The Langdon Crew (ON HOLD)

Chapter 3

Acer

God can be unfair sometimes.

Mom always tells me not to say that because I’ll probably be cursed or He’ll smite me with lightning or whatever. But that doesn’t mean that I can just stop thinking it.

God can be unfair sometimes, especially to me. I mean, I’ve been praying to die ever since I was about thirteen, but now I’m pushing eighteen and I’m still breathing. I also prayed to have control of my stomach and bladder, but I already puked all over the nurse’s shoes before they knocked me out.

Mom explained that some of the things I prayed for probably weren’t part of God’s plan, but I still think she’s a liar. Everybody dies in the end, so what’s wrong with me wanting to start early? It isn’t as if I’ll make some kind of mark on the world or something.

I’m not on the right team.

“Hey, look who finally woke up!” a nurse says, entering the room with a blood pressure machine. Cam had abandoned the chair beside my bed for his own, thumbs flying over the controller as he shoots zombies dead on the small television.

We hadn’t talked much. I think he finally gets the point that I am not going to say more than I have to. Unlike the other kids, I know he doesn’t think I hate him or anything. It’s obvious because occasionally I will find those green eyes glancing over at me, giving me that same stupid smirk every time I catch them.

I really don’t hate him. He’s different and I like that. Different is what I need.

“We just got your parents to leave, man,” the nurse continues, pushing the chair over to get the machine beside me. With a white remote control he begins to move the upper half of my bed, sitting me up instantly. “We’ve got to take your blood pressure,” he explains vaguely.

I nod and allow him to take my arm.

“I’m Tom, by the way,” the nurse introduces himself as he fastens a black strap around my arm. “I tried telling your mom my name but all she said was, ‘is my son okay? Where did you take him?’ We had to move you out of the emergency while she was getting coffee, see. She freaked the fuck out.”

Cam lets out a loud snort as I look at Tom with surprise. Tom ignores us both, babbling on about the ridiculous things my mother had done while I was unconscious.

That’s another reason why God is unfair. My parents shouldn’t have to put up with a kid like me. From the thousands upon thousands of sperm my dad owned on a drunken night, I had to be chosen. They would have been happier with any other kid; one who actually spoke at the dinner table, had a bunch of friends, and probably even ran for school president. A guy who knew how to eat well and pee even better.

My mom would fret less if she had a kid like that. I’m sure that she’ll get grey hair before sixty because of me. Unlike my mother, my father is probably fretting over what the neighbours will think about us now that I’m stuck in here. My parents would try to keep it a secret, but secrets don’t exist where I live.

Did you hear about their son? They would say.

I heard it was a suicide attempt.

I wonder what they do to him at home.

Do they even treat him right? Physical abuse?

Malnutrition. Do you see how thin he is?

Sick people, they are. Poor thing.

That’s one thing that made my mind so fantastic; no one—not even the neighbours—knew about it.