Slow motion, see me let go
Chapter 18-
Chapter 18-
Two weeks left. I George Ryan Ross have two fucking weeks to live. I feel like an animal who's owners have set a date for them to be 'humanly put to sleep'. I have that gut feeling that everything I do, is for the last time. I go out to dinner, for the last time. I read an AP magazine, for the last time. I write a song, for the last time. I hate it. If I wasn't so god damn depressed about dying, I would feel suicidal from all the stress. And poor Brendon has no clue whats going on in this fucking up head of mine. I've tried talking to that stupid voice in my head but he only talks to remind me how many god damn days I have left which really isn't very helpful. Most people don't really like voices in their minds telling them how many days they have left to live. Ive tried everything to help Brendon too! Anything and everything, Ive tried it to get him happy about his family again but nothing is working! Ive put up with skittles even though that bastard bites and claws me every time I come near it. Ive written him song. Ive tried talking about it with him. Ive taken him on dates. Fuck Ive given him all the sex he wants! Ive done everything EVERYTHING to make a young man happy and he is happy! A very happy man! But just not happy enough. There's still just that glint in his eyes. That glint, that I'm sure ill never be able to fix. no matter how hard I try. That little fact, kills me
inside. I punched the outside wall of the house as I sat on the porch, taking a break while mowing the lawn (for that last time). I just cant take it. My knuckles were bleeding, the ruby red ran down my hand and I made no attempt
to stop it. At that moment, Brendon pulled up the driveway. I waved and he smiled. Stepping out of the car, he looked like a model. Those tight pants, loose fitting hoodie, his hair looking perfect. He was like heaven on earth. Oh wait, isn't that me? Or am i more like Limbo on earth? OK bad joke. "Hey gorgeous!" He called walking up to me with a few books and bags. "Hey sweetheart." I kissed him and smiled. "Oh my god! Your bleeding!" He exclaimed dropping the stuff he was holding and grabbing my hand. "Wh-what happened?" He questioned pulling me into the house and running my hand under the sink. "I, um, tripped and hit the uh, wall." I lied. He looked at me with a suspiciously but i just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. "Don't move, I'm getting the first aid." He ordered and walked off down the hallway to the bathroom. I examined the deep cuts on my hand. Damn, I must have been pretty anger. Brendon came back into the kitchen and sprayed some shit that stung like hell! then wrapped my hand around a bandage then wrapped it in some gauze and then wrapped it around a few times with medical tape. By the time he was done my hand had doubled it size. "Bren, how am I supposed to finish the yard like this?" I questioned trying to move my fingers. "Oh you are not going around sharp objects! I'll finish the yard." He told me and kissed my hand. "But Bren-" "No buts! All I need is for that to get infected and you dying!" He joked. I let out a nervous laugh and shifted my eyes away from his. Brendon and I walked back outside and he picked up mowing and I sat back down in my spot and watched him do it. He looked good doing it too. i wolf whistled and he blushed. This could be fun.
Two weeks left. I George Ryan Ross have two fucking weeks to live. I feel like an animal who's owners have set a date for them to be 'humanly put to sleep'. I have that gut feeling that everything I do, is for the last time. I go out to dinner, for the last time. I read an AP magazine, for the last time. I write a song, for the last time. I hate it. If I wasn't so god damn depressed about dying, I would feel suicidal from all the stress. And poor Brendon has no clue whats going on in this fucking up head of mine. I've tried talking to that stupid voice in my head but he only talks to remind me how many god damn days I have left which really isn't very helpful. Most people don't really like voices in their minds telling them how many days they have left to live. Ive tried everything to help Brendon too! Anything and everything, Ive tried it to get him happy about his family again but nothing is working! Ive put up with skittles even though that bastard bites and claws me every time I come near it. Ive written him song. Ive tried talking about it with him. Ive taken him on dates. Fuck Ive given him all the sex he wants! Ive done everything EVERYTHING to make a young man happy and he is happy! A very happy man! But just not happy enough. There's still just that glint in his eyes. That glint, that I'm sure ill never be able to fix. no matter how hard I try. That little fact, kills me
inside. I punched the outside wall of the house as I sat on the porch, taking a break while mowing the lawn (for that last time). I just cant take it. My knuckles were bleeding, the ruby red ran down my hand and I made no attempt
to stop it. At that moment, Brendon pulled up the driveway. I waved and he smiled. Stepping out of the car, he looked like a model. Those tight pants, loose fitting hoodie, his hair looking perfect. He was like heaven on earth. Oh wait, isn't that me? Or am i more like Limbo on earth? OK bad joke. "Hey gorgeous!" He called walking up to me with a few books and bags. "Hey sweetheart." I kissed him and smiled. "Oh my god! Your bleeding!" He exclaimed dropping the stuff he was holding and grabbing my hand. "Wh-what happened?" He questioned pulling me into the house and running my hand under the sink. "I, um, tripped and hit the uh, wall." I lied. He looked at me with a suspiciously but i just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. "Don't move, I'm getting the first aid." He ordered and walked off down the hallway to the bathroom. I examined the deep cuts on my hand. Damn, I must have been pretty anger. Brendon came back into the kitchen and sprayed some shit that stung like hell! then wrapped my hand around a bandage then wrapped it in some gauze and then wrapped it around a few times with medical tape. By the time he was done my hand had doubled it size. "Bren, how am I supposed to finish the yard like this?" I questioned trying to move my fingers. "Oh you are not going around sharp objects! I'll finish the yard." He told me and kissed my hand. "But Bren-" "No buts! All I need is for that to get infected and you dying!" He joked. I let out a nervous laugh and shifted my eyes away from his. Brendon and I walked back outside and he picked up mowing and I sat back down in my spot and watched him do it. He looked good doing it too. i wolf whistled and he blushed. This could be fun.