful around me, Suburbs Boy."

At that moment, he had wanted to sow her mouth shut. Just the day before he had voiced his thoughts on that nickname.

"It degrades me." He had said: "It gives off the aura that I'm a spoiled brat who doesn't care about anything but myself. I hate it and I hate the people who use it."

"Suburbs Boy." She had replied.

And he had laughed.

He had laughed because he did not want her to think he did not want her. He had laughed because he had felt like he could put anything aside for her. 

She was his everything.

And yet he knew that they had only been together for a week now. He thought they were moving too fast and he had voiced his thoughts to her.

"You need to relax, Chad." She had raised her blue haired head (she had dyed it) from the loveseat she was laying on and looked at him: "You're so paranoid about everything. We haven't moved too fast because we haven't reached any checkpoints yet." 

Then she lay back down on the loveseat and continued to watch Deadpool.

He had stared at her and he realized with a sickening that he urged to rip that pretty throats of hers out. And that scared him because he felt immune to feelings. To love. Because he couldn't be loved. He had gone home that day and tore his room apart repeatedly before he realized he had to go back to seeing a shrink. 

He had sat in the therapists office the next day, feeling and urgent want to go to sleep.

"Do you think you are depressed, Chad?" The therapist had asked him, scribbling things down with her perfectly manicured hands on her white clipboard.

"No. I don't even think I'm sad." He had falsely claimed, having already guessed what she was going to say.

She looked at him with her expensive blue glasses and pursed her black lipstick made-up lips together and said: "I think you are depressed Chad. I'm going to give you a week to think about all of this before I report you to a doctor. Is that all right?"

He had walked out of her office.

It was already 3 days out of the 7 days of the week the therapist had handed him before he had to take what Trisha called happy pills. He thought back to the conversation they had had while he ran his fingers through his girlfriend's hair.

"Depressed? She said you were depressed?" Trisha had scoffed as if she couldn't believe it.

"Yes." He had replied, standing at her desk while she lay on her bed.

"That chick doesn't know what depressed is." She had lay on her bed for a few seconds before she spoke again: "Nicole was depressed once."

And once again the conversation was back to Nicole. Chad felt like that was all they talked about in their entire relationship and when he had voiced his thoughts to her she had gotten annoyed.

"You rarely have anything to say and when I try to make conversation you judge what it's about?" She had yelled at him.

"I just think the topic could be off her for at least a while." He had stood at the door as she had thrown one of her snow globes at him.

He thought back to the first day she had gotten angry at him. He had been at football practice for the first time in a while so he had gotten to her house late. She had given him the silent treatment for half the time.

"You're being unreasonable." He had told her before he had walked out.

And after all that, he was still here, sitting down on her sofa, stroking her hair.

He stared into her blue eyes (contacts) and then let his eyes travel down to her botoxed lips that looked full and pink and something just snapped in him. She was just so...

...fake.

She rolled over so she was facing him and began to use her phone. After hearing the sound of tap-tap-tapping for over 10 seconds, Chad gently pushed her off him and walked out of the room, almost certain that she wasn't aware he was gone. 

●●●

He walked down the street slowly and then called for an uber cab which picked him up in a blue chevy and drove him to his shrink's office. He walked inside the room as she was with another patient and stood at the door, taking in the dark purpleness of the room and the scent of the white carpet spread on the ground. He listened to their conversation.

"I'm telling you, my husband is an actual pig!" The woman yelled and then became suddenly quiet again.

Before the therapist or patient noticed him, he slid out of the room.

He walked on the road for a few hours before he stopped at a building which interested him. The building looked like it was built with wood over 70 years ago because pieces have begun to fall out. THE HOME FOR KIDS WITH NO HOME was printed boldly on  a banner hung out from the two top windows. The place looked like an epic mess.

When Chad first entered the home, the strong smell of onions hit him hard and he began to wheeze and cough. He was standing in a sort of lobby in which they ground was full of different types of dirt and the walls were peeling in different places.

"Why, hello." A woman dressed in a nun's outfit came out from a door he hadn't noticed before at the end of one side of the lobby - like place. 

A bulb flickered above his head.

"Hello." He didn't know why he was here, he didn't know why he was speaking, but he felt like there was something for him here.

"Are you adopting?" The nun walked to him and smiled. She was an oldish woman with a wrinkled face and grey hair in which strands of it fell in front of her face through the nun's cap.

"Um.. no. I'm donating." He said, looking round warily as if he was expecting a rat to jump out at him from the shadows.

"Oh, thank you young man!" The nun took his hands in hers'. She closed her eyes and mouthed some words before dropping his hand and drawing a cross over her heart. He brought out his check book and assigned a check of 160,000 dollars to the home before handing it to her: "Oh thank you so much! May the good lord bless you." She began to cry: "Do you want to see the children?"

He didn't know why he nodded.

She took him to a room that looked more like a long corridor. On each end of the room there were two desk lamps that lay on the ground, dim. They were beds with nothing but mattresses on them lined up on the sides of the room. There were four children at each dingy bed and as he passed them, they all stared up at him with wide hollow eyes that seemed to look into his soul and take his secrets away from him. 

The children gave him some sort of feeling of uselessness. There were children living like this or in even worse conditions around the world and all he was thinking about was wether or not his girlfriend liked him.

He was a terrible person.

A terrible, horrible, Suburbs Boy.

And as he walked past all those children, he let his mind stray to hashtags. 

And the perfect one popped up...

...#RealitySucks