Overflowing ash tray, blood splatters decorating the floor, energy drink cans stacked on the desk. One too many, they seemed like they would fall any second.
My room was a huge fucking mess.
There was no doubt in my mind that my mother was upset about it. I mean, smoking inside had always been off limits and there I was basically sitting in a cloud of grey all day.
She didn't say anything though, no or maybe she had. Who knows? I didn't listen anymore when she talked, didn't care anymore. I ignored her most of the time, locked myself in my chamber of sadness, dying slowly of self pity.
I didn't want her to see me like...this.
No, not her only son. I couldn't do that to her. She didn't deserve to see that, to have her loser of a fucking son all up in her face. It was better that I kept to myself and figured things out on my own.
I am sure she knocked once, or twice. Alright maybe like three times. Who knows? Like I said I didn't pay attention anymore. At least I really tried not to, right.
What I wanted then was too far away, too out of touch, too unexplainable for my mom's ears. She wouldn't understand, no one would've. Not even Gerard.
I craved death.
My problem was, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring death upon myself. Nope, I wasn't even capable of doing something seemingly so simple.
And the reason for that, my only reason for not being dead yet, yes, the only person that was holding me back: myself.
Heart all broken, no shower in days, laying on the cold wooden tiles of my bed room floor was me and though I was already letting myself go physically and emotionally, I wasn't able to let myself go in this madness of a world
Not over some stupid fucking crush.
No, that wouldn't be right.
A crush on my best friend who had abandoned me?
No, no. No.
It would pass eventually, or so I hoped.
Strangely, I always had to laugh a little when I thought about the last time I saw Gerard. That time when he had visited just to make his boyfriend jealous, how I had been used for some stupid game they played.
And how I had just let it happen.
Maybe I had to laugh because I was just such a fucking loser or maybe it was a self protective way of shielding my pain. Who knows.
Though I wasn't going to kill myself, I really wished I could just disappear. Disappear into nothingness, disappear into another, better, life. I would've run away if I'd had the strength to, but I was weak and I knew it would break my moms heart. I didn't necessarily need her, but I knew she needed me and after all I seemed to be on earth for other people's benefit. Fuck my feelings, they didn't matter at all, no. Nothing mattered if you were human garbage.
I pushed myself from the floor into a sitting position and I had to chuckle as I caught my reflection right in front of me in the mirror.
"You look fucking horrible." I laughed some more, now at the thought that I had started to talk to myself. "No wonder no one loves you, you freak. Ha."
My greasy hair fell over my eyes like little shiny strings, blurring my view of my reflection and even then I could still see the disgusting shape of my human shell. "Fucking ugly bastard."
Sighing, I pushed my hair out of my face.
It was kind of a new terrible that I felt when I had seen how bad I looked. Surely, I never looked good, let's be real there, but now I looked particularly awful. That kind of awful that was destined to be alone for ever.
Alone.
"Fuck you." I muttered, dropping my hand into my lap. "Fucking ugly, short, dumb, gross, pathetic, worthless-" Before I could even think of my next insult to myself, a wave of laughter had caught up with my brain and started spilling from my mouth. I couldn't believe I was talking to myself again.
"And a fucking psychopath." I mumbled after the laughter had cooled down and my sadness was kicking in once more. I sighed again. "Nobody wants that, Frank. Nobody wants me."
