Last chapter
Title: Breakdown
Author:
sarahhwithanh
Chapter:7/7
Rating: R
Paring: Pierre/David
Summary: Pierre thinks David deserves to die, David agrees. So why is it then when Pierre finds David about ready to shoot himself he stops him?
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't know.
Chapter one - Me and the Moon
Chapter two - Slipping Away
Chapter three - Wounded
Chapter four - Hold on
Chapter five - The Truth About Heaven
Chapter six - Save Yourself
Chapter seven: Antidote For Irony
David
Two weeks have passed and things haven’t changed. I’m still John’s favorite play thing. Every night he comes home in a drunken stupor and has his way with me. Once done he leaves me there like always, bleeding and broken. I hate to say that I have gotten used to it, because it’s something no one should ever get used to, yet it has become routine.
I don’t find killing myself an option any longer. I want… I need to get away from here. I know though that there is no future for me out there. A future is for people with loving families, people with money and dreams, not a broken orphan with out a home.
It’s five am and I wake up with the same indifferent feeling I’ve always had. I have school today, but that doesn’t change anything. I find myself hoping that Pierre will be coming back. Jake is back and angrier than ever, I try to keep out of his way, but sometimes things don’t work out how we like them. But with every beating all I become is numb. Maybe its better I’ve become some kind of robot that people use for their sadistic pleasures, after all someone needs to do it.
I arrive at school around six thirty and I’m the only one there, which is expected, who in their right mind would show up to school more than an hour before it starts. I’m grateful for the lack of people and the silence. I need time to think, I need time to breathe with out worrying that it might be cut short or that it might be my last.
I find myself missing my mom during these quiet times. How childish have I become? How weak am I? Shouldn’t I have gotten over it already? I wish I could find the power to get over her, the power to move on; it has been a month after all.
“Вре́мя - лу́чший до́ктор.”
Time heals all wounds.
I just hope mine aren’t too deep.
Sometimes I wonder why people like me were given a life like this. Have I done something exceptionally bad and I’m just getting punished? Was I supposed to live out my whole life like this? Will I ever see the light at the end of the tunnel that will be leading me out of this hell and into another one?
“Вся́кому о́вощу своё вре́мя.”
A Russian proverb that means every vegetable has its time.
When will the time for my life to be good come?
I’m brought out of my thinking when the first bell rings. I gather my school bag and stand. Heading into the school I notice that something is very different. Whispers surround the main halls. I disregard them knowing that they are not about me. After all, more than half the school’s population doesn’t know I’m alive. I’m heading to my locker when I spot Pierre. That’s when I know something is terribly wrong. He looks like death, not his usual healthy self. He’s silent and distant, taking small step with his eyes fixed on the ground and his hands in his pocket.
I was hoping to see him, but I’ve never wanted to see him in such a state of disarray. I want to go and talk to him but I know that I am the cause of all these problems. I knew that talking to him will only further ruin his life, after all, he has lost his best friend and there is nothing worst.
I avoid both Pierre and Jake for the whole day. I had a feeling that things will soon be going back to normal. I’m not worth any of this trouble.
After school I don’t head home, instead I take the same path to the park. Following the same routine that I have taken up since her death.
With my hands in my pocket, I walk slowly until I reach my destination. Placing my backpack besides the sand box I take small steps and sit down on one of the swings with a book in hand. I’ve always rather enjoyed reading but never truly got the right environment to read. School is too loud and home is too hectic. I got lost in the book and soon it was dark to the point where I wasn’t capable of making out the words. With a sigh I get off the swing and get my backpack.
I sling the backpack over my shoulder and look around the stranded dark park. I sigh and head towards the nearest drinking fountain, throat dry from the lack of talking for the past four or more hours. I run a hand through my hair, pushing it back before bending over the fountain to get a drink.
With my hand firmly holding on to my backpack strap, I make my way down the pathway so I can start heading home. I walk with my hand in my pocket, my eyes focused on the ground, and a prayer in my heart.
“Hey you!” A familiar voice calls from behind me.
Startled, I turn to look at the owner of the voice. “Pierre?”
He doesn’t say anymore, instead he starts making his way towards me. His steps are heavy and unstable, his swaying a tell tale sign that he had been drinking. Frightened, I step back opposite of him as he nears.
“Ya know, I don’t get it.” He laughs once with in hearing distance.
“Get what?” The hold I have on my bag strap tightens.
“Why you people kill yourself.”
I don’t respond. I know better than to reason with a drunk. “I can guess why you would do it…” He slurs and then pauses as though trying to find the right words. ”Your life is shit.”
He chuckles bitterly and slumps into a bench. “Why would Evan do it?”
