𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞; byler

Chapter 13- Will

THAT DAY WILL stayed at school late.

 He did that a lot lately, since he really hated sitting at home alone. He liked sitting on the bleachers and hearing the sounds of the football team practicing while he sketched. It made him feel less alone. 

He never noticed before how little time his mom actually spent at home now that she had Bob. Will liked Bob, he was happy his mom found who loved her like she deserved. That said, he missed how their house had been two years ago; how there was always light and music, how there was always someone to talk to, Like his mom or Jonathan or Mi- he didn't let himself finish that thought.

He just sighed and opened the front door with the little key he had in his pocket. 

He checked his watch: 20:23. Bob and his mom should be home already.

                                                                              ✴ ⁕ ✴ ⁕ ✴

The small house was dark and empty. Of course.

Will flipped the kitchen light on and opened the fridge, not really hungry. Lucky for him, since there was nothing to eat anyway. He closed the refrigerator door, and a small note hanging on a magnet caught his eye:
Will sweetie,
Bob's sister took a drastic turn for the worst. we had to leave early. Made you some dinner, it's in the microwave, plus some money is right next to this note in case you want to do something fun. We'll be home Monday, or Tuesday at the very latest.
Love, mom.

he stroked the last words on the paper. He missed his mom. It's been so long since she had actually told him she loved him, but that's just how she was, and he had to remember that she did love him.

so what? a snarky voice in his head told him, are you going to go to the snowball with your mother? or a girl? No. you're a good for nothing fag. just keep cutting yourself since that's the only thing your'e good at anyway.

Will knew that voice all too well. It came to him often, ever since he was a kid. But it had been a while since it was so loud and clear, almost taking over him. 

Will opened his palm, saw the small cut his nail had made earlier that day, a small red line on his smooth palm. 

Almost in a trance, he went down the empty hallway to his room and grabbed the kitchen knife from under his bed. Then he went back to the kitchen, sat at the table and rolled up his sleeve. His hand was covered in cuts from top to bottom, slashing over each other at places. 

The sight made him ashamed, sick. He found an old scar and slashed the knife over it viciously, watching the blood pour onto his pale skin in contempt. 

Just kill yourself already, the voice said. 

Will rolled up his other sleeve and stared at the blue veins on his wrists. 

One slice and everything could be over. 

for a moment he seriously considered it. But then the thought he'd never see Mike's face again stopped him. even if he couldn't be with him, he couldn't bare the thought of never seeing Mike again.
Will rolled his sleeves, not caring when one side turned dark with the blood still running from the fresh, aching wound. He screamed loudly into the empty air. He thought about that day in the rain, when his literal nightmare came true. How could he lose the most important person to him? worse then that, Why was this stupid boy making him do these things? how could he be so damaged? he was 16 for god's sake, why couldn't he have some self esteem? 

Then suddenly a loud knock sounded on the door. 

Will hurried to throw the knife in the sink, rolling his sleeves down so they covered his hands. He stepped to the door and opened it, expecting to see his mom.

But outside stood a tall man with graying hair and brownish stubble on his chin, wearing a blue button up shirt that zipped up completely sideways and smelled strongly of alcohol. It was a man Will never thought he'd see again.

Outside his door, shivering in the cool night sky, stood Will's father.