100 Ways to Torture an Emo

I walked home in a great mode that afternoon; he hadn’t quite said yes, but he hadn’t said no, either. ‘I can try to love you’ was the best answer I’d probably ever get from him and, even though I wasn’t positive that he loved me back, it was good enough for me.

When I got home, I was surprised to see that my mum’s car was already parked in the driveway. It was true that I had been a bit later than normal, since I had been trying to convince Matt to love me.

“Hey, mum,” I said as I walked in. I could hear her making dinner in the kitchen, so I went in there.

“Cassie! Where have you been? I was worried about you!” I sighed; if I was only ten minutes late, she’d start worrying about me. This was why I didn’t go to friends’ houses often.

“I’ve been at a friend’s place,” I began, “I’ve been going there after school for a few days now.”

“Really?” she asked curiously, “what’s their name?” I hated it when she became inquisitive like this; she wouldn’t stop talking until she found out everything about my friends.

“His name is Matt,” I told her, “he’s a really nice person.” My mum smiled, as though making a joke to herself.

”He is? That’s the first I’ve heard you say that about anybody for a while, especially a boy.” I felt myself blushing a little bit; I didn’t want to tell her that he was my boyfriend yet. Not unless the question popped up, anyway.

“Well I haven’t made any friends recently, have I? The other schools that I’d been to were full of people that seemed to hate me.”

“I guess so,” she looked up from cutting a carrot and smiled at me, “have any other feelings for him?” I laughed.

“Well, to be honest, he’s my boyfriend.” She looked shocked, as though I had committed the worst crime in the world and she couldn’t believe it.

“I’ll have to meet him one day,” she said excitedly, “make sure you invite him over one day, okay?”

“Yes, mum,” I said as though I was being forced to do something, although I really did want him to come to my place one day.

I went to bed that night thinking of more ways to make Matt happier, and yet only one way came into my head. I so desperately wanted to make him happy that I would have to write a whole list when I thought of something. I laughed quietly to myself and, hoping that I would still remember it in the morning, rolled over to get some sleep.

***

“Guess what we’re doing today after school?” I asked Matt happily at school the next morning.

“Something horrible?” he asked.

“We’re going shopping,” I said with a giant smile on my face.

“Oh,” he scowled, “you’re one of those girls, are you?”

“No,” I replied, “to be honest, I really don’t like shopping, but we need to renovate everything that you wear into happier stuff.” He scowled a bit more.

“When you say happier, I really hope you don’t mean colourful happy, because I’d rather look emo than gay.” I opened my mouth to protest, but soon realised that he had meant it as though he weren’t an emo.

“I’ll let you choose what you want, but you’re not allowed to choose stuff that looks like what you have right now.” He sighed, knowing that he shouldn’t argue.

I wasn’t sure how the shopping trip was going to go, but I was hoping that we didn’t argue or anything. I then remembered what my mum had said the previous night.

“Hey, Matt, come over to my place on the weekend.” I didn’t bother asking; I knew he’d like to get away from his father and so really didn’t bother asking.

“That’s if he’ll let me leave,” he told me, “he pretty much only lets me out of the house for school and if my mum is taking me somewhere.”

“Then why don’t you only ask your mum?”

“Because my father has a way of finding out everything about me.”

“Does he know about us?”

“Not yet,” he replied, “but I’m sure he will know somehow.”

***

It was lucky that our school was near a shopping centre; if it wasn’t, then my plan would’ve gone to waste. As we stepped into the clothing store, I could already tell that Matt wasn’t enjoying it; he continuously scowled the whole time and made it obvious that he really didn’t like it. Everything he chose out was exactly like what he already had.

“Remember what I said earlier, about you having to choose new things?” I asked. Matt nodded.

“I just don’t like that other stuff,” he told me, “and besides, I bet you own stuff like this.” I sighed; it was true, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“What I have doesn’t matter, I got out of my depressed state ages ago.” Damn it, I thought, he wasn’t supposed to know about that.

“You were depressed?” he asked with surprised, “I truly wouldn’t have ever guessed.” Knowing that I would have to tell him all about it, I decided to tell him at that moment.

“I was, but it was because of everybody being mean to me. Every morning I would refuse to go to school, although I would have to in the end, and wanted to die every second of my life. I had to move schools twice because of the people at them,” I smiled at Matt and continued, “but I guess it’s kind of good that I moved, otherwise I wouldn’t have ever met you.”

“You’re the first friend of any sort I’ve ever had,” Matt told me, “if it weren’t for your depression, then I still wouldn’t have any friends.” I didn’t care that he hadn’t mentioned me as his girlfriend; as long as he recognised me as a friend, I was happy.

The shopping trip hadn’t gone as planned, but at least I tried to get him some happier-looking clothes. Counting in my head, it had made up six ways I had tried to make Matt happier, leaving ninety-four more.

I was just hoping that I could think of ninety-four ways.