Positively Negative [Rewrite]

Nov05: Three Little Birds, Don't Worry

Chapter Three: Three Little Birds told me Don't Worry

FREDDIE

I could not believe she had shouted that. Screamed it for the whole class to hear. For them to all know and do with the information – my own fucking personal and private damn life – what they would.

I was sitting in the foyer whilst a group of admin teachers and Mrs. White spoke in low tones. It was so obviously about whether they should punish me. Whether that would throw me more off axis. As if. I'd already been flung off, and was drifting somewhere in outer-space – fuck, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't fucking breathe—

I jumped off my chair ran out of the school entrance, only managing to turn quickly to a corner before I emptied my stomach, collapsing onto my knees. I attempted to stand shakily before I felt myself being helped up and lead back inside, but I fought the aid. I shook them off me and told them I'd go home alone. Why would I wait for my mother to come and pick me up just so that I could sit in the car and endure more breathless silence? More pain simmering just below the surface...?

I needed fresh air. And I told them that clearly. When they still refused to listen, I got violent, and rude, and I just didn't care anymore.

They allowed me to leave with a hesitant warning that I'd be receiving a detention (due to my unacceptable use of language) when I returned, and a call home.

Yes. A call home, for condolences.

:

Sherry said she'd said it so everyone would stop. So that I would stop, and wouldn't regret my actions.

What regret?

Hartman had been taken to hospital anyway. Should have hit him more—harder, longer, fuck! No matter what his last name suggested, he didn't have a heart. No soul to speak of. He'd heard and even after that.. Even after that.

He didn't have a heart.

As I stumbled, I could feel my skin, my wrists, itching, my fingers numbing, and I knew it was a bad sign. I knew, too, that I wouldn't be able to resist. I didn't want to. I wanted numb and I wanted hurting. I wanted alcohol and sleep and dreamless darkness.

:

JOEY

I woke up in dulled pain to see my mum fidgeting with a set of keys, face aged with concern, and a kid next to her with a magazine she was reading covering her face.

I was in hospital.

"Mum." Immediately, she looked up at me and stood, but froze like so, and then the kid sat next to her allowed the magazine to fall and I grinned so widely that my bruised cheeks ached. "Charlotte!" She stepped towards me, laughing out and calling my name as she took hold of the hand I offered.

"Sandy said you got into a fight."

I looked at my mum and felt dread and regret gather. I could see disappointment, and concern, but she was trying to smile despite it all. "You've got concussion and some bruises here and there, but you'll survive."

I squeezed my eyes tight briefly, lifted a hand to run through my hair and began to apologise, but she shook her head and smiled brighter, blinking tears away.

"It's fine, it's fine. I'm just glad you're okay, generally speaking." Charlotte looked up at her, and mum placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in. "You're staying home for the next couple of days, though. Then you can have a long weekend in. We're going to have to move your party to next Friday, I think."