“Your Brother?” I mutter.
“His life isn’t shit. If his life were shit, mine would be shit.” He turns to look at me. “Ya know what David I shouldn’t have stopped you from killing yourself.”
Before I have a chance to ask him why he continues.
“You shoulda offed yourself just like your mom did. Cause the world is shit.”
I grind my teeth and concentrate on the asphalt. “Yeah, maybe Evan knew that. Yeah. He did. The world is shit and we should just all kill ourselves.”
“No, we shouldn’t.” I say barely audible.
“Oh and why not, you seemed so keen on the idea only a month ago.”
“I... I…” I try to talk but he stops me amidst my struggle.
“I got a gun somewhere on me…” he mumbles looking clumsily through his jacket. “And when I find it, I’m going to find out what’s so great about death. ’Cause no one wants to tell me.”
“Pierre you’re drunk you don’t want to do this.” I try to reason with him against my better judgment.
“They say that when drunk 99 percent, or something like that, of what you say is the truth. Want to know the truth?”
I shake my head. “Pierre you need to get home.”
“I don’t want to go home! All their doing there is yelling at each other.” He pouts, childishly crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey David will John kill you if you stay with me?”
I shrug. “No.” With that I sit down beside him on the bench.
“Since I’m going to kill myself I should confess everything to you.”
I shake my head. “You’re not going to kill yourself Pierre. You’re going to sober up and all of this will just be a mistake that you’ll soon forget.”
“Why shouldn’t I kill myself? I’m going to die any way ain’t I?”
I shake my head. “Pierre please give me the gun.”
He ignores my words and just goes into an almost dream like state as he speaks. “It would be really easy too. I take the safety off.” And he does so. “Then I point the gun to my head.” He does that too. “And BANG! I’m done.”
“And what will you accomplish with that. Boo hoo my life sucks so I’m going to kill myself?!”
“Stop being so fucking hypocritical David!” He shouts now standing and towering over me.
“Hypocrisy seems to be the only thing keeping both of us alive at the moment! Weren’t you the one just a month ago in this very spot telling me that I shouldn’t kill myself? It’s almost poetic.”
“Well, you don’t deserve to die! Fuck! If anyone deserves a good life it’s you!”
“You’re the one who told me everyone deserves to live or does that not apply to you?”
“Shut the hell up David, you have no clue what it’s like!”
“What’s what like? What it’s like to wake up every morning wishing you didn’t? What it’s like to walk around knowing you’re just a waste of space? What it’s like to know that your mom killed herself just for you! What it’s like to live knowing you have nothing left! What it’s like to live on just because someone showed you a shred of hope, some one told you that things were finally going to be alright? No, Pierre, you’re the one who has no clue what its like.”
“You think you’re the only one who’s living in a shit hole. Yeah David I’ll give you that. Your life fucking sucks. Your life is shit. But you know what! Mine ain’t that great.” He stumbles a bit around looking lost before sitting back down. “Do you know what its like to think that you’re living the dream life? That every thing is perfect. Perfect friends, perfect family, perfect life. But nothing is perfect, everything is so fucked up that I’ve somehow managed to push all that away. I want the perfect life. And you know what! In my perfect life my mom isn’t cheating on my dad. In my perfect life my brother doesn’t hate me! In my perfect life my brother didn’t just fucking blow his brains out.” His gun slips from his grip. “In my perfect life I didn’t push away the only person, the only friend, that I’ve ever cared for. In my perfect life I didn’t beat up the one person that can actually help me. In my perfect life I didn’t abandon the one person that I love when he needed me the most. In my perfect world I’m not a fucking hypocritical FAG!”
And with out a thought in my head, my hand grips the back of his head and presses his lips to mine firmly. He is surprised as much as I am and he doesn’t respond. I pull away and take a deep breath before standing up.
“I think I should go now.” I mutter simply picking up the gun and my back pack before making my way down the familiar path that will lead me home. Because run away is what I will always do when someone gets too close. And I’m starting to fall for Pierre all over again.
Chapter Seven: Breakdown
Pierre
11:32pm
I've seen a man cry.
I've seen a man shoutout,
afraid losing the woman he loves.
I've seen a woman lying
to her man flat out,
'bout who she's been with
and where she was.
I've seen 'em both fight,
and try to figure it out.
This fight isn't going anywhere
I've seen a child's eyes
watching his parents freak out.
I know they see him but they just don't care.
