DERANGED (Jeff the Killer P.O.V and Romance)

9 - I Don't Want To Argue, But I will Punch you Out

Have you ever had those sleepless nights, the ones that seem to go on forever? The ones where you lay on your aching back, just watching the ceiling as though it can read your thoughts and give you all of the answers? I hadn't, until tonight. My chest felt numb as my blackened heart thumped against its cage, yearning to be free and rid of this disasterous life it was leading. If I could blink, I would blink until my eyelids became so fatigued that they fell shut and glued themselves there, refusing to move, just so that I could be blind and not have to stare at this damn ceiling. I couldn't move my neck, its stiffness making me want to shoot myself. I sucked in the stale air, the cloudiness your head gets  when its frustrated invading my skull. Blowing out that same air after it had circulated in my sorrowful lungs blew itself out, my pale lips quivering with anxiety and defeat. Blood pumped through my veins slowly, and if I had a razor, I'd slice them open at the wrists to end this miserable life of mine.

"Not only my hopes," I whispered quietly to the ceiling, "But my dreams," the brink of tears was soon to come upon me, "...my, everything, is being questioned. And, I don't have the answers..."

The solid lick of water streamed down my cheek, gravity pulling it down to the pillow that layed softly under my heavy head. I continued to stare at the ceiling, the very thought of being lost frightnening me to death. I was lost; I've never been lost before. Up was now down, right was now left.

Hate, was now love.

And I ... Well I was no long me.

"Answer me, please.." I demanded of the ceiling. I needed help; I've never needed help before.

I bit my bottom lip to stop it from shaking, "I'm asking you, I'm begging...Tell me what to do."

But the blank spot my eyes could not see through sat as a silent giant, turning the questions right back onto myself. What was I to do; I had no answer. Groaning, I rolled over onto my stomach to attempt to sleep, if only for a few seconds. I shuffled my hands under the cold pillow to prop my head up when I felt something under it. I sat up, lifting the weightless pillow from the matress, revealing a half empty box of cigaretts, a colorful glass pipe, and a green plant filled bag. I stared at the items, and then back to the ceiling. Almost as though  the sky had wanted me to remember these items, I had. And I knew what I had to do.

I had to speak with Sarah.

***

Dragging my feet in the dirt, I finally made it to Sarah's house. I didn't want to have this conversation with her, in fact, I dreaded it. But there were things we needed to discuss, and if we didn't, our relationship could be ruined forever. I peered around to the drive way, Chris's car being a vacant party. I frowned at that, almost wishing he was here so I wouldn't have to do this; I was being a wimp. Shaking off the fear, I ran a hand through my hair and climbed in through Jenny's window. She looked up from her place on the floor where she pleasantly drew pictures and smiled at me, her pig tails bouncing light brown curls.

"Hi Jeff! Wanna draw with me?"

"No," I responded coldly, passing by her and opening up the door, "Maybe later."

She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, "You said that last time."

"Well I'm saying it again," I said, a serious look on my face, "Where's your mom?"

"Mmm," she contemplated, still pouting, "The livingroom, I think."

I nodded but before exiting I turned around and looked the little girl straight in the eye, "Stay in your room, and lock your door."

She gave me a confused look, but stood up to lock the door which I quietly shut; I wasn't 100% sure Chris wasn't still here. Creeping down the stairs, I looked towards the living room, and sure enough, Sarah sat casually on the burgendy couch, reading a book. I slid down the railing and landed, making her turn around.