Early Mourning

I stared up at the ceiling, my hand hanging off the edge of my bed. I blinked, the buzz of the my Mickey Mouse ceiling fan filling my ears, accompanied by the hum of the old small refrigerator in the kitchen. I then closed my eyes and pushed the annoying sounds away, only to be met with a crowd of voices in my head.

Each one of them screamed for my attention. My head spun, trying to listen to all of them at once, scanning through each of the voices' words, trying to make some sense of it all.

"Boy get your ass back over here and eat your dinner. I expect you to sit here and eat with your mother and I like a family, you hear me!" My father roared from the dining room. I stopped in my tracks in the hallway, the dull blue carpet tickling my toes. I sighed and spun around, following his orders and walking into the room filled by both my parents, and dinner.

I sat in the chair obediently and ate my food quietly, as to not annoy my father with my feminine voice. Mid-bite I received a slap to a face, sending my ten year old body flying out of my chair and onto the floor. "You're a boy, cut your hair. A true man doesn't have hair covering his eyes. Stop getting on my damn nerves boy," he commanded and walked away. I just laid there, looking at my fork that laid on the floor. I then looked up at my mom but she ignored me as she picked up her empty plate and took it to the kitchen, not reacting to what my father had done.

"Shut up" I hissed, sitting up quickly and throwing my legs over the edge of my bed. I stood up and glided out of my room, ignoring the head rush and migraine beginning to form in my brain. I stumbled into the wall in the hallway, vision failing me and very slowly returning. I bit my lip and continued walking until I reached the front door. I grabbed my black slip-on vans and house keys from inside of them before putting them on. I opened the door and closed it behind me, the place behind my eyes burning.

I felt my body ache, as well as an outbreak of chills but I ignored my flu like symptoms and got in my car, driving to an all too familiar place.



"No seriously Dane, you need to take better care of yourself" The boy across from me,Larson, spoke and placed a glass of water and Advil in front of me. His dark feathered hair framed his face and drew attention to his dragon-like eyes. His pupils were surrounded by a reddish brown, which blended into green and then yellow. Larson sipped from his drink and reached for the medicine, taking out one pill and handing it to me.

I silently took it and placed it in my mouth, quickly taking a swig of water and swallowing the helpful drug and liquid at once.

"You shouldn't be concerned of my well being," I whispered and averted my attention out the window of the cafe, briefly paying mind to the strangers and cars that went by.

Larson and I had been friends for two months, always meeting each other at the cafe on weekdays. However, my absence the past three days concerned him.

"But what if this is serious," he asked, leaning forward.

I shook my head at him and looked at him directly. "It'll be gone in a week," I assured, staring down at the veins in my hands. Larson just shook his head and began to rant about my lack of self-responsibility. I just tuned him out.

I should be dead after what I've done.