The Deadman ✔

Chapter Nine

Hey guys, really sorry about this but the remaining chapters are probably going to be a mix of shorter chapters, I'm talking like 1000-1500 words instead my usual 2200+ words, with a few usual ones in between. 

It's been so long since I started this book my motivation has gone downhill and this book isn't really popular anyway, otherwise I'd push myself to do more instead of being a shitty little gremlin author.

Sorry for this, I know it's disappointing to a lot of you but I'm doing this instead of discontinuing it, and I think that's better?

You are going to have a baby, take care of it. Can you tell me that you cannot smile? Think of the baby, and smile for him, for her, for the future generations. Please don't tell me that a smile and your sorrow just don't go together. It's your sorrow, but what about your baby? It's not his sorrow, its not her sorrow.
-Thich Nhat Hanh

"Might fuck around and let nature reclaim me." Is how I used to tell my cousins "I want to be reckless and die."

CJ would joke that I'm going feral after I said it, Engel would smile at me and asked if I wanted him to lie in the dirt with me.

Now going through that is as simple as staying silent.

But now, it feels like a weight is lifted off my chest because any time I want, I can walk into Sip 'n Dip and see my friends. 

Any time I need to, I can call Teddy and talk about anything.

"The scientific researches say that by the pull of gravity, we're all attracted to each other." I tell Chip, who makes a face. 

It's become a daily thing to stop by in the morning before work or seeing Violet when any of them have a shift.

"Hey Atti," Luke nudges me. "I'm attracted to you."

Chip whistles at his best friend, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Hey idiot, my foot's attracted to your ass."

They're the only ones here, Kayla being at a college class and Teddy is probably still sleeping. I'm going to see him later.

"As absolutely interesting as this conversation is, I should get going." I wave to them with my coffee cup, they wave back before seamlessly going back to arguing with one another.

These guys are so dorky, I love it.

Climbing into my truck I head straight to Violet's house and pick her up.

"You know Violet," I say quietly. "Things tend to come apart really easily if they're held together by lies, even if it's emotional lies or you're just lying to yourself."

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"I mean I know you're not homophobic and I know you're bisexual too, you're just too scared to tell your friends that. It's not right you let yourself interact with people who force harmful biases on you."

Quietly, with her arms holding herself, Violet tells me, "I don't really want to be around them. Not as much as I am."

"There's no harm in telling them that."

"You don't know that." Nonnie sighs. "They're so... stupid."

Shrugging, I keep focus on the road. "You're the one that doesn't tell them not to act stupid and goes along with it all."

She stays silent.

I know damn well that self-destruction doesn't always look like cutting or hurting yourself, it doesn't always look like someone wanting to kill themselves or dark circles under their eyes when they tell you they have insomnia. 

Because sometimes it's getting high even when you know it will give you panic attacks, or drinking in a place you're not safe because you don't care what happens. 

Sometimes its eating something you're only slightly allergic to or not taking your medicine on time. It's crossing the street without looking or texting while driving. 

It's not getting rid of toxic friends. 

And it's burning yourself in the shower or letting someone use your body. It's not looking in the mirror and still calling yourself cruel names, it's when you call yourself stupid and only pretend not to mean it. 

Just like what Violet's doing, it's avoiding all your problems even when you know they won't go away, it's lying to your therapist. 

It's not drinking enough water or not eating until your hands start shaking. 

Self destruction isn't this cute little quirk only teenage girls have, it's not just sad people cutting themselves, it not just someone being sad and picking at a scab. 

It doesn't always have any physical consequences either. 

Sometimes self harm is masked as little things that mean nothing, because hey, these are things that only happen once, right? 

It's seen in things that people never assume makes someone depressed or destructive. 

So someone could be self-harming and not know it themselves, and even more than that other people won't notice their suffering either because it's not the typical visuals people imagine when they hear 'depression'.

And I have no idea what Violet's going through with the pregnancy and her shitty ass friends.

But at least now I know it's not my responsibility to care either, it's only my responsibility to care about the baby and that it's a safe pregnancy. If she wants shitty friends only to regret staying around for them then that's on her.

It's common knowledge to Teddy at this point that I absolutely love reading, and will take any opportunity to collect thick hard covers or leather bound books.

One of my favorite things about the old leather books is that when they have breaking spines and pealing letters, when you open it and can smell the decaying wood, it doesn't lose it's value. In fact, it gains some.

And to fix it would be to ruin it's authenticity, instead of preserve it.

My favorite thing to do with Teddy after a particularly rough week is to just make a fake bed on the floor of my room in front of my fire place- -that he may or may not be afraid to add logs to and squeaks adorably at when he gets to close to it- -and just read together.

He can't stay up as late as me, so I read aloud to him until he falls asleep or interrupts me with a kiss.

But I also know that I'm dating Theodore Hayes, who is kinda dyslexic, can't hold a book and turn the pages with one hand and gets all adorably stammery if he tries to read to me. He never got the appeal of reading, at least not when he was the one doing it.

It's the part of this time that he's close to me, when he's pressed into my side and able to kiss me whenever.

It's the knowing with a single hand on my thigh, tug on my wrist or twist of his lips he can distract me enough that I forget I was ever reading in the first place because my everything becomes him.

That's what's appealing to Teddy.

So it's during one of these times that I ask him to move in with me.

And it's at the end of this night, with him pressed into my side and a book laying discarded worryingly close, forgotten about, next to a fire place when he says yes.