The New National Anthem (Vic Fuentes fanfic)

Happiness

KATRINA'S POV

It's been a month. Everyday is filled with beatings, much worse than the foster home I grew up in. I also haven't eaten in about a month. Once in a while I'd be able to sneak a piece of bread of whatever out of the kitchen, but then quickly vomit it back up because my stomach was so used to be empty.

This was truly hell. More and more cuts lined my arms now, thanks to a dangerous mind, shards of broken bottles everywhere and the tiny blade hidden in my shoe. Everyday I waited for dad to come, but he never did. I waited for him to burst in the door and save me, but no such event occurred.

With every sound I heard echo from the kitchen, I pressed myself more into the corner of "my" room. Everything fucking hurt, even with no physical damage done. An eerie silence proceeded and I trembled. I couldn't take it anymore. I wouldn't say I had a perfectly stable state of mind before, but now I was insane. Small hallucinations kept me on edge, whether it was sounds I thought I heard or moving in the corners of my eyes.

Squeezing my eyes together tightly, I tried to remember what happiness felt like. My 16th birthday made me happy. Art made me happy. Playing video games with Mike made me happy. Spending time with dad made me happy. But here...I was unhappy, no doubt.

My imagination takes off again, and I started pondering that emotion. Happiness. For starters, what really was it? Maybe it didn't exist, and was only the absence of sadness. But it could be the other way around, and that's all there was.

Early in life, I had come to the conclusion that happiness was the point of life. Whether there was only sadness and lack of it, or the opposite, the only objective was to position yourself so you are the happiest. So what I smoked and drank? It made me happy and helped me deal. If others didn't like that, well, fuck it. I'm not them and they're not me.

Sighing softly, I picked up my small knife. The whole blade was only about 2 inches long, but it did it's job. This was it. I was sad and alone. The goal I had set for myself in life wasn't being fulfilled, but it was time to change that.

God, with the weapon in my hard and ready to strike, it was all so real. I'd attempted this multiple times earlier, but this time I wasn't bullshitting it. No half-assing this, I couldn't fuck it up.

I was ready. A piece of paper next to me, if anyone ever found me. Well, other than my mother. I felt nauseous even thinking about her. She ruined everything. I was finally happy, but she put out the spark.

What the hell are you waiting for?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

One deep breath, possibly my last, and I was dragging the blade vertically down my arm. My weak arms trembled slightly from the amount of pressure and old scars were splitting open. Blood was everywhere, the crimson liquid I was so familiar and obsessed with. I held my arm out I front of me, and blood fell onto the dirty carpet with a pitter-patter sound like rain. I felt extremely lightheaded and drowsy.

So this was it. Dying. Suicide, to be exact.

Black everywhere.

Black, like I always believed my soul to be.

Black, the color I lined my pain-filled eyes with.

But most importantly, it was black, the only existence I had now.

VIC'S POV (A BIT EARLIER)

"That's it" I hung up my phone for the final time, stood up from the couch and marched back to the bunks

Quickly I stuffed some clothes and money in a backpack and tugged on a pair of random vans. I'd been calling and texting Katrina for a month with no response. I'd also managed to get Ashley's number, but with no answer as well. Something was wrong and I was going to find out what it was.

"Vic, wait" turning around, I saw to rest of the band, probably ready to convince me to not go

"No I have to-"

"Give us 1 minute" Mike said, going to pack a bag as well with Tony and Jaime

I impatiently waited while they all tossed together shit and got ready. Spinning on my heel, I walked out the bus door with them close behind me. Our tour manager noticed us leaving with bags and confusedly came up.

"Where are yo-"

"Airport"

"But you can't just leave!"

"I don't care"

I was short-tempered, totally unlike me. But I could be halfway to California now, goddammit. Mike pointed to the few cars in the group of large buses. Going over to one with a guy leaning against it, I tapped his shoulder.

"Can you drive us to the nearest airport?"

"Uh, yeah I guess. I have no idea where it is, you're gonna have to look it up."

Jaime whipped out his iphone, typing like crazy until he got what he wanted and them showing it to him. He nodded and we all silently climbed in the car, which was a bit of a tight fit but nobody mentioned it.

No words were spoken until we arrived. Everyone piled out and I turned back to the guy who drove us.

"Thanks, man"

"No problem"

With one final glance he drove off, leaving us to go buy tickets for the soonest flight to San Francisco.

A/N: please excuse any errors or whatever, I just wanted to get the chapter up as soon as possible