I sit in my shower with the water strongly beating down on my head. I cannot find the power to get up and out. I’ve been sobbing and I just stop. I’m still hiccupping from the fit. My sobs are quiet and drowned out by the sound of running water. I have no will to get out. When did my life get so complicated? When did I lose all hope? I’m a pathetic mess. A grown man sitting in his shower crying. I don’t cry. Crying is for little boys with scraped knees, crying is for faggots. I am a faggot.
What have I got against homosexuality any way?
Nothing, I’m just a hypocrite. David was right. Right about me, right about us, right about everything. He’s always been right, he always is right.
Yeah, I didn’t know what it was like to wake up every morning wishing I didn’t. I do now and I wish I never found out. I’m tired of my life. I’m so tired. Tired of being worthless, tired of being alone, tired of being me. Who am I? I once thought I knew but I’ve now come to realize that all I have been is a pretty façade. A pretty façade that’s mediocre at everything it does. I have no true skill no true talent. I float aimlessly hoping for a sign of some place I can land. Only I know that a landing space is only ever going to be a figment of my imagination. An unrealizable dream, an unfeasible future.
There has been a time where I truly believed that my life was perfect. There has been a time where my family was perfect. There has been a time where everything was perfect. At least in my eyes. But I guess what they say about nothing ever being perfect, about nothing ever staying gold, is the reality that I sooner or later had to face. Now that I have faced it I wish I haven’t. I wasn’t ready and I still am not.
It won't stop if they don't stop yelling.
It's not the way of working your problems out.
I can't stand being around this yelling
so I'm finding my way out.
I close my eyes and lean my head back so I can feel the water beat down on my face. I feel like shit and I can't do anything about it and no one can do anything about it and I feel so hopeless and it sucks because I've never been powerless I'm supposed to have all the answers I shouldn’t be asking the questions. How am I supposed to help him if I can’t help myself? Who’s going to help me? Is anyone going to show me any signs of better times? Have I lived up all my good times and is this all that is left?
I’m tired of this self pity and all this shit. I’m tired of life, I’m tired of death, I’m tired of school, I’m tired of family, I’m tired of friends, I’m tired of this town, I’m tired of suicide, I’m tired of drugs, I’m tired of… I’m tired.
Toweling my hair dry I step out of the foggy bathroom. Upon entering my room I throw the towel on the ground and lie down on my bed. Not bothering to pull on anything more than the pair of boxers I was wearing, I slowly start to drift off into sleep. Maybe once I wake up what happened will all become a distant memory.
When I do awake, I am rather disappointed. The only things on my mind are David’s words and the feel of his lips against mine. I shake my head in attempt to free it from these thoughts. My attempt is hopeless. David’s words flood my mind and I can’t help but think of him.
I run a hand through my hair and struggle out of bed. Lack of interest in life and lack of motivation makes getting out of bed a chore.
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
“Good morning honey.” My mom greets in a monotonous voice that she has adapted since Evan’s death.
“Morning.” I mumble running a hand through my hair as I stumble into the clean kitchen. I pour myself a mug of scolding hot coffee and sit at the table across from my silent father.
He peers over his own mug and says. “Hello Pierre.”
I nod at him and the blank stare crowds his features. Jason runs down the stairs and, without glancing at any of us, heads for the door.
“Jason sweetheart…” My mom turns to him with a pleading look. “Your father and I would like to speak to you boys for a moment.” Jason scoffs and sits besides me while I simply shrug.
Mom takes a deep breath and sits next to Dad. “As you boys know, our family has been experiencing hardships these past two weeks…”
Jason interrupts her with a sneer. “Well I wonder who’d fault that is.”
“We are all at fault.”
Another loud laugh emitted from his mouth. “Yeah. Cause I’m the whore who cheated on her husband.”
“Jason! Do not speak to your mother like that.”
“Grow a fucking spine Dad.” Jay spits out bitterly. “She fucking cheated on you. Have a back bone. Leave her sorry…”
Mom is the one to interrupt. “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.” He sighs and walks out the back door.
I just nod my head and stand up. Without glancing back I head to my room. Upon entering my room something seems to be triggered with in me. I collapse to the ground huge tears run down my cheek and once again I am reduced to a sobbing mess. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so broken in my whole life.
I've seen a child’s eyes.
I've seen him living in doubt.
Not ever knowing what it's like to be in love.
I've seen his friends try
just to help him get out.
he never told them what the problem really was.
I've seen a suicide.
he couldn't figure it out.
He blamed himself because they couldn't get along.
I've seen his parents eyes
trying to figure it out.
Where did our baby go and what went wrong?
--
It takes a while for me to regain my composer and that’s when I head downstairs. My parents are no longer in the kitchen and I cannot help but feel thankful. I grab my car keys and head out the front door. I need to get away.
