Fieldathan

chapter six

// it has been a year and a half since I've written in this novel, I have no idea where I left off. Everyone has been yelling at me to update it, but I feel as though I am not as strong as a writer anymore. But the only way to get to where I was, is to practice. //

"Jon? Hey buddy, wake up please." Jonathan hear in a muffled tone, his world slowing forming from the blackness of sleep. He soon fixated on Fieldy and realized the voice was coming from him. Jonathan's head pounded a constant sharp pain when light emerged in his eyes. "Can we talk, please?"

"I don't feel so good," was all that Jonathan could reply. He covered his eyes, in hopes the darkness would lessen his hangover.

"Then don't talk, just listen. I'm worried for you."

"Everyone's worried for me. I don't care right now, Fieldy, I'm hungover."

"Exactly, Jon, you're hungover. You're hungover every morning. Let me see your hands." He gently took Jonathan's hands off his face and examined his palms, he traced his fingers over glass wounds. "How do your hands feel?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Jonathan, we have to talk about it. I'm afraid you're going to kill yourself."

"I don't have the guts."

"Doesn't matter, you shouldn't feel like it at all, whether you go through with it or not. Jonathan, I think you need to get clean."

"Why don't you get clean, Fieldy?"

"Drinking and drugs don't make me wanna kill myself."

"Neither do they for me."

"Right Jon. You got high and drunk and shattered glass."

"I would've done much more if I was straight headed."

"Why? We're on top of the world right now, our band is in the prime of its life. Jonathan talk to me, help me understand why."

"I'm fine Fieldy. Nothing like that will ever happen again. I can handle myself, I'm a grown ass man with a son, I don't need you babying me and telling me how I should be living my life. It's my life, damnit. I'll live it the way I fucking want. I'm fine."

"Promise you'll never do anything like that glass incident again."

"I shouldn't have to promise anything to you."

"I said, promise me."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"If you break it, I'm out of the band." Fieldy's eyes grew tense and Jonathan knew he was serious about this. The only problem was, Jonathan wasn't so serious about his promise.

"Then I'll guess you'll just have to stay forever." And with that, Fieldy nodded his head, and slapped Jonathan's knee as he got up from the couch Jonathan had been sleeping on.

"Have fun with the hangover."

Jonathan groaned and closed his eyes, once again placing his palms on his face. If I live, I'm fucked. If I die, I'm fucked.

He curled up into a ball until he was fast asleep once again, away from the pain, both physical and mental.

"Dad! Daddy!" Nathan cried, sitting on his bed. Tears fell from his eyes like bullets, the ground slowly filling up with water. Jonathan splashed it around with his feet.

"I'm here." Jonathan replied, smiling at his son. "Everything's okay, what's the matter?" Jonathan sat down on his son's bed and pulled Nathan onto his lap.

"Something bad happened, Daddy. Why would you do that to me?"

Jonathan was stunned in horror, "what did I do, Nathan? Tell me."

"You did to me what happened to do."

Jonathan's heart raced. No, that couldn't happen to his son. He would do everything in his power to never let him go through something like that. He'd kill the man who did it. How could it be himself? "Nathan, no I didn't."

"Don't touch me, get away from me Dad." Nathan's voice sounded older, stronger, defiant from Jonathan. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Jonathan would kill the man who did this to his son. He'd kill himself.

A noose hung from the light above Nathan's bedroom. Jonathan slowly stood up, mesmerized by it. He walked closer and closer to it, and placed his head in the middle.

"I love you Nathan. I'm sorry."

Screaming. That's all Jonathan could hear. He couldn't figure out where it was coming from. The house was dark. No one was around. It took moments to realize it came from himself. He began to sob uncontrollably. Even in his dreams he cannot escape his misery. There was no way out. Nothing would end this. I need to get high.

Jonathan spent the rest of the night smoking, doing cocaine, and planning ways of killing himself that wouldn't be so hurtful for those around him.