The Problem is Me [EDITED)

Chapter 25

December, 2014

“What the fuck is happening?”

That phrase pops into my head too many times; it’s like my catchphrase or something like that. On my grave I want the words ‘Nathan McKenzie had no idea what the fuck was going on for fifteen years.’ 

Isn’t it just terrible how people hold grudges? I’ve never been one to hold a grudge, odds are if you come and talk to me five minutes after an argument I’ll be over it already. My mother however is a completely different kettle of fish. She’s never really liked me I don’t think; if I think back on it there was never any real connection between us.

With some people, mainly people in typical high schools from what I’ve seen on TV, you could accidentally nudge them in the hallway and it’d take them two years to stop giving you dirty looks.

Six months ago I was not the same person I am today. It sounds odd, but it’s true. In six months I have moved hospitals, made a friend, lost a friend, started smoking, broke out of the hospital, and returned to my mother.

My mother hasn’t spoken a single word to me since yesterday. Even Blake noticed something was up, but luckily he didn’t say anything. I do not know where I’m going to go from here, but there’s only one reliable way for me to stop her spewing everything after I leave.

First things first though, I needed to go shopping.

It was quite simple to get the credit card from mother dearest, all I had to do was ask her for it and she basically threw it at me and spat out the pin number.

Honestly it had been a while since I’d been out and about, so I was a little rusty. But nothing I couldn’t get used to. I got enough clothes to keep me going, probably more than necessary. The majority of them were black; I think it’s a nice colour to wear, especially in the winter months.

So here I was, dressed in black doc martens, black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black denim jacket with a grey jacket underneath. I was kitted out to do nothing short of a bank robbery. I looked good, which wasn’t an unusual thing for me, but I did look better than I normally did.

She was cooking dinner, but she’d gone off to do god knows what, so I took this as an opportunity. I didn’t want to kill Blake, because he had done no wrong. Actually, he was pretty adorable so it was hard not to take a liking. He had grandparents anyway, that’s where he was pretty much every day. So it’s not like it mattered a lot.

A little bottle full of battery acid is usually a good way to go about things. It wasn’t a difficult task to get the acid of course; I had brought a cheap phone to get the acid out of the battery. Taking apart the phone might be a waste of a tenner, but the battery goo is lithium. God, I fucking hate the word ‘lithium’.  

I had also managed to get a hold of a decent sized syringe to make the job less messy. Gently, I filled the syringe with the substance, making sure I got in every drop I could. I had my bag backed beside me too. Inside it I had a few pairs of jeans, t-shirts, jumpers, jackets, underwear, socks, and a change of shoes. My coat was hanging up with as much money as I could withdraw in the pockets, ready and waiting to go.

I gently set the syringe down beside me and stood up to take a final look in the mirror. My hair was done perfectly, and I looked more alive than I had done in years. My pupils were slightly dilated, and I finally looked less dead. I put on a pair of cotton cloves, so the fingerprints wouldn’t be a problem, and put my hood up to prevent any hair falling out.

Slowly, I took the syringe with the lid still on it, and placed it up my sleeve. I took myself down stairs where I spotted my mother standing over the pots and pans, stirring something with that depressed look on her face. She had her back to me so if I played my cards right, I could get in there without her even noticing.