I Want To Be Who You Pretend You Are

“He’s fucked in the head,”

“Why is everyone saying that?”

“Because he is, seriously he’s not all there,”

“Shut up, Gerard,”

“I’m only saying because I care,”

“I don’t care what you think, just leave him alone,”

“It’s not just me that thinks it,”

“Yeah, mom does too. Whatever,”

Why can’t people just leave me alone? Why do people always have to bring up the bad things I’ve done? Why can’t I just be normal?

“That wiL is fucking weirdo, why the fuck would you go within 50 feet of him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Mikey. You never go out of your way to talk to anyone you don’t know. The only reason you’re friends with Ryan and Forrest is because you’ve known them since you were a little kid,”

“What, so I’m not allowed new friends?”

“You don’t want new friends. You hardly talk to Frank, and you’ve known him for years. I just want to know why a nice kid, a quiet kid like you would want to be friends with some like...him,”

“He’s...different, he’s special,”

“No, he’s screwed up, seriously screwed up. Hell, even I think he’s a sicko,”

My emotions got the better of me and I began surveying the room for anything that could inflict pain.

“You better not piss him off or he’ll slit your fucking throat, Mikey, I’m not fucking kidding,”

Gratefully, I found a glass bottle on the bedside table. I smashed it and because Mikey and Gerard were in a screaming match no-one heard. Anger increasing, I lost control and began hacking up my arm with the bottle.

“Gerard, I don’t care what you think. wiL’s my friend so fuck off”

Clenching the neck of the bottle tightly in my hand I sliced in all directions, the blood was seeping everywhere and the bottle had become slippery from the red liquid that now covered it. I wasn’t trying to kill myself, not this time, I was just inflicting some pain. I hate this. I can’t go on like this. It shouldn’t be like this.

“No, I heard he was seriously planning a massacre. He’s beat the shit out of people. He’s an absolute druggo. He’s completely fucked up,”

“What makes that any different from you, asshole!”

There was a silence.

“I’m just saying, watch yourself. He’s a psychotic bomb,”

I hid the bottle under his bed, making a mental note to get rid of it before he noticed. The screaming in the next room continued a while longer before it was silenced by their dad. I sighed in relief, not sure how much more of it I could’ve taken.

I crossed my arms over my chest and bought my knees up under my chin. Mikey re-entered the room, shoulders slumped.

“You heard that too?” He asked, sitting beside me.

I nodded, but tried my best to act like I didn’t care.

“I don’t know what got into him, he’s usually really nice,” Mikey sighed, stealing a glance at me, despite the fact I was avoiding him.

“So Ryan and Forrest are gonna be here soon, Ryan’s just got to take another half an hour to fix his hair,” Mikey smiled weakly.

My return of the smile faltered and he gave me another pitiful look.

“Why did you talk to me?” I asked, pulling my knees up closer.

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you just ignore me like everyone else does?”

“Because...because I know what it’s like to be ignored and picked on,”

Silence again.

“I’m so tired,” yawned Forrest, pushing a sleeping Ryan off his lap.

“You share the extra bed with Ry,” Mikey told him. Ryan shot awake at this point, his eyes wide.

“I don’t wanna share with Forrest,” he whined, glossy pink lips pouting.

“Well, wiL’s here so unless you’re sharing with him-” Mikey began.

“No, it’s cool.” Ryan interrupted quickly.

I couldn’t help but notice how freaked Ryan got, instantly he grabbed Forrest by the arm, dragging him to the spare bed - great, another person who’s scared of me.

Any normal person would’ve laughed and said something witty like ‘your loss’ but all I could do was bite my lip and stare at the carpet like an idiot.

“Are you alright?” Mikey asked, lying beside me. The moonlight shone on his face and he looked even more like a glowing pale angel.
“I...yeah, I’m fine...” I replied, turning away from him to face the wall.

There was no reply, then I felt a light weight on my side. I glanced over, it was Mikey. His eyes were filled with such sympathy as he stared at me.

“What?” I whined, unsure if I really should’ve replied. Maybe I should just pretend I’ve fallen asleep next time.

“You’re not alright, are you?” he asked, leaning down so his face met mine.

I didn’t answer, I just blinked back tears and stared at the wall again.
Don’t cry. You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s sickening. You can’t even go an hour without bawling you pathetic shit.

“If you don’t want my help...” he said, softly, not finishing his sentence.

I drew my arms in closer to my body and ignored Mikey’s puppy-dog stares. I heard him sigh and shuffle back to where he’d been before.