"So, I think we should come to an agreement." I say and Jexton looks up at me from twiddling his thumbs. He tilts his head up, but doesn't say anything motioning for me to explain. "I think we should lock all of our weapons up until we absolutely need them." he lowers his brow in confusion and I roll my eyes and sit up. "Look, as much as you've done for me to make me, I still don't trust you, and let's face it: you probably don't trust me either." he shakes his head and sits up as well. He rests his forearms on his knees and looks down at the ground, then back up at me.
"I have no reason to not trust you." he says and I look at him as if he had just said the stupidest phrase ever. "Really?" I say sarcastically and he nods. "Because out at the CDC, you told me that I can't be trusted just as much as you couldn't."
"You haven't. But you have every reason to not trust me; and this is your house, so you make the rules." he puts his hands up in defeat. "Good." I say and sit back again.
"I can't believe you can just sit here and read and think it's fun," Jexton says after a long period of silence and I look up from my book. "I've never been so bored in my life." he finishes and I roll my eyes and set my book on my lap with attitude. "Look, there's not really much else to do around here, and I take that very offensively!" Jexton's eyes widen and I sigh and look back down at my book.
"Okay." he says and stands. I glace up and watch him walk out of the room. "Where are you going?" I ask. "In my room. Gonna think about something more productive to do while you bore yourself to death." I throw my book on my lap, but before I can yell at Jexton, his door slams and I sigh angrily.
By the time I finish my book, it is dark outside. When my mother was alive, we'd only read a few chapters of a book and then talk about them. Reading two different books always made the conversation longer and more interesting. However, since I have all this free time now I can finish two books in one day. It sounds boring, but I'd much better like to exit this distraught world and enter a new one full of love and happiness; even if it was fake.
I have always been asking myself since my mother was killed why I was born in such a world. What did I do to deserve a life like this? Why couldn't I have been born in her generation or the generation before that? When kids actually had a normal childhood?
When I finally decide that one and two thirds books is good for the night, I stand and almost fall; as I hadn't noticed my knees went numb from sitting in the same position for hours. After stretching and regaining my balance and circulation, I walk to Jexton's room without further thought. The light is on but no sound comes from the other side. I lightly tap on the door and lean against it.
"Jexton?" I tap a few more times when he doesn't answer. "Jexton? Are you awake?" I hear sniffles and my hand immediately falls to the doorknob. I open it without thinking it through.
When I walk in, I see Jexton sitting on his small bed, cross-legged with his back toward me. He sniffles and bends his head further down, then back up again. I take a few steps toward him and he raises his voice. "Go away!" he yells and I flinch, startled by how aggressive he suddenly became. "Jexton, what's..."
"Nothing. Just leave me alone." he says and makes a sound that is similar to winces of pain. He leans down then back up again, clutching his arm.
"Jexton, don't be like this to me." I say and take a few more steps until I'm just above his slouching body. I see small red spots on his jeans and along the sides of his opposite hand, which is covering his arm. "Jexton." I repeat and he turns around quickly. My hand slaps my lips as I gape at the sight. Jexton's arms are bleeding with several little cuts here and there. Goosebumps cover my body and I cannot look away from Jexton's red and tear-soaked face.
"One for every fucked up situation," he explains and looks down at the cuts. "it hurts so damn bad, but..." he doesn't finish his sentence, but instead points to a specific cut and stares at it. "this one's for my dad." he says.
"Give me your knife." I demand and hold my hand out. He stares up at me as if he hadn't heard a word I said. "Now," I demand again and he hands his pocket knife over. "and everything else that can break your skin." he digs through his bag and hands it to me when he gives up on digging through it. I take the bag from his hands and walk toward the door again.
"I'll give this back when I find everything that you can hurt yourself with." I say and turn toward the door. I sigh. "We're both under a lot of stress," I say with my back to him. "we have both been to hell and back, but you shouldn't beat yourself up over it." and with that, I leave Jexton's room and enter mine, throwing the bag in the corner and myself on my bed.
YOU ARE READING
Us Against The World
Adventure" We stand there for a few more minutes just pointing our guns and staring at each other. My arms begin to hurt, but I know that I cannot let my guard down. I know that eventually I will die; but I don't want it to be like this. If anything, Jexton...