Jason is sitting on the front porch a cigarette stuck firmly between his lips. “You smoke?” I ask not at all surprised. He doesn’t look up at me, instead he wipes at his eyes and plucks out his cigarette exhaling.
“Our family is falling apart.” I mutter and he laughs. A bitter laugh that cuts through me like a knife. I sigh and sit down besides him. “Do you think Evan saw it?”
Another laugh. “Of course. I saw it. Evan saw it. You would have seen it too had you not had your head shoved so far up your ass.”
“Why are you attacking me?”
“Because you were so freaking blind.” He shakes his head and takes a shaky breath. “Maybe if you all weren’t so fucking blind Evan wouldn’t have had to do what he did. Maybe you guys would have been able to help ‘cause I sure made no difference.” He smashes his fist into the ground causing me to jump.
“Did he leave a note or anything? Mom said he didn’t but I know if he did he wouldn’t leave it for them.”
Another bitter laugh bites through the air. “You’re at least right about one thing. No, he didn’t leave one for Mom or Dad. He left one for you though.” Jason runs a hand through his hair. Shaking his head he adds. “Ya know… I let him do it.”
“What?”
“Yeah… I knew he wanted to. It’s just so weird how it worked out. At first I tried to stop him. I really did. Day in and day out I practically babysat him. Then for a little while he seemed like he was going to be fine. He was eating normally again. He just went back to how he always was. Then one day he came to me. Handed me two letters and left. That’s the same night the cops came and told us.
I didn’t read the letter until I left that night. He explained everything and by the time his funeral rolled around I couldn’t blame his decision any more. I guess I realized how selfish I was being by telling him he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t happy anymore. It hurt, yeah. What hurt the most was that I couldn’t make him happy. He’s my brother for fuck’s sake. I should have been at least able to help him. But I guess I just couldn’t. But I still love him and I just hope he can forgive me.”
It won't stop if they don't stop yelling
it's not the way of working your problems out.
I can't stand being around this yelling
so i'm finding my way out.
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
I bite my lip. Hardly able to comprehend all that was surrounding me. “Here.” Jason drops a letter in my lap and heads to his car. I watch him as he drives into the sunset and for some reason I know he won’t be coming back.
I open the letter and I stare down at its creased stature. I sigh and attempted to read the tear stained paper, the darkening sky my only source of light.
Hey kiddo,
If Jason gave you this letter it means that you and him have finally sat down and talked. I would have loved to see that happen but my circumstances just didn’t allow that. I hope I didn’t royally fuck up everyone’s life by doing what I did. And I really, really hope that you aren’t super pissed at me. Something in the back of my mind is telling me that maybe I should apologize for what I did, what I’m about to do, but the thing is, it just feels so right. I know I won’t regret this. Don’t kill yourself over this… haha sorry just a bit of dark humor to lighten the mood. Don’t worry about me kiddo I’ll be watching over you while you read this and if you’re sad I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life. So this may sound so freaking hypocritical but you’re not screwed up like I am… so… I want you to live your life. I want you to do that one thing you always thought was wrong but felt so right. Stay close to those you love and love you back. Don’t push anyone away. Bye kid.
-Evan.
--
There are always times in a person’s life where he becomes really confused. Times where a person doubts who he is to the point where he doesn’t even know who he is, times where a person will wander around aimlessly with an empty feeling inside that will tear him apart, that will devour him whole. These times often come and go, but sometimes it will stick and that person will feel like his life has become a long series of breakdowns.
Times like these will make a man wish that the very life he’s been given by God would be taken away. Times like these will shape the man. Times like these will prepare him for a life full of hardships. Times like these are unavoidable. Times like these….
Some people will go through life thinking that these times will never reach them. That’s what I believed a month ago. I believed that I could live the perfect life. Why wouldn’t I be? I worked hard for it. My parents worked hard for it. My brothers worked hard for it. But alas Evan was not one capable of surviving the breakdowns. Evan knew that life was one huge challenge. Evan knew that he couldn’t survive it.
Sometimes I feel so angry with him. Why would he do that? Now I know. He wasn’t strong enough and he knew that. David thought he wasn’t strong enough…. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really strong enough. I know I’m not. As long as life goes on the breakdowns and hard ships will continue. And as David said running away won’t solve anything. At least not in our case.
So for me now, all I can do is live my life. Live through my breakdowns and maybe help David through his.
--
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and dial David’s number, surprised that I still know it and hope that John wouldn’t be the one answering.
“Hello?’
“Hey, David?”
“This is he…”
“This is Pierre. I was wondering. Would you like to go to dinner?”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah, a date.”
