Whats Your Ship?-Shoey Fanfic

Chapter 6-Worried

Joey's POV

I woke up a bit earlier than expected, especially for a hangover. It was about 9am and Luke was still asleep. I needed to get a ride before he woke up. I didn’t want him to know that I was still here. I called Sawyer, no answer. I called Shane, no answer. I called Tyler, no answer. Everyone I tried to call wouldn't pick up. I didn’t know what to do. I could hear Luke getting up. I panicked and quickly left the house, making as little noise as possible. I knew my way back from his house but it was far. Talk about 15 miles far. It didn’t sound far, but on foot, it would take forever. I couldn't hail down a taxi because I was broke. So I did what I had to do, walk home. Every step I took hurt. I was having a major headache, my body hurt from walking, and I was literally about to puke on the sidewalk. Every car honking made me go crazy. I was in so much pain, I was about to give up. Come on Joey, just another mile. I forced myself to keep walking and I made it home. It only took 4 hours but I finally made it back to my sweet bed. I fell asleep for only about another 3 hours because the need to puke took over. I looked over and checked my phone. '3 missed calls, 18 text messages, and 2 voicemails. I got most of the messages and phone calls from Shane. He said he was really worried about me so of course I texted him first. 

I finally put my phone down after replying to all of my friends and picked up my laptop. I checked out my new video and all of the comments. I saw some nice comments, some that made me laugh. I kept looking and I found 'those' comments. 

'You're an ugly, stupid, fag. I hope you die'

'you're such a fag'

'go kill yourself'

Comment after comment; it tore me down little by little. I couldn’t help but keep reading. I knew that this would make me upset but I couldn’t help it. I wish they were wrong but they weren’t. They were 100% right and I knew it. As I kept reading, the comments got worse, and so did I. I wanted to relive myself from the pain. I wanted to be able to feel something else beside hurt and alone. I walked over to the bathroom, moved aside the medicine and pulled out the razor. I sat myself on the floor against the cabinets below the sink. I moved my bracelets out of the way and looked at all of my old cuts. I turned the blade sideways and moved it across my wrist, not to make any cuts, but to get ready for the feeling. I picked up the blade and slid it across my wrist; the sharpest side facing down making sure it would cut skin. I had internally craved this type of feeling. People don’t get that cutting is an addiction; once you start you're basically screwed. 1,2,3,4 times. Marks were made all over my wrists and I started bleeding really heavily as more marks were added on. I grabbed the cloth in order to try and stop the bleeding. This time was successful. I had cleaned out my cuts, which hurt like a bitch, but I made sure that I didn’t get an infection. I slowly placed the bracelets over the cuts once again and made my way back to the bed. I checked my phone and I had a text from Shane.

Text:

"Joey? Why aren’t you answering me?"

"I was just doing something." I replied

"Like what?" Shane was starting to get suspicious. I needed to tell a lie that he would believe. 

"Oh, I was just putting my stuff away." It took minutes for Shane to respond but it looked like he bought it.

"What are you doing today? Wanna hang?" he questioned.

"Yeah, sure. Name a time and place and I’ll be there"

"Movies, 6:30"

"kk, I'll be there.". I set my phone down and went to go and get ready. Shower, done. Clothes, done. Hair, done. I was ready and it was around 6:00. My hangovers usually last days but this day, it went away pretty quickly. Within minutes I heard the doorbell. It was Shane; why is he early?