Suicide Boulevard (one shot)

Chapter 1

It's Tuesday. I don't like Tuesdays. I don't like any day. Except maybe Saturday. Then I sleep in a lot. Nothing else to do, I guess. Mom's busy, Trevor's out and it's just me in this big house cage. I sleep. The thoughts, they don't enter my dreams. Dreams are safe. Except for when they aren't, that is. Panic attacks; nightmares in the daytime. Voices everywhere: whispering, yelling, and screaming. Lots of screaming. You're ugly. Die. We hate you. No one wants you. I don't know why they scream at me. They never stop. It just goes on and on and...

I'm in the shower. They aren't as loud in here. The sound of the water drowns them out. The water is cold today. Trevor must have used up all the hot water. Just my luck. It's a quick shower. I don't like feeling cold. It reminds me of...what to wear? Doesn't matter, they make fun of me anyway. I go with jeans and a t-shirt. Some people say I'm trying to act Goth because all my jeans are black and I have purple streaks in my hair. A lot of my things are black. I just really like the color. It soothes me.

Downstairs. Trevor's eating pancakes. Mom's impatient. But she's always like that. 'Darcy.' She says. 'Eat your pancakes.' Pancakes. I love pancakes. Pig! That was Todd. I started naming the voices last month. It helps a little. 'Go away, Todd.' I mumble. He'll be back soon. He always pops up when I think about food. Can't eat now. 'Darcy.' She says again. I guess she'd sound concerned to anyone else, but I don't think she really cares. I wasn't what she wanted, I can tell. I was unplanned. I shake my head. Supposed to clear my thoughts, but she thinks I don't want my pancakes. Better let her think that. I'd waste too much time on the pancakes anyway.

The drive to school is always the same. The awkward silence is deafening. It used to make me feel guilty, but now I've come to like it. The voices don't say anything, and I study the traffic while mom tries to get me to talk about problems at school. But the problem isn't with school, it's with me. And I'm not even entirely sure what's wrong with me. I tried talking to her before, but she just passed me to a psychiatrist who gave me some meds. But the meds just made things worse. It was like the more pills I took, the louder the voices got. My nightmares got really vivid too, and that started the panic attacks.

It's all so bad and I don't know how much longer I have to live like this in constant fear that I may never get better and I have to keep on going being the bad guy and pushing everybody away because let's face it, they couldn't handle it anyway.

Walking into school is probably the most awkward part of the day. I don't know what's worse; the stares or the whispering. There's that weird girl that never talks to anyone. She's so rude. Look at her hair. She's still trying to act Goth? Still, as mean as they are to me, I like them better than the voices because at least I get a break from them every day. The voices however, are always with me. And they're a lot meaner because they know all my insecurities.

I'm in class now. I usually stay at my desk all day. Unless of course Nikki shows up. She's like my best friend, and the only person who really understands me. She's pretty messed up too, but she's much better at hiding it than me. She's also sort of popular, so some people get jealous when she blows them off to hang out with me. I always pay for it later, but Nikki's worth it. Being understood is an underrated privilege.

Nikki's got a boyfriend-well she says they're just friends-named Shawn. He helped her get started on her recovery. Nikki says the hardest part about recovery is when you're not so sure you want to recover. I want to recover, go back to how I used to be. But sometimes I like the sadness, and I don't want it to go. At times like that, when I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise. The rest of the time it's just hell.

Doesn't seem like Nikki's showing up today. I usually get picked on when she's not around. Still, not as bad as the voices. They get bored eventually though. It's usually a struggle to stay awake or at least appear attentive in class since I'm so tired all the time, and nothing about school gets me excited anymore. When I was ten I couldn't wait to be in high school. Now I'm sixteen and wondering what on earth I was thinking at the time.

'Earth to Darcy.' Okay, so Nikki showed up. That's a relief, I wasn't sure what I'd do if I had to go through today without her. The first five days after the weekend are always the hardest. Nikki's hair is back to brown today. Sometimes she styles her hair like mine and pretends to be my twin. I'm really lucky to have her.

'Hellooo, anybody in there?' she taps my forehead twice with two fingers. She does that when I space out. 'Hi Nikki.' I say quietly. The people are starting to look at us again. I don't like being stared at. It's uncomfortable. 'How's Shawn?' I ask. She's blushing. 'He's okay,' she says. I like it when she talks to me about Shawn. It's like reading a book on a rainy day. Sometimes I imagine what it must be like to have a Shawn.

So the teacher finally walks in, and the talking dies out. More silence. Nikki hands me a note. 'Meet me by the swings during lunch.' I don't have to spend lunch alone today. That's good, because Cathy usually torments me during lunch. But she won't come near me if I'm with Nikki. Nikki can be pretty intimidating when she wants to be.

Its lunchtime and I'm heading for the swings. I never got why our school has a playground. It's a high school. But anyway, Nikki's sitting on one of the swings, smiling at her phone. No doubt she's talking to Shawn again. I wonder if she smiles at her phone when she's talking to me. Probably not.

She sees me. She gets off the swing and curtseys. 'Darcelle Williams.' She says. My name isn't Darcelle though; she just says that sometimes to make me smile. I curtsey too. 'Nicole Bouvier.' I say. We have this thing we do where we call each other's full names then curtsey to each other. I don't know why, but it's kind of funny.

She raises a finger and opens her backpack. She has something to show me. Probably another drawing. Nikki likes to draw. She says it distracts her from the pain. I draw too...just not in the same way. And not as much. I have special brushes and an extra special canvas. Also, I only draw when I get really suicidal. I only draw when I know I'm at a point where Nikki won't be able to help me. It kills her when I get suicidal. Nikki doesn't know I draw. She'd die if I told her.

She shows me her drawing. It's a girl. I don't know her, but I recognize her eyes. They're cold. Distant. Silently cut off from the world. Just like mine. The girl's supposed to be in a classroom, but I can tell she doesn't really see a classroom. Not so sure Nikki can tell though. She doesn't pay much attention to her drawings. Sometimes she draws unconsciously.

Nikki taps my forehead again. 'Well? What do you think?' I nod. 'It's really good.' And it is, too. 'Who is she?' I ask. Nikki nods past me. I look and see a girl with dark brown hair and the same look as the girl Nikki drew. It was the same girl. She walked like she was trying to get away from something. 'Her name's Cali.' Nikki says. 'She's in my Spanish class.'

I nod slowly. I'm not sure what to make of it. The girl and I, we have the same eyes. I bet she's bullied too. People with eyes like ours aren't accepted. I look up at the sky. It was clear and sunny this morning, but now it's gloomy and covered in clouds. Maybe it'll rain. I like the rain. Sometimes I go up to the roof of my house and just sit in the rain.

There's silence in the rain. No voices at all. It's like a blanket over the sadness. It's in those moments I think about the past two years. Racheal, the divorce, dad leaving with Roger, the face of the man driving the car that killed Jingles...my cat. Also, in those moments, I only hear one voice. I haven't thought up a name for her yet. I'm scared of her because she sounds just like me. And she only says one phrase: "Dolor sit amet." Life is pain.

I look at Nikki again. She's smiling at me. Her eyes aren't. She's got dark rings. And she looks tired. She mentioned nightmares, but I didn't think they were actually keeping her awake so much. I should have though. I hug her tightly. She starts to cry. She seems so strong all the time, I forget she cracks sometimes. I'm really happy I can be there for her like this. It'll never measure up to what she does for me, but it's something.

The bell rings again. Lunch is over. Nikki pulls back and smiles at me. It's real this time. I smile back. I can't fake smiles when I'm with Nikki. We walk back to class. At least with Nikki around it won't seem so long.