By Himself

No you cant come in.

~Michael POV

I have been replaced.

I have to get out of here.

I splashed water on my face to rid of the salty tear stains on my cheeks and down my neck.

"I am in a better place."
My own thoughts took over for the rest of the night.

"Awesome party! I'm so glad I came." I said as I walked out.

I loaded myself into my PT Cruiser. I felt the hot tears tip over my eyelashes. "Dammit!" I pounded on my steering wheel. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" I struggled to put my keys into the ignition. Once I did I peeled out of the foreign neighborhood.

***

All alone

***

All by yourself

***

I put my car in park and cleaned up my face. I walked up to my front door. Hesitant, I opened the door.

"I'm sure your nephew agrees, right Michael?" My uncle was yelling at one of his girlfriends.

"He's not my fucking nephew. He will never amount to anything in this family!"

I continued on my set path to my bedroom. I wanted to get high. I wanted to get rid of this pain. I want to be numb.

The tears pour again.

"I only held him back from being 'cool'..." I said to myself. "I was nothing to him. I am nothing to him." I began to hyperventilate. I grabbed at my chest like I was going to tear my heart out right here, right now.

"I should have just stayed home, or..or... killed myself. I should have offed myself instead. I wish I was never born!" I screamed, but no one could hear me over the arguing downstairs.

No one would care.

Jeremy doesn't care.

That's it.

I take my headphones off and put them on my nightstand. I pick up a pen and start writing.

Should I leave a note? Is there any point?

Yes.

Jeremy should have answers. I'm not as cruel as he is.

I took time to check my grammar, punctuation, and spelling. I did not want there to be any confusion.

I opened my bathroom door and started to get worked up again. I stumbled through the medicine cabinet searching for some old percoset prescription I had after I got surgery on my arm almost a year ago.

I wiped snot and tears onto my black sweater. I decided to take it off all together. I also took off my glasses and put them on the sink. I starred at myself in the mirror. My eyes were so red I looked baked. They were so swollen from the constant tears for the past hours, they stung.

"Everything about you is so terrible." My voice breaks. "Everything about you makes me wanna die." I continue to look at my reflection.

I grab the marshmallow vodka I stole from the Halloween party out of my bag. I take a swig.

I put on a white t-shirt and a black headband. My hair was getting stuck to the sweat on my forehead.

Now. Or never.

I pour the whole bottle of pills into my mouth, and I wash it down with the vodka. I make sure not to miss any.

My heart rate was accelerating, I think I am having a panic attack. I go to sit on my bed to calm down.

After about thirty minutes I start to feel very sick. I get up to go to the toilet but I stumble and fall to the floor.

I can't get up.

All I can do is think.

Am I making a mistake?

I can hear the phone ringing the yelling voices.

My heart rate is falling slow, almost still.

"Michael the phone is for you!" I mumble out lifeless words. In my head I am crying for help. I am begging for forgiveness, but it is too late. My uncle's footsteps approach the door.

"Is it true I'm your favorite person?"I mumble. No one could understand me.

Then nothing more can be moved on my body. No more noises escaped my mouth.

"Michael!" Echoed in my head.

Jeremy.