city of achilles {bxb}

chapter 1

Monday (still)

I just pulled an all-nighter.

I've been looking at the clock telling myself I'm gonna go to sleep in x amount of minutes, but by the time it came 4 AM, I knew it was useless to try sleeping. Here's how my night went:

10 PM, Sunday: I realize it's time to go to bed, but ignore it because I never follow this anyway.

11 PM, Sunday: I realize I have to work on a talk (a speech, basically- at the Kingdom Hall, when you reach a certain age, they start giving you Biblical material that ties into the week's study to write a speech on if you're a boy and give you a scenario to act out if you're a girl and you present it during a midweek meeting) and I tell myself I'm going to start it once I'm done checking the school calendar to see when winter break starts (even though I've just started at this school). The calendar is useless and has nothing on it except for dates of holidays.

12 AM, Monday: It's too late to sleep now! Fuck it.

1 AM: The time to lie down and contemplate life.

2 AM: Painting time. I go back to my easel and go to finish Apollo's eyes.

3 AM: I remember I have to work on the talk. It's on Wednesday night and I know I'm not gonna wanna work on it the day of. I ignore this impulse and keep working on Apollo.

4 AM: I realize it's useless to try and sleep now. I give Apollo the same two random freckles I have on my face and consider giving him my vitiligo patch near my right eye as well, but decide against it.

5 AM: I panic and open up my laptop to work on the talk. The slip is on my desk and that's when I notice my source material: Leviticus 18:22 and Romans 1:27. It strikes a chord in my brain and I crush the slip. This isn't just your typical 'no sex out of marriage' talk about sexual immorality- it's about me. They plotted this on purpose. I wanna break something, or someone.

5:10 AM: I punch a wall with my left hand. My knuckle bleeds.

5:30 AM: I'm sobbing in the corner. I punch a wall again, with the same hand. I reach under the futon for my box of razor blades.

5:40 AM: I've gotten blood all over my shirt, but I'm on a power trip. I start talking to myself.

"Stupid. Fucking faggot. Stupid fag."

5:50 AM: I carve F-A-G into my wrist. I stop crying instantly. My brain is done producing feelings for now.

6:00 AM: My alarm sounds. It's Wake Up by Rage Against The Machine. I shut it off and go to the washroom.

I turn on the shower and foolishly step in before tying up my hair. I tie up my hair and it keeps my wrist away from the hot water for a second, but I need to clean it eventually. There's no use in hesitation. I let the water run and wince, clenching my jaw. Once I get used to the feeling, I wash the rest of me. I notice my knuckle already bruising up.

It's weird how I'm not even tired. There's not a fibre of my being that wants to sleep right now, but I know that won't last long. I'll have to either find the time to make a coffee or buy one on my trip to school. I wrap my wrist and I put on a big hoodie that'll hide my knuckle. I put on Role Of A Lifetime from this indie musical called Bare. Musical theatre is intriguing to me, but I'm too shy for it. I can definitely put on a show when I'm alone, but I have to put on too many shows when I'm around people that I don't think I could handle anything more. However, if I ever had the role of Jason, I wouldn't be playing a part at all- Jason is this closet gay Christian kid who kills himself in the end. Sounds like me.