The Beginning of the End (Editing)

Nine - Call 911

It seems as though canned-heat has been my best friend lately. I think it keeps me sane, to say the least. I don't really know if its a good thing or a bad thing, but the burn is surely incredible. If my mind wasn't so buzzy right now, I definitely wouldn't be here. I don't even know why I chose to come.

Lochie, of all the people in the world, happened to stumble upon me. On my knees. In the rain. Crying. No wonder he thinks I'm a fucking pussy, I am a fucking pussy. I'd beat myself senseless too if I saw me crying in the rain about a girl that couldn't give two shits about me.

"Why can't you answer me, why the fuck were you out in the rain?" He mutters, taking a sip from his cup of whatever this gorgeous whiskey is. It's great, better than the usual. Well, the whiskey I've had. Dad bought me a bottle as some sort of bullshit 'coming of age' thing. He told me that he bought it especially for  me. I think he just pulled it out of the cupboard that he hasn't touched for years, the old cupboard he would seek refuge in almost every night. Bullshit.

"Like I said before, you don't give two fucks about why I was out there," I spit through gritted teeth, swirling my cup around. He's been trying to talk to me for the past ten minutes, or longer. I don't know, my head is too fogged to know. He should know that he won't get jack shit from me. "You'll just tell every other asshole and will have them throw me into the wall for it, right?"

"No Kyle, I wouldn't do tha-"

"Don't say that.. Don't even carry on with that sentence because you really don't give a fuck about anyone but your-fucking-self!" I yell, pushing myself out of my seat and onto the ground. Fuck that hurts, why the hell did I do that? I hear Lochie, chuckling. Fucking smart ass. "Why the fuck are you laughing! The least you could do is help me?"

"I'm laughing because you're a bit of a lightweight, Thomson," He says as I sit myself back up, my knees wobbling to the slightest degree. "Also because you're jumping to conclusions. I care about Eleanor, and that's why I bought you here." He replies coolly, taking another slow sip from the crystal glass.

How does his so called 'care' link to Eleanor? I don't even think he knows the definition of care, and if he does I don't know if he knows how to devote his care to people other than himself. Ass.

"Before you say anything, Eleanor cares about you, doesn't she? She talks about you often, so I feel like I should respect that," He places his cup to the side, clean and polished empty. "I know we've never been on the best of terms Kyle, but I really want to call a truce here." The tone of his voice is making me uncomfortable as he offers his hand across the glass table. I look through and his fingers aren't crossed in his lap. Could it be that Lochie is being, nice?

"Why should I believe you?" I growl, chugging the remainder of the contents of this tall, slender glass down.

"Because I really think I lo-"

With that I stand up, picking up the glass and throwing it across the room. The sight of his glass, something of his, shattering into a million pieces sends the sensation of satisfaction and adrenaline coursing through my veins. The slightest sense of revenge is leaving a smirk on my face. When I return my gaze towards Lochie, the look on his face is priceless. His mouth is wide open, just like his dull black eyes.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" He yells, gesturing with his hands across the room to the mess he's going to have to clean. I begin chuckling at the thought of this cock-block cleaning up after me for a change.

"I don't know, Lochie. It's not often that I get to destroy something of yours, much like you're destroying Eleanor. If you loved her, she'd know it. But hell, she's come to me in tears because you fail to make her feel like the fucking queen that she is, okay?" I growl again, walking around the table and lifting him by the collar of his shirt against the wall.

"If you loved her, she'd know it," I repeat, nailing it not only into his mind but also mine.

If you loved her, she'd know it.

I look up at Lochie again, and for the first time in forever he looks scared. I mentally laugh, dropping him to the ground. He is pathetic, I am pathetic. We're both as pathetic as one another. If you loved her, then she'd know it.

"Don't forget it" I sternly tell him. Myself as well. If you loved her, then she'd know it. I shake away the words before turning around and grabbing his three quarter full bottle of whiskey. Is a beautiful bottle of whiskey, why would I let it go to waste.

If you loved her, then she'd know it. Get the fuck out of my head, fuck off. If you loved her, then she'd know it.

Before I know it, toxic brown liquor is in puddles on the floor with more shards of glass, with more of my anger. My breathing is heavy and suddenly there is a heavy pounding in my head. I blink once and the images are there. I blink twice and the images are closer, real. I try keeping my eyes open, and the images are still there. Two dark silhouettes, one kneeling in the shards and liquor and the other crying in the corner of the old home.

My hands find themselves in my hair, pulling at it hard enough that I can feel a tingling sensation course through me. I squint my eyes closed and try to keep them that way. Its not real. I fall to my knees and feel fragments of glass pierce the skin of my knees. I feel myself yell, but I can't hear anything other than the voices in my head.

It's real. Believe it. It's not real. It's your fault Kyle. The problem is you. Not them. She's temporary. They're not friends. Your not what they wanted.

I feel myself yell again and my eyes dart open, searching the room. The walls are white. The table is made of glass. That apple is red and the other is green. Lochie is close.

He yells at me. I can barely hear him over the voices, they're so loud. His voice processes as a mumble once more, what is he saying? I look down to the ground and notice my hands covered in crimson paint. I see shards too, thousands of shards of beautifully sharp glass tainted in that crimson paint that is the blood from my knees and my hands.

"Lochie? What's up? Are you oka-" My attention is drawn to that familiar voice. Her familiar voice. I look back down to the ground. Fuck her. A voice screams. She doesn't love you. "Kyle!" She yells, rushing to my side. "Are you okay? Kyle? Can you hear me?" She pushes, shaking my shoulders as if she's trying to wake me up.

"Kyle?" She pleads. Her voice is clear as day in comparison to Lochies. Its beautiful, hearing voices that aren't inside your head. She doesn't love you. I feel myself shaking now, I can see my hands shaking. They're almost entirely red with blood, I smirk at the sight.

"Lochie, call 911," She asks with urgency in her voice. Hah, she doesn't care. Why should she care? She doesn't love you. "Fuck, not again." She murmurs, shaking me again.

I feel the yelling again, the screaming and the torture. I can't hear it, but I can feel it. My eyes are glued tightly shut, avoiding the world around me. Especially that girl that doesn't give a shit about you right?

The devil makes its way into the dark swirls in my head, torturing me with fiery words that are leaving me burnt. But with one last sensation of feeling the scream but not hearing it, he guides me into the darkness that I've been craving since today turned upside down. With final words, he chuckles in his deep growling voice, If you loved her, then she'd know it.

Authors Note
EEEEEP WE'RE ALMOST TO WHERE I WANT IT TO BE EEEEEP.

Okay and also... ANNA FUCKING TODD VOTED FOR THIS STORY LIKE WHAT ???? I LOST MY FUCKING SHIT SO S/O TO HER. But in all seriousness, if it wasn't for her I don't think I'd be writing :) So really, I owe her so much and more.

Okay, so if you liked this please do me the honour of commenting your feedback, asking me questions, vote and even share if you like it enough! Every little bit helps :) Thanks again! All the luh x