The Devil On Your Shoulder

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Alex.

"What the fuck, are you okay?" He said, panic all over his voice. "I'm gonna call an ambulance."

I hit his phone out of his hand, groaning as I sat myself up. "Shut the fuck up, I'm fine." I told him, the pain in my head so blinding it felt like I was getting stabbed, constantly.

"You're not okay!" He screeched at me. "And you broke my phone, douche."

I rubbed my head, realising there was a bump forming already. I just wanted Alex to shut up for a minute. I remembered him being like this, speaking constantly. Me, I was more of a quiet person. Only really spoke when I had to. That's why my parents always thought I was terrible at making friends.

"Give me your phone, now," He told me quickly, fumbling around in my pockets.

I shoved him, resulting in him falling over and shouting. I wasn't listening, Alex was the least of my worries right now. "Jack, what the hell? I'm trying to help you, give me your phone!" He screeched again.

"If you want to fucking help me," I told him harshly. "Help me up and please stop talking."

"Why can't you just give it up for once?" Alex moaned, his voice changing from sympathetic to annoyed. "You always have to do things yourself, why can't you let people in?"

"You're one to talk." I snapped at him. Alex pushed anyone who got remotely close to him away. Just like he'd done for me, for every other person he'd ever been close with. I knew this because I'd been at the same school as him for 4 years, I knew it better than anyone.

I tried to pull myself up, but my arms were feeling weak and I couldn't. Alex watched me for a while until finally deciding to help me. I passed dirty looks and brushed myself down. I just wanted to be done with Alex, I wanted to move on. I couldn't keep bringing up the past, because I knew me and Alex were never gonna happen again. As much as it hurt, I knew it was true.

"I'm going now, Alex. You should too, you'll be late for class." I told him, ready to push past him when he held my arm.

"Since when did you start caring about being late? Remember that time we bunked off? The first day we met?" He asked me, his face lighting up. Fucking Alex, always bringing up the good parts. It hurt remembering that day, I hated that day. It was the first day I'd set eyes on Alex, the first day I'd felt feelings for him. They definitely weren't romantic at first, it was more curiousity.

"It could be worse, I could be a cheater." He went on to tell me, knowing well that that was a touchy subject for me.

I pushed into his shoulder, refusing to talk about it with him. It'd been 6 months, since months of constant pain, and now he decides to worry about me and try and re-live our good times? I was having none of it. Especially after bringing the whole cheating thing up. He fucking knew where I stood with that, I was so done.

"Jack," He called after me, his footsteps matching my own. "Let me come with you, make sure you're okay."

At that point, I punched him. It wasn't a hard punch, I wasn't capable of a hard punch, but I punched him hard enough to surprise him, and when he looked round at me, holding his face, looking as adorable as fucking ever, my blood began to boil for the second time in half an hour.

"Do you know how it feels to miss someone so much it physically hurts? Do you know how it feels to walk around the school, looking at things and being reminded of the good things that happened with one person, making you want to break down and cry? Do you know what it's like to go through everyday, smiling and pretending like nothing's wrong, when inside you want to die?" I screamed at him, pulling out my wrist and throwing it in his face. My wrist with fresh scars. "Leave me alone, I don't ever wanna talk to you again." I told him, pushing my sleeves back down and throwing myself into a running pace, tears falling down my face. I pushed them away quickly, determined not to cry.

-

Today was the first day of my new school. My new school, without Alex. It was a pretty shit school as they got all the expelled students. Pictures I'd seen online of the school attempted to hide the graffitied walls, but they didn't do an amazing job. I could see words such as 'fuck' and 'hell' written across the sides. Hell was a good word to describe my life. One of the main reasons I didn't believe in religion was because I knew my life couldn't get much worse than it was now. Even burning in religious 'hell' would be better than what I'm going through.

I knew I didn't have a lot to complain about. Sure, I was going through my parents splitting, going through a break-up, a pretty fucking terrible break-up, but I knew there were people worse off than me. My mom made sure I knew this, telling me every day when I came down to eat breakfast, normally after finishing my morning set of tears. She knew me well, she knew exactly when I'd just been crying. She made me my cereal, cheerios and a ton of milk, set it down on the table and told me to 'look on the brightside, there are so many people worse off than you.'

As if I didn't already fucking know that. I was sick of hearing the same thing over and over again. My dad would tell me to 'lighten up'. Lighten up? Really? What does he think I'm trying to do? Stay sad? Of course I'm trying to fucking 'lighten up'. It's not easy, it's far from easy. I try my hardest to look happy around my parents and the rest of my family. My parents think they know what's going on, but no-one really does. No-one really cares.

'It will get better' is another common phrase I've been hearing. Quite a hilarious statement, really. When will it get better? How will it get better? For the last 2 years of my life the only good thing that's ever happened to me was Alex. For the last 5, 6, maybe my whole life, the only good thing has been Alex. Sure, Alex made up for all the rough times I'd had. But what's left now? Nothing. I had nothing. I had no-one to talk to, no-one to cry to. No-fucking-one.

I slipped on my joggers, something I'd been wearing a lot since I didn't have Alex nagging me to wear skinnies anymore, pulled on my shirt and tie and threw on my shoes. I didn't even bother looking in the mirror, I knew what I looked like. Same old scruffy black hair, hair I hadn't brushed properly in a long time, black bags forming under my eyes, pale skin, couple of spots. I didn't have many spots anymore though, since I'd stopped eating regularly they seemed to disappear. My pale skin got paler and paler every day and the black bags got darker. I worked most, if not every night at my dad's bar and I didn't stop until about 3am. I didn't like sleep anymore. I didn't want sleep, sleep brung back too many memories. Too many memories I didn't want to have to face.

My mom left for work earlier and earlier each morning. I was usually a mess in the morning, and she prefered not to have to clean me up. That, and because she was more than pissed about me getting expelled.

When my mom wasn't around I usually didn't eat breakfast, I woke up just in time to leave, which was about 9:00. My mom had told me many times to get to school before 8:30 on your first day, but it wasn't happening for me this morning. How strict could they be anyway, a school full of expelled pupils?

I pushed my earphones into my ear sockets as I closed the door, locking it behind me. I clicked the side button of my ipod, pushing it up to full volume and walked towards the bus stop, waiting for my bus. Unfortunately, there was a bunch of people waiting too, which meant I hadn't missed my bus, I was right on time. I slouched on the bus stop post, music so loud people began to look at me. I waved at them sarcastically, and they all turned away quickly.

Sometimes, I would have random outbursts of confidence. They normally resulted in me doing something stupid which I would regret and feel embarrassed about for at least the next 2 weeks. Today, that wasn't the case. I was way past caring, way way past it.

The bus finally came, and after what felt like forever on a bus with a bunch of people I already hated, we got to school.

My first class was English, and after registration I grudgingly walked in, throwing my bag underneath my desk, immediately putting my head in my hands.

At that exact moment, a familiar brunette, fluffy haired kid walked in, wearing tight skinnies and shirt which was a hell of a lot neater than my own.

I groaned, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me,"