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Author:
sarahhwithanh
Chapter:7/7
Rating: R
Paring: Pierre/David
Summary: Pierre thinks David deserves to die, David agrees. So why is it then when Pierre finds David about ready to shoot himself he stops him?
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't know.
Chapter one - Me and the Moon
Chapter two - Slipping Away
Chapter three - Wounded
Chapter four - Hold on
Chapter five - The Truth About Heaven
Chapter six - Save Yourself
Chapter seven: Antidote For Irony
David
Two weeks have passed and things haven’t changed. I’m still John’s favorite play thing. Every night he comes home in a drunken stupor and has his way with me. Once done he leaves me there like always, bleeding and broken. I hate to say that I have gotten used to it, because it’s something no one should ever get used to, yet it has become routine.
I don’t find killing myself an option any longer. I want… I need to get away from here. I know though that there is no future for me out there. A future is for people with loving families, people with money and dreams, not a broken orphan with out a home.
It’s five am and I wake up with the same indifferent feeling I’ve always had. I have school today, but that doesn’t change anything. I find myself hoping that Pierre will be coming back. Jake is back and angrier than ever, I try to keep out of his way, but sometimes things don’t work out how we like them. But with every beating all I become is numb. Maybe its better I’ve become some kind of robot that people use for their sadistic pleasures, after all someone needs to do it.
I arrive at school around six thirty and I’m the only one there, which is expected, who in their right mind would show up to school more than an hour before it starts. I’m grateful for the lack of people and the silence. I need time to think, I need time to breathe with out worrying that it might be cut short or that it might be my last.
I find myself missing my mom during these quiet times. How childish have I become? How weak am I? Shouldn’t I have gotten over it already? I wish I could find the power to get over her, the power to move on; it has been a month after all.
“Вре́мя - лу́чший до́ктор.”
Time heals all wounds.
I just hope mine aren’t too deep.
Sometimes I wonder why people like me were given a life like this. Have I done something exceptionally bad and I’m just getting punished? Was I supposed to live out my whole life like this? Will I ever see the light at the end of the tunnel that will be leading me out of this hell and into another one?
“Вся́кому о́вощу своё вре́мя.”
A Russian proverb that means every vegetable has its time.
When will the time for my life to be good come?
I’m brought out of my thinking when the first bell rings. I gather my school bag and stand. Heading into the school I notice that something is very different. Whispers surround the main halls. I disregard them knowing that they are not about me. After all, more than half the school’s population doesn’t know I’m alive. I’m heading to my locker when I spot Pierre. That’s when I know something is terribly wrong. He looks like death, not his usual healthy self. He’s silent and distant, taking small step with his eyes fixed on the ground and his hands in his pocket.
I was hoping to see him, but I’ve never wanted to see him in such a state of disarray. I want to go and talk to him but I know that I am the cause of all these problems. I knew that talking to him will only further ruin his life, after all, he has lost his best friend and there is nothing worst.
I avoid both Pierre and Jake for the whole day. I had a feeling that things will soon be going back to normal. I’m not worth any of this trouble.
After school I don’t head home, instead I take the same path to the park. Following the same routine that I have taken up since her death.
With my hands in my pocket, I walk slowly until I reach my destination. Placing my backpack besides the sand box I take small steps and sit down on one of the swings with a book in hand. I’ve always rather enjoyed reading but never truly got the right environment to read. School is too loud and home is too hectic. I got lost in the book and soon it was dark to the point where I wasn’t capable of making out the words. With a sigh I get off the swing and get my backpack.
I sling the backpack over my shoulder and look around the stranded dark park. I sigh and head towards the nearest drinking fountain, throat dry from the lack of talking for the past four or more hours. I run a hand through my hair, pushing it back before bending over the fountain to get a drink.
With my hand firmly holding on to my backpack strap, I make my way down the pathway so I can start heading home. I walk with my hand in my pocket, my eyes focused on the ground, and a prayer in my heart.
“Hey you!” A familiar voice calls from behind me.
Startled, I turn to look at the owner of the voice. “Pierre?”
He doesn’t say anymore, instead he starts making his way towards me. His steps are heavy and unstable, his swaying a tell tale sign that he had been drinking. Frightened, I step back opposite of him as he nears.
“Ya know, I don’t get it.” He laughs once with in hearing distance.
“Get what?” The hold I have on my bag strap tightens.
“Why you people kill yourself.”
I don’t respond. I know better than to reason with a drunk. “I can guess why you would do it…” He slurs and then pauses as though trying to find the right words. ”Your life is shit.”
He chuckles bitterly and slumps into a bench. “Why would Evan do it?”
“Your Brother?” I mutter.
