Make It Worth It

Chapter 1

As I take my shower, I think about my plans for today.

Go to my early-bird soccer practice,

Overdose,

Die and all the pain goes away.

That’s how it works, right?

Quick, Fast, Easy?

No one will even remember that I’m gone, no one is going to care about it. They’ll just treat my death, like a dead dog in the road. Tragic when they hear about it, but will they be the one to go pick up the dog and bury it? Nope. I’ll stay wherever I pass out, until the janitor comes to pick me up and put me in the garbage. So, I hop out the shower, throw on my uniform, grab my bag and head out.

It’s only a 15 minute run to my school, but today, since it’s my last day, I decide to walk it. Who gives if I’m 10 minutes late? Coach, won’t even see me, I’ll be in the locker room... quite simply just.. dead. 

“Good morning!” Shop owners call out to me, as they open up their stores. I merely wave at them, it wasn’t a “Hello, how are you today?” it was more of a “Hi, I’m lonely, grim, and awkward. How are you?” As I walk down the strip, I start to notice the real world of my neighborhood. The real uptown London, you’d be surprised at all the fake I see. The billboard advertising a fast-food restaurants new healthy salad dishes. Ha! I’d love to see that. There’s also a new diet pill out, called Lehotave? That sounds like someone’s feces. I mean bloody hell, Lehotave? Really? What has the world come to? Mesmerized in the stupidity I’ve just experienced, I’m surprised to realize I’ve made it to the field.

I sprint along the bushes to the locker room to make sure I’m not seen (and punished). Once I reach the locker room, I see Roger, our goalie. Roger’s about 6’ 1” and he’s really buff. You’d be scared of him if you were my size, only 5’ 5” and skinny has a stick, but to me, he’s the victim and I’m the bully. It’s quite ironic.

“You’re screwed man, we’re doing laps today. I wasn’t even 5 minutes late, I was 30 seconds and he’s having me do 4 extra laps.” He says, patting me on the shoulder, “and you’re 12 minutes late.” 

I wish Roger would just lay off, he knows Coach doesn’t care about me. He just likes scaring me. He wants to be the bully, and his wish will be granted. He doesn’t even care enough to think about if something’s wrong with me, if I’ve had a rough start of the day. No, he goes straight for scaring me and making me feel bad. I’ll make sure to mention him in the note. I go into coach’s office and grab a scrap paper and pen and start jotting down my reasons for my actions. I think he should know out of all people, I mean, I see him the most. He’s like my father, but he really doesn’t care about me like that. Does that make sense? Probably not. But get used to it, I, Isaiah, don’t make any sense at all. After writing the note, I take the steroid stash from underneath the benches and take the needle and I stick all of it in me.