Autumn's Monologue.

“I, I, I don’t know what you’d want me to say to that. I don’t.”

I couldn’t tear my gaze from him, I couldn’t. Not even as the tears fell down his cheeks; I’d hurt so many people—today doesn’t even compare but it makes it worse because I’m actually close with the people I’ve hurt. I know them inside out and I hurt them.

“Mikey I, I’m not going to pretend I’m not distraught or disturbed by what you’ve told me—how could I be calm about what you’ve told me? I just thought it was all over Frank, not, not other things too. I felt horrible for sort of pushing it all to the back of my mind because I thought it was all about Frank—it wasn’t and I’m sorry for that.”

He took my hands in his own as he spoke to me, looking me dead in the eye.

“You’re my best friend and we’re going to get you through this, whatever it takes. If you want to hate me then hate me, but you are going to get help for this. You’re beyond that of just us—me, Gee, Frank, your mom—we can’t help you now, you’re too far gone. I miss you…I want you back.”

I let his words sink in; they were going to do whatever it took to fix me. Was I ready? He said it didn’t matter if I was, if I wanted it or not it was going to happen. I removed my hands from his, my mood changing suddenly.

“I haven’t ever denied I have a problem, why do I need help for something I know about? I know what I’ve done and what I’m doing is wrong—I’m only human! I am me, I haven’t gone anywhere; I’m still Mikey! I’m still me. I’m still me.”

He wiped his eyes as he looked down and away for the first time in a while; sighing he too left me to myself. However, he did look back before closing my door behind him. I didn’t want to be here anymore, not if they were all going to judge me like this—blame me for something that I knew was my own doing in the first place.

I shoved my feet into my shoes, grabbed a hoodie and quietly crept downstairs. I could over hear them talking about me—planning what would be best for me. Letting me be would be best—do the three of them know about the time ma took me to have my stomach pumped?

Do they know that? Do they know I felt so low, so pathetic, so gone that I wanted to leave? Did they know that I tried to kill myself? Not caring for the consequences of my actions? I had to sleep with my door open for three months—I wasn’t aloud to do anything without being supervised.

I don’t think they do, ma was too occupied with me that she probably didn’t get to tell Gee who would’ve told the others. I’d hate to think what they would do after finding that out—chain me to my bed possibly? Scan every drink I take, every bite of food I take, every smoke? They haven’t even done anything and I already feel like a prisoner.

I slipped out of the house unnoticed, making sure to go the long way—behind the house—that way they wouldn’t see me out the front window. I knew exactly where I was heading—my escape. I walked the all too familiar path towards my destination, a smile coming to my face as I took in the sight of the over-sized white house.

I knocked once I reached the door, waiting the arrival of one of its occupants. A huge smile adorned the face of the person who answered the door.

“Hell, I haven’t seen you in a while? Trouble in paradise my love?”

I noticed the bottle in his hand, taking it and swigging back some—vodka—I need something strong anyway.

“They caught me.“

I raised my arm, he knew what it meant. A small frown appeared on his face—such a thing is out of place, so foreign on him.

“I told you to stop while you could. You can stay as long as you like, I was actually about to settle down and watch Cinderella, care to join me?”

I smiled at his childish antics sometimes—I haven’t watched a movie in a while. I just nodded and we walked the familiar path up towards his room. I went to the third drawer of his dresser, pulling out a pair of my own pajama pants, dropping my jeans and replacing them with my pj’s.

I watched from his bed as he put in the old movie that won some of my attention as a child. The talking animals, the magic, the pumpkin coach, the ball—it all captivated my child mind. He climbed in beside me, pulling me to his side as we settled into a comfortable position.

I had made it to the part where her dress gets torn to shreds as I felt my eyes begin to droop. I hadn’t realized how tired I was—before I knew it I was lost to the world around me.

=-=-=-=

I awoke with a crick in my neck—I wasn’t by a dumpster again was I? I cautiously opened my eyes, taking in the sight of walls and a ceiling—venturing to my other senses I could feel warmth to my right, an arm across my waist, breath tickling my neck.

I widened my eyes at the realization of where I was at—I hadn’t done anything had I? No, we just watched a movie, I remember now. I slowly sat up—remembering that once he was out, there was no waking him—I climbed out of his bed.

I found my jeans from the day before and slipped a hand into my pocket, retrieving my phone—no missed calls, no missed texts—they hadn’t even noticed I was gone. I noticed the bottle of vodka we had abandoned once we reached his room—glancing at his still sleeping form I took the bottle and headed out.

Casually sipping on the bottle of poison I walked around—not caring I was still in my pajama pants—I’d get my jeans another time. I had so many clothes at his house it was ridiculous. I finally ended up on my street—unaware of course—and stood in front of my house.

So much had gone on in that building—so much. I took my first step inside, spoke my first word, broke my arm, played my first video game; then I turned my thoughts to recent events. I’ve had many nights with Bert in my bed, blasting music so my mother wouldn’t hear what we were up to.

Nights where my music was loud yet I was alone, drunk or high or both to give a rat’s ass about the world around me—the music drowned out my thoughts. It was the place I decided I wanted to end my life that night—it definitely held its memories for me; the good and the bad.

I walked up the walkway, gently touching the door to test if it was locked or not—unlocked. I quietly opened the door, I could hear the morning news—some place was robbed again last night. I closed the door and peered into the living room, my mother and brother were leaning on each other as Ray was on the loveseat—they were all asleep. I had gone unnoticed.

I ventured up to my room, avoiding the creaky spots of the stairs and finally making my way into my room.

“Where have you been?”

I froze the moment I heard his voice, took in the sight of him. He looked so disheveled, so distraught. I saw something green in his hands—he had my box.