“His life isn’t shit. If his life were shit, mine would be shit.” He turns to look at me. “Ya know what David I shouldn’t have stopped you from killing yourself.”
Before I have a chance to ask him why he continues.
“You shoulda offed yourself just like your mom did. Cause the world is shit.”
I grind my teeth and concentrate on the asphalt. “Yeah, maybe Evan knew that. Yeah. He did. The world is shit and we should just all kill ourselves.”
“No, we shouldn’t.” I say barely audible.
“Oh and why not, you seemed so keen on the idea only a month ago.”
“I... I…” I try to talk but he stops me amidst my struggle.
“I got a gun somewhere on me…” he mumbles looking clumsily through his jacket. “And when I find it, I’m going to find out what’s so great about death. ’Cause no one wants to tell me.”
“Pierre you’re drunk you don’t want to do this.” I try to reason with him against my better judgment.
“They say that when drunk 99 percent, or something like that, of what you say is the truth. Want to know the truth?”
I shake my head. “Pierre you need to get home.”
“I don’t want to go home! All their doing there is yelling at each other.” He pouts, childishly crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey David will John kill you if you stay with me?”
I shrug. “No.” With that I sit down beside him on the bench.
“Since I’m going to kill myself I should confess everything to you.”
I shake my head. “You’re not going to kill yourself Pierre. You’re going to sober up and all of this will just be a mistake that you’ll soon forget.”
“Why shouldn’t I kill myself? I’m going to die any way ain’t I?”
I shake my head. “Pierre please give me the gun.”
He ignores my words and just goes into an almost dream like state as he speaks. “It would be really easy too. I take the safety off.” And he does so. “Then I point the gun to my head.” He does that too. “And BANG! I’m done.”
“And what will you accomplish with that. Boo hoo my life sucks so I’m going to kill myself?!”
“Stop being so fucking hypocritical David!” He shouts now standing and towering over me.
“Hypocrisy seems to be the only thing keeping both of us alive at the moment! Weren’t you the one just a month ago in this very spot telling me that I shouldn’t kill myself? It’s almost poetic.”
“Well, you don’t deserve to die! Fuck! If anyone deserves a good life it’s you!”
“You’re the one who told me everyone deserves to live or does that not apply to you?”
“Shut the hell up David, you have no clue what it’s like!”
“What’s what like? What it’s like to wake up every morning wishing you didn’t? What it’s like to walk around knowing you’re just a waste of space? What it’s like to know that your mom killed herself just for you! What it’s like to live knowing you have nothing left! What it’s like to live on just because someone showed you a shred of hope, some one told you that things were finally going to be alright? No, Pierre, you’re the one who has no clue what its like.”
“You think you’re the only one who’s living in a shit hole. Yeah David I’ll give you that. Your life fucking sucks. Your life is shit. But you know what! Mine ain’t that great.” He stumbles a bit around looking lost before sitting back down. “Do you know what its like to think that you’re living the dream life? That every thing is perfect. Perfect friends, perfect family, perfect life. But nothing is perfect, everything is so fucked up that I’ve somehow managed to push all that away. I want the perfect life. And you know what! In my perfect life my mom isn’t cheating on my dad. In my perfect life my brother doesn’t hate me! In my perfect life my brother didn’t just fucking blow his brains out.” His gun slips from his grip. “In my perfect life I didn’t push away the only person, the only friend, that I’ve ever cared for. In my perfect life I didn’t beat up the one person that can actually help me. In my perfect life I didn’t abandon the one person that I love when he needed me the most. In my perfect world I’m not a fucking hypocritical FAG!”
And with out a thought in my head, my hand grips the back of his head and presses his lips to mine firmly. He is surprised as much as I am and he doesn’t respond. I pull away and take a deep breath before standing up.
“I think I should go now.” I mutter simply picking up the gun and my back pack before making my way down the familiar path that will lead me home. Because run away is what I will always do when someone gets too close. And I’m starting to fall for Pierre all over again.
Chapter Seven: Breakdown
Pierre
11:32pm
I've seen a man cry.
I've seen a man shoutout,
afraid losing the woman he loves.
I've seen a woman lying
to her man flat out,
'bout who she's been with
and where she was.
I've seen 'em both fight,
and try to figure it out.
This fight isn't going anywhere
I've seen a child's eyes
watching his parents freak out.
I know they see him but they just don't care.
I sit in my shower with the water strongly beating down on my head. I cannot find the power to get up and out. I’ve been sobbing and I just stop. I’m still hiccupping from the fit. My sobs are quiet and drowned out by the sound of running water. I have no will to get out. When did my life get so complicated? When did I lose all hope? I’m a pathetic mess. A grown man sitting in his shower crying. I don’t cry. Crying is for little boys with scraped knees, crying is for faggots. I am a faggot.
