Scream Over The Sound (Pierce The Veil)

What If I Don't Even Want To

I furrowed my brow in doubt as I stared at the ground, my feet sticking out of my bedroom window. Who would notice, who would care? I could only I of a few people who would mourn, but they would probably get over it quickly. They would replace me and forget I was ever there.

My eyes began to sting. I had cried so much and I didn't think I could cry anymore. I was all out of tears, but not out of sadness. My gaze wandered from the ground to the sky, only moments before a thick darkness with little specs of light scattered about was now growing reds, pinks, oranges, and even a little blue from the horizon. If I was going to jump, I needed to do it soon or a neighbor who's ignorance of my worthlessness might lead them to try and stop me or call the police.

My eyelids began to falter as they became heavy. If only I had more time, if only I could get somebody to kill me in my sleep, if only I had a gun and I could just shoot myself in the head, if only, if only, if only. If only I were better.

People don't expect much of dead people.

I needed to just let go, no turning back, just push myself off of the ledge and end it. I closed my eyes and emptied my lungs with a deep exhale as I loosened my grip on the windowsill and began to lean forward.

"Rowan? You in there?" I gasped and my eyes shot open as I heard a familiar voice.

At my door three floors below was my friend Vic. The sight of him changed my demeanor completely. I leaned in to my bedroom so he would remain ignorant to my issues, climbing back in and putting on a soft black sweatshirt over my tank-top, not bothering to change out of my pajama bottoms. Quietly kicking the box of razors under my bed and pulling a sheet over the edge, I grabbed my phone.

2 Missed Calls, 5 messages.

I didn't even have to check who they were from. It was uncommon for me to not answer my phone so he must have gotten worried and came over, which wasn't much hassle considering he had always lived two houses away.

Before going down to meet Vic, I stopped in front of my half shattered mirror. My cheeks were puffy and my eyes were red. Not to mention if he came in my room he would see the broken mirror, blood where I had punched it, and the crimson stains on the floor. I sighed and wiped my cheeks, tangling my long brown hair to make it look like bedhead and tiptoed down the stairs, trying to make up a good excuse for not answering my phone.

+++

"So, let me get this straight. You took some sleeping pills that you've apparently had for a while and they just worked even though sleeping pills have never worked for you, and you had a nightmare that you woke up crying from, and the nightmare upset you so much you didn't check your phone?" Vic questioned suspiciously. He was always so good at telling when I was upset.

"Yep," I said casually, pretending I couldn't tell he didn't believe me.

"Uhuh...so why is there blood on your hands?" His voice was more serious now.

My heart dropped as I looked down at my fingers, blood hardned on from punching the window. I bit my lip and held back tears, pulling down my sleeve. "I...I must have hit something in my sleep...?" I was usually stronger than this, but I had lost it. I couldn't quite hold on to that fake smile I usually held so tightly, and I could just feel my walls crumbling down around me.

Vic's expression quickly changed from concerned to sad and seriously worried, but his tone stayed serious. "Rowan, what happened?" I looked down as tears slid down my cheeks and dripped off my chin, darkening the wood of the porch beneath us. I couldn't meet his eyes, I was too afraid that he would end up hating me if I told him. "Rowan," He leaned over and looked at me, "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He sounded almost offended that I wouldn't tell him, like I didn't trust him, even though it was the exact opposite. I couldn't lose him.

I weakly shook my head and tried to smile, but it twitched away. He put his arm around my shoulder and stood me up. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to stay up, leaning into Vic for support. "C'mon, let's go to my house." I frowned but nodded. I was going to have to tell him everything.

I had a feeling that things wouldn't be the same after this.

+++

I rubbed the hem of the soft red and orange blanket Vic had handed to me between my fingers, pondering what was going to happen when I told him, my thoughts and worries eating me alive. What if he hated me? What if he thought I was making it all up for attention? What if he never wanted to see me again? I gnawed on the inside of my cheek until it bled, then I just bit the other side.

Vic was currently in his kitchen making coffee. He knew I loved coffee, so it wasn't odd of him to immediately ask if i wanted some as soon as I got here. Usually i would have declined the offer (only to have him say no and get me that and probably a snack anyways), but I wanted to postpone that conversation for as long as I could.

A few minutes later, Vic came into the room with two cups of coffee. He handed me one and sat down on the other end of the faded camel colored couch. "Thanks," I mumbled so quietly I wasn't sure he had even heard me. I stayed silent as I took tedious sips of the dark liquid. Minutes passed, and I still couldn't look at my friend. I couldn't lose him.

Vic sighed. "Rowan."

"Yeah?" My gut churned as I tried to ignore the crack in my voice.

"Look at me." I shook my head and bit my lip, my hair falling more into my face. I felt his hand on my chin as he lifted my head. I met his gaze and frowned.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." I laughed. "It's not."

I pulled away from his hand and set my coffee down on the small table beside his. "I shouldn't be here, I'm sorry Vic, thanks for trying to help but I'm..." I let the blanket fall off of my shoulders as i stood up and turned around. "I'm fine." My voice cracked but I pretended I didn't notice. I had grown sick of the word.

I walked to the door and opened it, cold air hitting me hard. It was raining now, gradually getting harder and harder. The door closed and Vic stepped in front of me, his face was serious but his eyes were sad. "No you're not."

Tears filled my eyes at his response. My knees shook and felt weak all over. Nobody had ever said that to me, nobody had ever cared. It was always just, "okay" or "well then start acting like it". Other than that, no one even payed enough attention to notice how broken I was. I was a tired of keeping it all in, and even though I knew that nothing good was going to come out of crying and bothering other people with my problems, I still just let it go.

Vic wrapped his arms around me and I buried my head in his chest, pushing hard against his back. Though Vic had been my close friend for years, and he was by far the closest friend I had ever had, he still knew barely anything about me. Whenever I pushed harder, he would match it and holding me tighter.

I could feel his uncertainty before, but now it was probably just pity. "I-I'm sorry," I choked out with a sob. His almond hair ticked my neck as he shook his head.

"You don't need to be."

A/N: If you even made it this far without leaving, I know what you're thinking. "Ambrosia, what the fuck kind of depressing excuse for a first chapter is this??" And to that, I say, i have no clue, and I'm sorry. And the next chapter will be better! Still bad, especially for the beginning of the book, but better. It's okay, I'm getting there.