If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

My thoughts wander around the fireworks and Jack with other goons as they run around, trying to catch the remnants of the ‘stars.’ It’s still…. Absolutely insane, really, that I’m here now, with Alex, surrounded by these people, here in Texas.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre…

I swear softly under my breath. Can I get no peace?

But I know the answer. I’ve known it since… since forever. Chewing on my lip, I contemplate all through out time. I can’t forget, I can’t get over it, but I can’t fix it or anything, I just have to… move on, or… or just… pretend to.

Sighing, it’s just so hard to believe how much time can affect things, bring things about and just… change, really. Once upon a time I was on the streets in Chicago, you know? Now I’ve a place in L.A. with people and… well, I don’t know. But it’s something, right? Kinda…I don’t know.

Lately, though, I keep… I keep realizing I’m starting to have hope. Which I’ve never really had, because I’ve gone through a hard life, I’ve learned to live without it, you know?

And it’s really frustrating, getting rid of it again, for some reason.

“Bayyyyy.”

“Huh?” I turn over.

“It’s the big finale, now,” he whispers happily.

I turn back and my heart hammers as the finale begins at last, the one everyone is always waiting for. The lights start with the big bangs, showers of green and purple, sparks of blue and yellow, twinkling stars of red and orange…

Bam.

The noise hits me like a gunshot and I wince, sitting up, trying to block it from my mind. If I let one in, they will all spill, they’ll all explode and I won’t be able to stop it or make it go away for the longest time, after I’ve tortured myself enough.

Alex’s large strong hand falls firmly on my shoulder, there for me and wondering if something is wrong. I just sit there, breathing hard, a fist in my stomach, trying to control myself, keep control like I haven’t been lately, I’ve been just… loosening up…

Stupid Bailey. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

“Let’s find a bar!” Travis pops over happily.

“All closed.”

“What?” His eyes turn wide and I watch him and Alex converse, my heartbeat steady and everything playing out normally, as always, nothing’s weird…

The finale’s done and all the fireworks are gone- and the rest were ruined due to Jack and some others’ eager tongues- so we all spread out and get to returning to our buses, the holiday over and a work day to get ready for.

ATL boys, however, don’t think on that as they turn on the TV and everyone finds various spots sit in. I sit on the table with popcorn in my lap, looking around to see we’re missing Rian, but we also have Pat next to Jack doing some thumb wars, and Christofer Drew is challenging Zack to some food contest near the bathroom. A few more guys I don’t really know are spread around and Alex is on the bench to my right, John Ohh to my left.

“OooooOOOOO!” Everyone choruses, finding some scary movie playing.

Hogging some food, I lazily watch the movie with them, occasionally kicking those too close and making snide comments how this movie is pretty lame. It goes on and I just roll my eyes as the boys exclaim randomly, saying its fake, its real, its scary and its stupid.

People come and go and soon it’s just me and the band again, and we’re all on the couch. The movie ends at last and no one bothers to go to bed as it turns to TV, channel 12…

“And tonight, our Top Ten List goes for the Top Ten Sickest Sadistic Serial Killers.”

“Let’s turn this off,” I say quickly, my eyes wide but frozen to the screen as they start listing names.

“Number ten, starting with Charles Frickdenburg…”

“Scared?” Jack laughs madly.

“No,” I snap right away, rushedly. “I just… think we could find something else to watch.”

“Seven being Maria Elsworth….”

“You okay?” Alex asks, putting a hand on my arm.

“Yes,” I roll my eyes but my blood’s rushing and I feel the need to panic. “Give me the remote, Jack.”

“No!” He pouts stubbornly.

“Five being William and Wilma Harrington….”

“Jack!”

“Alex!”

“What?” Alex lazily looks over to him.

“Make her stop glaring! I’m gonna die!”

“You will if you don’t give it to me!”

“Three being Draken Richards…”

“Never!”

My hand is left out in the air, waiting for the clicker and my breath turns shallow. Slowly, my hand forms into a fist and my breath catches.

“And number one being Jeffrey Dahmer…”

“Bailey?”

“Don’t touch me!” I shriek, jumping off the couch. Everyone looks at me, eyes wide. I take a deep breath and swallow hard. “I… I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” I say shortly. “Turn it down.” And I head off to the bathroom to wash my face.