What have I got against homosexuality any way?
Nothing, I’m just a hypocrite. David was right. Right about me, right about us, right about everything. He’s always been right, he always is right.
Yeah, I didn’t know what it was like to wake up every morning wishing I didn’t. I do now and I wish I never found out. I’m tired of my life. I’m so tired. Tired of being worthless, tired of being alone, tired of being me. Who am I? I once thought I knew but I’ve now come to realize that all I have been is a pretty façade. A pretty façade that’s mediocre at everything it does. I have no true skill no true talent. I float aimlessly hoping for a sign of some place I can land. Only I know that a landing space is only ever going to be a figment of my imagination. An unrealizable dream, an unfeasible future.
There has been a time where I truly believed that my life was perfect. There has been a time where my family was perfect. There has been a time where everything was perfect. At least in my eyes. But I guess what they say about nothing ever being perfect, about nothing ever staying gold, is the reality that I sooner or later had to face. Now that I have faced it I wish I haven’t. I wasn’t ready and I still am not.
It won't stop if they don't stop yelling.
It's not the way of working your problems out.
I can't stand being around this yelling
so I'm finding my way out.
I close my eyes and lean my head back so I can feel the water beat down on my face. I feel like shit and I can't do anything about it and no one can do anything about it and I feel so hopeless and it sucks because I've never been powerless I'm supposed to have all the answers I shouldn’t be asking the questions. How am I supposed to help him if I can’t help myself? Who’s going to help me? Is anyone going to show me any signs of better times? Have I lived up all my good times and is this all that is left?
I’m tired of this self pity and all this shit. I’m tired of life, I’m tired of death, I’m tired of school, I’m tired of family, I’m tired of friends, I’m tired of this town, I’m tired of suicide, I’m tired of drugs, I’m tired of… I’m tired.
Toweling my hair dry I step out of the foggy bathroom. Upon entering my room I throw the towel on the ground and lie down on my bed. Not bothering to pull on anything more than the pair of boxers I was wearing, I slowly start to drift off into sleep. Maybe once I wake up what happened will all become a distant memory.
When I do awake, I am rather disappointed. The only things on my mind are David’s words and the feel of his lips against mine. I shake my head in attempt to free it from these thoughts. My attempt is hopeless. David’s words flood my mind and I can’t help but think of him.
I run a hand through my hair and struggle out of bed. Lack of interest in life and lack of motivation makes getting out of bed a chore.
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
“Good morning honey.” My mom greets in a monotonous voice that she has adapted since Evan’s death.
“Morning.” I mumble running a hand through my hair as I stumble into the clean kitchen. I pour myself a mug of scolding hot coffee and sit at the table across from my silent father.
He peers over his own mug and says. “Hello Pierre.”
I nod at him and the blank stare crowds his features. Jason runs down the stairs and, without glancing at any of us, heads for the door.
“Jason sweetheart…” My mom turns to him with a pleading look. “Your father and I would like to speak to you boys for a moment.” Jason scoffs and sits besides me while I simply shrug.
Mom takes a deep breath and sits next to Dad. “As you boys know, our family has been experiencing hardships these past two weeks…”
Jason interrupts her with a sneer. “Well I wonder who’d fault that is.”
“We are all at fault.”
Another loud laugh emitted from his mouth. “Yeah. Cause I’m the whore who cheated on her husband.”
“Jason! Do not speak to your mother like that.”
“Grow a fucking spine Dad.” Jay spits out bitterly. “She fucking cheated on you. Have a back bone. Leave her sorry…”
Mom is the one to interrupt. “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.” He sighs and walks out the back door.
I just nod my head and stand up. Without glancing back I head to my room. Upon entering my room something seems to be triggered with in me. I collapse to the ground huge tears run down my cheek and once again I am reduced to a sobbing mess. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so broken in my whole life.
I've seen a child’s eyes.
I've seen him living in doubt.
Not ever knowing what it's like to be in love.
I've seen his friends try
just to help him get out.
he never told them what the problem really was.
I've seen a suicide.
he couldn't figure it out.
He blamed himself because they couldn't get along.
I've seen his parents eyes
trying to figure it out.
Where did our baby go and what went wrong?
--
It takes a while for me to regain my composer and that’s when I head downstairs. My parents are no longer in the kitchen and I cannot help but feel thankful. I grab my car keys and head out the front door. I need to get away.
