The Drummer's Boy

Chapter 21. Baby Don't Cut

***WARNING: DO NOT PROCEED TO READ THIS CHAPTER IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED BY CUTTING. THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES SELF HARM. PROCEED TO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THIS BOOK IS FOR THE MATURE ONLY. THEREFORE, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.***

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Over the past few weeks, nothing seriously alarming popped out at Jon. George seemed to be perfectly fine. Until today.

Jon & Barbara were in the kitchen, preparing lunch, when all over a sudden a very loud "BANG!" forced them to stop in their tracks.

Barbara turned to Jon, her face filled with horror. "What the hell was that?!"

Jon didn't have time to answer her question. He ran straight to the room where he heard the loud noise. Barbara was close on his heels.

They arrived at the room & froze. The bathroom mirror was smashed. Tiny pieces of glass was scattered all over the floor. The sight of the mirror wasn't the only frightening thing.

Barbara stared in horror at George. He was sitting on the ground next to the mirror, his knees hugged to his chest tightly. He was staring at absolutely nothing.

Jon quickly made his way over to George's side. Carefully avoiding stepping on the tiny bits of glass that would surely cut his foot.

Jon pulled George into an embrace. He went to hug him but George shrieked in pain. Jon let go of George & tried to figure out what was wrong. "Are you okay?"

George nodded, cradling his arm. "I'm fine. I just got angry & punched the mirror."

Barbara averted her eyes & frantically shook her head. She pointed at the piece of glass next to George. "No, he's not fine. He didn't just punch the mirror, he cut himself with that shard of glass!"

Jon found what she was pointing at & picked it up to examine it. He shoved it in George's face. "Did you cut yourself with this?" He tried to remain calm, for George's sake.

George was quick to shake his head. "No! I wouldn't! I'm a drug addict! That doesn't make me suicidal!"

Barbara leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. "You could be both. Who knows."

George turned his gaze on her. "Shut the fuck up! Nobody asked you your opinion in the matter!" He spat.

Jon wrapped his arms around George's waist. "It's okay. Don't be mad at her. She just wants to help."

George rolled his eyes. "Help my ass. She only knows that if she helps me, she might get a chance to sleep with you."

Barbara flipped him off. "Oh fuck off." She walked out & made her way down the hall.

Jon pulled George closer to him. "Why did you do it?"

George rested his head on Jon's shoulder. "I didn't do anything."

Jon took George's face in his hands to look up at him. "You know what I mean. Why did you cut yourself? You can't fool me George. I know you did it."

George remained silent. In fact, he chose actions over words. He leaned in closer to Jon & kissed him full on the lips. At first, it was just a simple, sweet kiss. Until it turned into much more. George thrusted his tongue into Jon's mouth. He moaned in pleasure. Jon pulled George closer until their bodies were touching.

George reached for Jon's shirt to lift it up. As he did so, he reached behind Jon to pick up the razor that neither Jon nor Barbara paid any attention to. Jon was so caught up in the moment he never expected George to do what he did.

George picked up the razor & clutched it in his hand, while still kissing Jon. He smirked to himself. Damn he was a fucking mastermind.

George pulled away from Jon after a minute or so. Jon closed his eyes, catching his breath. George found this the perfect time to whip out the razor, so he did.

George scooted away from Jon & used the razor to slash his wrists. Each delicate cut he made eased the pain he was feeling deep inside.

They won't give me what they want. I want drugs. No, I NEED drugs. They'll either deal with me cutting or deal with me overdosing. Either way, I'm just going to die anyways. But cutting will increase the chances. At least overdosing killed you slowly. Well, that depends. Anyways, long story short, I'm fucked.

George was about to move onto the next wrist when Jon finally snapped back into reality. He ran over to George & snatched the razor from his hands. "What the fuck do you think your doing?!" He shouted. This caused Barbara to run back into the bathroom, mouth gaping in horror. And she thought that the first time was bad.

George shrugged. He tried to scoot past Jon but he didn't get far. He grabbed his bleeding wrist & held it up to his chest. "Baby don't you ever cut again! I know going without drugs is hard but please for the sake of me, try to push through this! I know you can do it, you just have to try!" He looked down at the blood-stained wrist. "But this, this is not going to help you. So don't FUCKING do it again!"

George snatched his arm away from Jon's grasp. "Don't scold me like I'm a child! I am a 20 year old man, perfectly capable of making my own decisions! If I cut, I cut. If I use drugs, I use drugs. This is my life & I'll do as I please!"

Jon held his face in his hands & shook his head. He let out a long breath. "Your making all the wrong decisions. I just want to help you get better." He licked his lips. He suddenly looked up at George. "Paint your lips red, not your wrists."

George refused to look at Jon. Hell, he would rather look at Barbara than Jon. That's exactly what he did. He saw lots of emotion inside her eyes. He knew she was worried, confused, desperate, heartbroken, & powerless.

Just for the moment, he felt a little bit sorry for her.

I mean, of course I should be. I stole Jon away from her, they WERE together first. Now she has to help Jon with me because I'm a stubborn little bitch who refuses to take anyone's advice because I'm so fucked up.

George smiled weakly.

Isn't that fucking pathetic? Here I was thinking that I didn't have ANY drugs at all. Well, it is true that I'm addicted to cocaine & heroin. But the thing that I'm most addicted to is love. Love drove me to using drugs. Love drove me to paint my wrists.

I love Jon so fucking much, that I didn't realize that it wasn't HIS fault that I fucked myself over by using drugs. It was my fault. Here I was blaming that son of a bitch when I should be blaming myself.

I fell in love, & it led me here. I finally realize why people don't want to fall in love. They are afraid of losing the one they love, they are afraid of having to wake up in this world alone. Because when you lose the one you love, you lose yourself. You do stupid shit that you'll probably end up regretting. Like me.

George closed his eyes & laid down on the floor. For a split second, he couldn't feel anything. It was amazing, because he didn't want to feel.

He didn't want to feel love, or hatred, or guilty, or sad, or pissed off. He just, simply, didn't want to feel at all. If he could shut his humanity off, he would. That way he couldn't hurt or be hurt by someone.

That way, he couldn't love or be loved by someone.