Loser in The Bathroom

Loser...

    "Get out of my way." Jeremy snarled.

     "You loser..." Michael froze, eyes glazing over with tears, threatening to fall. He nodded stiffly, as Jeremy shoved past him, and closed the door. The dark haired boy locked the door, before slumping to the floor, burying his head in his arms.

      "Hello-o!" a voice called from outside the door. Jenna Roland. Michael lifted his head, and cleared his throat.

     "I-I'm on my period!" He silently cursed at the voice crack, and crossed his fingers, hoping Jenna would fall for it.

    "Take your time, honey!" Her footsteps retreated into the distance. Michael looked down at his CREEPS shirt, tears starting to slip down his face. No wonder Jeremy thought he was a loser. Here he was, hiding in a bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. He wasn't even invited. 

     Jeremy didn't care about Michael. He could just disappear, and Jeremy would have no clue. No care. Michael's head hit the wall with a loud bang. He missed being in a two player world, where everything was fine because Jeremy was a brother with his back.

     "But of no fault of mine... there's no other half there..." he whispered to himself. A sob escaped his throat. He was just Michael in a bathroom, sobbing. Making a fool of himself. He would wait it out, as he cried.

     Michael knew Jeremy was out there. Did 12 years mean nothing to him? Would Michael be replaced? Outside the door, he could hear a girl singing along to Whitney Houston. 

     "I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY!!!!" she sang off-key. The boy in the bathroom cringed. Jeremy was gone. Michael no longer had someone to mock drunk girls with. It was just him. He choked on a sob, tears spilling onto his dark shirt. 

     He took off his glasses and placed them on the toilet seat. There was no point in wearing them while he cried. They would just cloud up. He was just Michael. His stomach churned, making him regret the beers he had. 

     Michael would wait as long as he could, for his face to dry. What would he say about his red eyes? He could blame it on weed. Everyone knew he was a stoner. He could say there was something in his eye. Michael used his sleeve to wipe away a few tears.

    He leaned over and threw up into the bathtub. It made him regret the beers more. Michael hadn't eaten much, so it was mostly stomach acid. Suddenly Michael heard clanging on the door.

Knock knock knock knock

     He knew they would start to shout at him to get out. They were drunk teens They needed the restroom.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

     "OH HELL YEAH I'LL BE OUT SOON!" he yelled

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK 

     His head pounded, and his breathing sped up. Only Jeremy could calm him down during a panic attack, but he left him alone.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

   "Here in this teenage battle zone." Michael thought.

CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG

    He could tell they were angry. His heart was pounding.

BANG BANG BANG BANG

    Michael wished he had never come.

SPLASH SPLASH SPLASH SPLASH

     He splashed his face with water, cooling himself down. He turned to the door and put a hand on the knob, but the knocking had stopped. Michael went back to the mirror and stared at himself. He wasn't worth Jeremy... Jeremy was cool. Michael wasn't... 

     "This is a heinous night... I WISH I'D STAYED AT HOME IN BED, WATCHING CABLE PORN!" He was now in hysterics, his voice high and screechy. Tears running down his face.

      "OR WISH I'D OFFED MYSELF INSTEAD, WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!... Wait... That's it. Offed myself." Michael got to his feet, opening a drawer. Inside it, was one of those blades used for shaving, and shaving cream. He picked up the blade.

     Michael hadn't done this in a while. Not since Jeremy had caught him doing it. But Jeremy didn't care about him. Michael closed his eyes, placed the blade against his skin, and dragged it down. Beads of blood started forming.

    He dragged the blade down again. He couldn't feel the pain. It was numb. He slashed against his fingers, blood now streaming out instead of being small beads. Michael carved against the flesh of his arms.

     "Wait... A note..." He fumbled with his phone, and sent a text to Jeremy.

Michael: Goodbye Jeremy... It was great to be your friend

     Jeremy didn't respond. Micheal slashed more deep cuts on his arms, getting woozy from loss of blood. He kept slashing, his arms coated in blood. He would die here in this bathroom. 

     "Awesome party, I'm so glad I came..." he whispered, before blacking out, head banging against the floor...

AUTHORS NOTE: Hue hue, cliff hanger. No, this isn't the end. This is just the beginning. Check back for more chapters!