// PAUSED \\ goghfk (jfk x van gogh// Clone High )

a new voice

TW// s3w3r s1d3 m3nt1ons

Van gogh sat in his room the lights turned off, he was curled up in a fetal position in the corner of his bed wich was pressed up against the wall.
Tears streamed from van's face as he sniffled and struggled to see through the blurriness of his tear filled eyes.

"I-i don't want to be here anymore" he mumbled wiping away the streams of tears from his large deep green eyes.
"I just want someone, who will love me, and treat me like a human." As soon as he wiped away the tears a new stream of them seemed to apear.
He sat on his bed in the same position propped up on the wall crying everything out, his mom oblivious to his sadness
Van didn't want to be sad, he didn't want to be in constant pain but had no one to reach out and get help from, his mother was going through her own stuff and he felt rather selfish for even thinking about asking his mother for help, he thought it was selfish and disrespectful to belive his problems were more important than those of wich he loved.
As for the kids at his school, he couldn't talk to anyone, no one really knew him, well, they knew his name of course but really who didn't after he became the laughing stock of the whole school after ghandi screwed up his teen crisis hotline call. After that incident, van trusted no one, not even joan who usaly answered his calls and helped him out, no one could be trusted, not to talk to, nothing.
Van gogh desperately wanted help, he was crying out as loud as his little hesrt could yet, no one came to rescue this damsel. He knew that if he tried to remove himself from tjis world then people woulf see that he needs assistance and maybe helo hi. Get oout of the situation he's in but, he just couldn't, he just couldn't leave his mother all alone, he was all she had and, even though she wasn't there for him mentally, deep down he knew that she was all he had to, he just couldn't bare to see her sob over someone so.......useless.....as him.
Van was constantly tearing himself apart, fighting the internal conflict for, he wanted to leave this world, to end it, and never look back, to end his presence, but part of him wanted to get better for his mother and make her proud like he wanted to from day 1. He was constantly fighting the urge to just leave this world with his will to better himself for the ones he loved but, no matter how hard he fought those thoughts they always came back.
Just sitting in his room became torture for van, stuck with these thoughts he most certainly did not want but, what was he to do. He felt guilty bothering his mother, and no one else seemed to care, yea sure there was the teen crisis hotline but he just couldn't risk another Gandhi incident, that had left him more paranoid and scared of people than he ever was before, poor guy.

Van gogh was sitting in his room as the crying began to slow, after crying every night his eyes began to run dry and he was left with a numb feeling, he was sad but, not really, he wanted to cry but, couldn't, this feeling was nothing new to van but still an unpleasant one.
This was about the 4th time this month he had ran dry and fell numb and honestly, van was tired of it, he wasn't one to get angry over practically nothing but he was just fed up with this numb feeling it made him feel stuck and even more useless than he already felt.
"Being sad but no tears is like a rainstorm with not a single rain drop" van mumbled to him self with a sigh. He hated being sad all the time and all the tears he shed but he hated this numb feeling most of all and just needed to feel something else and for some reason today, he decided to make a rather healthy decision, no matter how much he fucking dreaded it, he decided to call the teen crisis hotline.

Van gogh slowly picked his head up and look across his room to a well worn desk that had splashes of oain scattered all over it, on top of this desk lay a turkish blue telephone.
He uncurled himself and whipped one last tear trom his eye and skooted to the edge of his bed were a small shark sutffed animal with matted fur lay. Van picked up this sharky and brought it close to his face and nuzzled it for a while and for a brief while his blank droopy face perked up into a smile as he nuzed the blue sharky but, as soon as he placed the little sharky back on his bed his face bounced back to the sorrow expression he had before.
Van slowly stood up from his bed making sure to pull his shirt down and his sleeves just because they had both began to roll up from being in the position he was in and, without a hurry he began inching towards the phone and the desk, his mind was going a million miles a minute thinking of what could possibly happen if he called that number again, gahdni could answer and humiliate him all over again or maybe it'll just be joan like it used to be and she'll south him or, worst case scenario, it's joan, but she humalistes him like gahdni did and if he dose get humiliated, he most likley won't be as lucky next time and won't be able to get revenge.
With every step he took was another "what if-" that popped into his mind about this call he was about to make, at this point the cons outweighed the pros in his mind, he would much rather feel numb his whole life than be embarrassed one more time the way he was embarrassed when gahdni had answered the call.
The closer he got, he began to shake and hyperventilate like a sick dog. The anxiety was painfull and overwhelming and what was it about, one phone call, that wasn't even made yet. Van pushed through the anxiety and made his way to the desk and placed his bony paint covered hand on the phone amd picked it up with a shakey hand, he diled in the number for the teen crisis hotline, he had jt memorised by now, and put the phone up to his ear.

"Now we wait" he whispered with a quiver in his soft voice.

"Erh.....hello?" A voice on the other end of the call said

"H...hi" van responded

"This is the erh, uh, teen crisis hotline how may we assist you." The voice asked

"Well.....i-....um..." van struggle with his words, something about the voice on the other end seemed so familiar yet so unrecognizable. The voice was calming yet just hearing it intimidated van.

"Who is this" the voice said

"I...it's..its......van gogh" van said in his mellow quiet tone.

"Little, uh, sunflower dude, cooool" the person on the other line stated

What they had just said smacked van right in the face, who called him sunflower dide, and why can he not recognize their voice. This was tearing him apart, like when you know a set of song lyrics but not the name of the song. It was aggravating to van, who was this person, they sounded rather masculine but that didn't mean it was a boy on the other line, the voice also changed tones quite a bit in sentences. This all seemed so obvious byt why couldn't he put his finger on who this was.

"S...sunflower dude???" Van asked them wondering if he could get more info on who they were.

"Uh.....yea, you uh erh, like sunflowers and your erh uh, a mans.....right?" They responded but van still had no clue who this was and had no idea why it was bothering him so much that he couldn't recognize their voice.

"So, uh. Why are ya callin so late at night sun erh uh, flower mans"
Van hesitated to answer, something about this voice he was hearing on the other lines ysve him butterflies in his tummy and made his knees feel week as if he had been standing for days on end.
"Um.....well I've been feelin kinda...well...., i-" van stimbled over his words, something about the other person made him nervous to speak as if he needed to impress this person, whoever they were, more than anyone else in his life.

"Erh...van gogh, das your name right?...ok, take your time speaking, o'l JFK's got all the time fowa you, but erh uh, please hurry, so i can lay back down with joan again she ih, said that ah, i couldn't get back in the erh uh, bed, unless i helped with the crisis hotline."

".......jfk" van wispered softly shoving yhe ohone away from him as his faced turned ruby red and a faint smile appearing on his face.

"But, ....no, he's with joan" can's smile vanished and he let out a loud sigh.

"I uh....gotta go" he panicked to say before slamming the phone down and throwing himself on the bed.

"Can't belive I'm in love with jfk!!!" He threw his hands over his head
"Out of all people, why him, he's got so many girls" van whipped  tear from his eye
"Probably doesn't even like boys......or outside of the.....incident, he probably doesn't even know me" van paused for a minute.......
Van quickly sat up with a sudden serge of enthusiasm.
"But....he called me sunflower boy so....., hopes not all lost!"