wish i were ⇾ p.c

21- you're somebody else

"well you look like yourself... but you're somebody else, only it ain't on the surface. and you y'all like yourself... no, i hear someone else. so now you're making me nervous."
-flora cash

I walked to my locker during the period before lunch to grab all of my things. I had been called down to the office, my mom was here to pick me and Randy up early.

I guess she had heard about someone in our school committing suicide and wanted to check on us. Randy and Bob did used to be really close... best friends. In a way I felt bad for being happy that he was dead.

This is crazy. Why can't I hate him! After everything he's done, after all he'd put me through.

I walked into the office and the secretary told me my mom was waiting in the car.

"Oh honey," she tried to hug me when I opened the car door, but I dodged away, playing it off by throwing my bag in the backseat. I dont know why, I just didn't want her to touch me. She didn't comment on it. Little does she know, I'm just fine. Better than fine. The best I'd ever been. "Did you know him?"

I stared at her blankly, then I shook my head. "Not really. No." I shut the door and sat in the backseat.

The passenger side door opened again, and in came Randy. He was a mess, sobbing, his shirt sleeve soaked from tears.

He immediately engulfed my mom in a hug. I rolled my eyes when they weren't looking. Seeing him so upset over Bob made my blood boil. He knew Bob was a jerk. He knew it! He saw when he and his friends beat up me and Ponyboy! I wish he knew what had been happening the last few months, too.

"Your dad told me he's sorry he couldn't get out of work," Mom said.

Randy sniffed. "It's o-Okay. And you didn't have to c-come ei-either."

"Of course I did! I know how close you were to Bob. Josh told me that was your best friend since you guys were five. I'm so sorry for your loss."

He nodded, and I clenched my fists in anger. Bob, such a great friend. Ugh. No way. If only they knew the truth. Why should I pretend to be sorry for him?

I truly hope he rots in hell.
***
When we got back home, I waited until my Mom and Randy weren't around before I grabbed the bottle of small pills from the medicine cabinet.

I stared at the label. It had a warning not to take too much. But I would be fine, right? I needed these. I hadn't slept for a minute in the past few months. I'm going crazy. I see things that aren't there, hear things that aren't said. My nails are pure black, but I've covered them up with nail polish. I can't eat. To feel any warmth, I have to sit in a bathtub of boiling water.

I shoved the bottle in my pocket and went up to my room. I sat on the floor and played guitar for a while, strumming the chords to 'Heather'.

I didn't realize I'd been busy for so long, but by the time I looked up, I could see through the huge windows that the sun was low in the clouds. I checked the time. Almost 6 pm.

I walked downstairs. Josh was home. He was at the table with Randy and my mom and they were all talking.

"Oh, good. Come here," my mom said. "We were just talking about that boy who died, Bob. Some memories Randy had with him and remembering-"

I cut her off. "I'm going outside. I'll be right back." I couldn't be here. Not now.

"What are you-"

I cut her off again. "I just need to be alone for a little and clear my head."

I turned and walked out the front door without giving her a chance to even respond.