Cold

12 - Cold Plastic

Ezra's hands trembled as he pushed open the door. His jacket was slung over his shoulder and his shirt was unbuttoned far enough to show the ribs along his chest as they heaved up and down. A small bell rang in the store as the door opened, making the boy at the counter look up at him.

Holy...

The boy gave him a small smile but his eyebrows were scrunched together in concern.

Concerned why some useless fat fuck is in his store. Concerned how I'm possibly going to carry anything in my fat fucking hands. Concerned that I'm going to buy them out of chips and doughnuts and slushies.

Doughnuts.

Ezra ducked his head down and walked into the isles.

I need paper. Paper to say goodbye to everyone. I'll need a pen or something to write with. I'll also write some sort of will. It won't be legally binding and I don't have much of anything to give away but I want Alyssa to have my plants. She makes fun of my process but at least she knows it. Mom would probably be too sad to take care of them.

His eyes started to fill again with tears. Pressure built in his head from not letting himself cry in the middle of a convenience store. He found small notebooks and little pens with different names on them. He could never find his name so he ended up with one that said "#1 MOM" on it.

Don't think about her, don't think about her, don't think about her.

Don't think about her thinking about me.

Dead.

Her only son.

Gone.

Her only son who lied to her the last 2 years.

Her son.

Her's.

Her.

Don't think about her.

His vision was blurry and his head pulsed with tears ready to flow, ready to get out. They'd get out. Soon.

He took a deep breath, walking to the counter with shaky legs, blinking over and over again to see right. He looked up behind the counter again. The boy was watching him like he was pretending not to be. His thick eyebrows pressed down above his eyes. His eyes were weird. Not blue, not brown, not green, they were just... eyes. Ezra couldn't make himself not look at them. His hair was like tarnished gold, a lock of it hung in front of his eyes but the rest flopped along any way he leaned. Floppy.

"Are you all set?" the boy stood up straight, holding his hand out for Ezra's things. He nodded in response, watching his hands scan the stuff. "What are you all dressed up for?"

Well, I was going to go to a dance but then my friend dumped me because she thought I was lying about my mental stability so I wouldn't have to date her.

"I was going to go to a dance but I changed my mind."

"I see," he reached for a bag when Ezra sniffled. "Are you okay?" Ezra looked up at the boy's face again. He was chewing at the skin on his lips.

"Uh, yeah, it's just... long night, that's all."

He stopped what he was doing and ducked a little to catch Ezra's drifting gaze. "Hey, I mean, I don't know what you're going through but, you know, there's always tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tears began to pour into Ezra's eyes again and he tore them away from the boy's captivating glow before he could see.

"Um, hold on, I forgot something," Ezra turned down the isles again to let some tears escape into his jacket. His head was swimming in the pressure of it all. It was all building up but crashing down simultaneously. Down, down, down.

Shatter.

He took in a deep and choppy breath that the boy could undoubtedly hear before grabbing a pack of gum and heading back to the front counter, this time avoiding eye contact all together. The boy rang him up quickly and Ezra handed him his money.

Take longer. Talk to me more. Power, go out. Armed robber, please come in right now. I wish this boy didn't know basic math... or how to read. Take longer.

A plastic bag was held up in front of him.

"Have a good night."

Ezra slowly took the bag. Why do you have to be so nice? If you were rude, ugly, and an overall terrible person maybe it wouldn't be so hard to talk to you.

"Yeah, you too," he nodded and took the slowest walk to the door, not sure if he was dragging his feet or if his feet were dragging him.

Something, please, anything... happen.

"Hey," the boy called making Ezra stop and turn around. He looked like he didn't expect him to actually turn around. He looked like he didn't want him to actually leave. "Uh, stay warm out there, okay?"

Ezra nodded before walking outside with his jacket in his hands. What did it matter if he was cold? Everything about him was cold. What would it matter in a few minutes whether or not he had frostbite. It wasn't even that cold. He was used to it. His jacket wouldn't have done anything anyways. He still carried a notebook and pen for suicide notes and a stupid pack of gum.

It's not even sugar-free.

He walked down the street to the nearest apartment building. The cold plastic bag hitting his leg every step.