Book 1 - Slit My Wrist, Hope to Die

Chapter 33 - Psycho

             We heard a loud crack as we walked down the watery street. The crack didn't sound like a thunder to me, so I nudged Tate who was clenching his coat. "What was that?" I had asked him. He shurgged and suggested it was just thunder due to the pissed off storm. I doubtly agreed and walked away from the gas station we took shelter in. The man was quite nice and gave us free bag of chips. I devoured it, letting Tate barely getting any. He didn't seem to mind, though.

                The rain slipped through my hair which caused it to fall down, going into my face. My vision was affected and I could barely see what was three streets ahead. The furious storm was really taking a pounding on us. Most people who saw us were ones who were rushing home, looking out their windows and looking down at us. They must've thought we were crazy for walking through this water park. I decided not to care, though. I need to find Alex. At any cost it might take. Tate must think I'm a psycho.

"Let's start the search again tomorrow!" Tate yelled. The fierce winds made it hard for me to catch what he said.

"No! No, not yet!" I yelled back, trying to reach a higher level than the annoying winds. "Just a little longer! Please!"

"Fine, fine!" Tate clenched his coat a little closer and continued to walk beside me.

                  I didn't want to give up, but by the time we reached the bridge, we had run out of energy. I felt my legs about to give out and my socks were soaking wet along with my cloths. I yelled to go back to the house and Tate followed my order. We both started to take a short cut from the bridge to the house. As we were walking the path, a branch flew off a tree and hit my leg.

                The impact dealt me with such pain, I fell down in the muddy terrace. The wind helped with making me fall down the tiny hill the house lived on. I was heading back to sqaure one, all dirty and helpless. Tate stood in the way, though and stopped my motion. He helped me get back up, patted my back and helped me continue. I owe him for that.

"Be careful next time." Tate said, walking though the door and taking off his coat. "You might've drowned." He chuckled.

"Shut up, man." I returned the humored chuckle. I felt myself grow attach. I pulled back. "So, uh, where would I sleep tonight?"

"Oh." Tate said softly. My guess is he didn't think this through yet. "Um, I guess you can crash in the room downstairs. That's where our dad-" He stopped speaking. He stopped moving. I even could hear his breaths no more. "Guardian sleeps," he finally said. "Jordan, who took us in after NYC."

"Yeah, I heard what happened..." I tried to sound understanding. Yet, no matter how hard I can try, I can never understand what they BOTH been through. Although, I'm a little glad. After the tragic end of Alex and I, I don't think I'll ever regret convincing my mother to move out of the state. Though, I do regret not going out more. If I have, I could've seen Fran MUCH eariler and might've been able to catch up with Alex sooner. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Tate unbottoned his jeans and walked up the staircase slowly.

"Where is Jordan?"

"Coma."

"..." I was stunned. My throat tighten. I couldn't speak.

"Um, I guess don't try to touch anything in his room that much." Tate walked down the hallway, holding the bannister. "Goodnight." He said, as he closed his room door.

             I was left in the living room, looking up at his bedroom door, dripping in the living room. Their house held such symmetry. Their living room had half of one wall, the front door's direction, a window. It was about two feet, maybe more! I wasn't entirely sure as I walked to the door under the balcony. I opened the brown, polished wooden door and entered.

             The room was pitch black as I closed the door. I felt like an idiot because I hadn't turned on the lights yet. With no source of light, I couldn't see a thing. I opened the door again, letting in some light. I also took out my phone and used that as a flashlight. Combing them together, I managed to found the light switch and flick it.

            It was midly messing, with a well deserved decorating. His bedding was brown colored, with a desk that held a computer and a couple books were stacked on the surface. He had a closet and drawers next to each other to the back left corner of the room. The bathroom was right next to the computer set up and his TV hung on the wall infront of his bed. He also had a couple chairs in the front left corner of the room. His room had a personal carpet that felt heavenly on my bare feet and the wallpaper was dark blue with medieval design on the bottom. Oh, let me not forget the nerdy books, posters he stored in the front right corner, a stormtroopers helmet and more he had in his room.

            As I walked in, I couldn't help but feel comforted and happy. I liked the idea of this Jordan guy being nerd. I saw a picture of him and another woman on his desk. He didn't seem like the type to be into these kind of things. I guess it goes to show to never judge a book by it's cover. Too bad I can't help it. I sighed as I took off my wet shirt. My body felt tight, cold and moist. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself.

          My hair was no longer pushed back and thick. It was now thin and dripping wet down my face as it covered my right eye. I almost forgotten how I looked like with my hair down. Why did this catch Alex's attention? My muscles were visable throughout my arms, my veins as well, were popping out. I stopped working out ever since my mother died, so my six pack was no longer there, but a outline took it's place. My v-line was intact though. To think, I used to weigh two-o-five. I took off my pants and laid both of them out on the sink. I took off my breifs and placed it along the tub edge. I put on a towel and got into bed.

           It felt weird being out of place; not being in my own house that is and being so close to Alex, yet I'm not touching her. It also might've been the fact that I'm lying in some guy's bed naked. Oh, how lovely. I stared blankly at the ceiling and crossed my arms around my chest. I imagined Alex in my arms as I hummed "Smother Me" by The Used. It was one of the songs I dedicated to her. I closed my eyes.

           "Fucking, FUCK!" I heard Tate yell. I opened my eyes quickly. "You're such an idiot, oh my god!" I can hear him from this room. Though the flooring. "You let her go! You didn't think it through! You should just kill yourself, Tate. Really. Just do it." I heard him say to himself. "You dealt drugs and didn't tell her. You killed and didn't tell her. You weren't trying to protect her, you were trying to protect yourself! Make you seem like the hero when you really knew you were changing into a monster!" I gave him props there. Even though I don't know the full story, if he came up with that himself, he has self-awareness. It's a trait that most don't have these days. Still, he must be dreaming. He doesn't seem like that type.

               "You killed your best friend and left poor Fran alone." Nick?! Dear god, fucking psycho. I'm not the psycho! He is! I was about to get up when I heard Tate say "You need to speak with her tomorrow. Bring Conner. Maybe he'll help." That's when I continued humming. I don't know his full story, but he seems to be trying to get better. Maybe not better, but something atleast! I gave him more props. I continued to hum as I closed my eyes. I felt Alex even though she wasn't with me.

I dreamt of her that night.