Jason is sitting on the front porch a cigarette stuck firmly between his lips. “You smoke?” I ask not at all surprised. He doesn’t look up at me, instead he wipes at his eyes and plucks out his cigarette exhaling.
“Our family is falling apart.” I mutter and he laughs. A bitter laugh that cuts through me like a knife. I sigh and sit down besides him. “Do you think Evan saw it?”
Another laugh. “Of course. I saw it. Evan saw it. You would have seen it too had you not had your head shoved so far up your ass.”
“Why are you attacking me?”
“Because you were so freaking blind.” He shakes his head and takes a shaky breath. “Maybe if you all weren’t so fucking blind Evan wouldn’t have had to do what he did. Maybe you guys would have been able to help ‘cause I sure made no difference.” He smashes his fist into the ground causing me to jump.
“Did he leave a note or anything? Mom said he didn’t but I know if he did he wouldn’t leave it for them.”
Another bitter laugh bites through the air. “You’re at least right about one thing. No, he didn’t leave one for Mom or Dad. He left one for you though.” Jason runs a hand through his hair. Shaking his head he adds. “Ya know… I let him do it.”
“What?”
“Yeah… I knew he wanted to. It’s just so weird how it worked out. At first I tried to stop him. I really did. Day in and day out I practically babysat him. Then for a little while he seemed like he was going to be fine. He was eating normally again. He just went back to how he always was. Then one day he came to me. Handed me two letters and left. That’s the same night the cops came and told us.
I didn’t read the letter until I left that night. He explained everything and by the time his funeral rolled around I couldn’t blame his decision any more. I guess I realized how selfish I was being by telling him he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t happy anymore. It hurt, yeah. What hurt the most was that I couldn’t make him happy. He’s my brother for fuck’s sake. I should have been at least able to help him. But I guess I just couldn’t. But I still love him and I just hope he can forgive me.”
It won't stop if they don't stop yelling
it's not the way of working your problems out.
I can't stand being around this yelling
so i'm finding my way out.
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
I bite my lip. Hardly able to comprehend all that was surrounding me. “Here.” Jason drops a letter in my lap and heads to his car. I watch him as he drives into the sunset and for some reason I know he won’t be coming back.
I open the letter and I stare down at its creased stature. I sigh and attempted to read the tear stained paper, the darkening sky my only source of light.
Hey kiddo,
If Jason gave you this letter it means that you and him have finally sat down and talked. I would have loved to see that happen but my circumstances just didn’t allow that. I hope I didn’t royally fuck up everyone’s life by doing what I did. And I really, really hope that you aren’t super pissed at me. Something in the back of my mind is telling me that maybe I should apologize for what I did, what I’m about to do, but the thing is, it just feels so right. I know I won’t regret this. Don’t kill yourself over this… haha sorry just a bit of dark humor to lighten the mood. Don’t worry about me kiddo I’ll be watching over you while you read this and if you’re sad I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life. So this may sound so freaking hypocritical but you’re not screwed up like I am… so… I want you to live your life. I want you to do that one thing you always thought was wrong but felt so right. Stay close to those you love and love you back. Don’t push anyone away. Bye kid.
-Evan.
--
There are always times in a person’s life where he becomes really confused. Times where a person doubts who he is to the point where he doesn’t even know who he is, times where a person will wander around aimlessly with an empty feeling inside that will tear him apart, that will devour him whole. These times often come and go, but sometimes it will stick and that person will feel like his life has become a long series of breakdowns.
Times like these will make a man wish that the very life he’s been given by God would be taken away. Times like these will shape the man. Times like these will prepare him for a life full of hardships. Times like these are unavoidable. Times like these….
Some people will go through life thinking that these times will never reach them. That’s what I believed a month ago. I believed that I could live the perfect life. Why wouldn’t I be? I worked hard for it. My parents worked hard for it. My brothers worked hard for it. But alas Evan was not one capable of surviving the breakdowns. Evan knew that life was one huge challenge. Evan knew that he couldn’t survive it.
Sometimes I feel so angry with him. Why would he do that? Now I know. He wasn’t strong enough and he knew that. David thought he wasn’t strong enough…. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really strong enough. I know I’m not. As long as life goes on the breakdowns and hard ships will continue. And as David said running away won’t solve anything. At least not in our case.
So for me now, all I can do is live my life. Live through my breakdowns and maybe help David through his.
--
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and dial David’s number, surprised that I still know it and hope that John wouldn’t be the one answering.
“Hello?’
“Hey, David?”
“This is he…”
“This is Pierre. I was wondering. Would you like to go to dinner?”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah, a date.”
I'm gonna drive and never ever slow down.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.
Packing my things and getting out of this town.
I'm gonna drive until I break down.