Quandary

Quietus

The two of us walked on, happy as ever. I didn't regret coming to the prom, I had a wonderful time that night. My feet pressed against the wet pavement as we waited for our parents to pick us up. Braxton turned to me, smiling in a calm manner.

"I've gotta tell you Don, I thought you were going to confess to Hailey tonight."

"What? Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like you still liked her."

He fell quiet for a moment and then managed to speak up. It was if he was lifting a burdened thought off his chest.

"The way you looked at her, that sorrowful expression in your eyes, it just felt off to me..."

"I'm keeping my word, so don't worry."

Braxton patted me on the back in a cheerful manner.

"I trust you Don."

I then jolted up from my bed. It wasn't real. I grabbed a glass from my desk and chucked it at the wall. The glass shattered to thousands of pieces and collected into a pile on my carpet. I looked at my clock, it was six pm. I had been sleeping all day long. I hunched my back over my bed and stared at my bedroom's wallpaper. Life felt empty. There was no purpose to anything. I had been suspended from school for the rest of the year so all my time was spent stuck in this house. My permanent record most likely said I assaulted a student. I let out a sigh and stood up. I felt the sameness of life more than ever now. I would wake up, take a shower, eat food, stare at my bedroom wall, and go back to sleep. Then, do it all over again. What was the point to living anymore? My parents tried all they could to get me to talk. But I wouldn't say a word. It had been a month since my first therapy session. I didn't know why I had to still go to them. I'd just sit there and stare at Doctor Remington for an hour. But they kept on insisting... Doctor Remington kept pushing my parents to give me some kind of medication but they refused. They were against pills. There was no more happiness in my life. There was no more joy.

"Don? You there?"

My mother knocked at the door. I blasted across the room and immediately locked it.

"I see..." Whimpered my mother.

I sluggishly fell down to the carpet.

"Well I made you dinner Don. I'm going to leave it by the door for you."

Should I even say thanks? What good would food do at this point? I then paced back and forth in my room until my body felt like collapsing. I fell into my bed and slept away the rest of the day. Life was now just a cycle of waking up to a rotten world and then going back to the peaceful land of slumber. If only I could change what I did... If only I could go back... Everyone's words seemed to echo in my head. It felt cruel to listen when I knew that I rejected them. "You're a good friend Don." Stop... "If you ever need anything, tell me. I'll be there for you." Please- "Don is my friend." But- "Thank you for helping my daughter." But you're all gone now! You all left me and I'm to blame! I shut my eyes tighter, trying not to cry. "Who has left you Don?" I then remembered the answer to that question. I remembered why I was so scared of loss. It started that day... The day I would never let my anger out again... That is, until recently. I was eight years old when it happened.

My younger self sat in the comfort of my couch, facing the deadly stare of my mother.

"Don, you should never cause harm to another person! No matter the situation!"

It was the evening of the day I had hit the boy. I had punched him for bullying kids about their weight. I remember feeling happy that I managed to stick up for the others.