Pussyboy

Pelicula Iñárritu

I'm tired.

"It's not what you think, Niall."

I'd been walking for an hour now. I don't know where I'm going. I feel like it all happened because I deserved it all.

"Stop — wait, Niall!"

Happy people are so lucky. So fucking lucky to even never consider this shit. Never feel used and manipulated and abused and unwanted. They will never feel worthless.

I do.

I have a son. I have a shitty apartment. I have no real job except whoring around. I have nothing to show for this world. I never really had nothing, huh?

Will this ever even let up?

"Niall!"

A sigh followed. His sigh followed.

There's this nearby park in Jersey that used to go to because there were a lot of men here doing god knows what. There was a lot of activity. That's how anybody can sum it all up.

He was walking in circles now.

The snow's thick and blanketed every single place now. It's beautiful. I could stay here forever.

He didn't know I hid behind a bush. Can't believe that this bush was kinda green still. Just sprinkled with snow and ice all around.

I feel like a kid. Like what my kid would do. Like some lost boy. But that is how I am basically, aren't I?

Some lost kid abused by his own loved ones. Hiding now behind a bush in a park hoping to not be caught and not have to face up to the world. The world is shit. The world is a fucking asshole. You're a kid. You should never have to face up to such a thing. Well, that was me now.

I moved my knees closer to my body as I scooched myself together. I put my forehead on my knees. I waited and waited.

"Niall!"

He shouted again.

Frankly, the people outside the park or the few homeless folk would think he was a nutcase. Shouting at the break of fucking dawn for some guy in the middle of winter. It was pathetic but I was even more.

Rock bottom.

That's what this is called.

It's like a never-ending string of events that forces you to confront your humiliation head on while all around you, the people are just laughing and singing and dancing and fucking and just living their lives right. Nothing more to worry for them but I have a lot. It just feels so unfair.

I snorted at that.

I was a child still. I wasn't fit to be Jackie's parent. I couldn't even parent myself. I was shit. I will always be shit. God, what a relief.

I closed my eyes.

"Niall," my mother started. "You need to think about your decision."

In the tiniest voice, I answered her.

"I don't know."

She sighed.

"Niall," she started again. "This isn't a game. You need to decide if you're keeping it or not."

"I don't know."

My father was just sitting on the other love seat. Looking at me. I didn't know what he looked like. If he was angry, ashamed, disgusted, sad, all I knew was he was looking at me.