Burn it Down

~Entry in Luke's Journal~

November 7th 2012

I fucking hate the world.

I hate it, and all I want is to burn it down. I want to see it evaporate in front of me and under me, until there's nothing left. Nothing left of this hell at all, nothing left to do except let my own existence fade into oblivion.

I long for the emptiness of being dead. I long to feel nothing. I don't want to need Megan so much it physically hurts when she's not here with me. I don't want to look at her and hate myself for wanting to be a monster. I just want to be a monster. But I want to be selfish and keep her. I keep telling myself I should just stay away from her, but I remember the last time, and how I felt empty. Maybe I should just feel empty.

I've discovered where the bastard lives, and part of me is fighting the urge to go to his house and beat his ass for what he did to Megan last week. I've been told he's going to court for it, and that the school has told everyone to delete the picture, but I don't think that's enough. I think it can wait until April, I'm not sure. I've got this list that I keep in my head. I only keep it there because when the cops eventually get ahold of this, I don't want them to know who I specifically targeted. That's my fucking business.

I don't know exactly how it came to this, but it did. Maybe if fuckers hadn't tortured me for years, I'd not feel so lost inside that I wish I had never been born. If they would have even left me alone and ignored me, that'd be better. But they didn't. They kept pushing and pushing and guess what? I fucking snapped.

My emotions are all over the place. I'm scared. It's the first week of November. I'll be dead by the end of April. I've got less than 6 months to live, similar to how long I'd have to live with a terminal illness. Ha. Life itself is a terminal illness.

Anyways. I'm really pissed Tyler dragged his fucking girlfriend into this. She has no place, and I want everyone to know that she had no place being part of what we're going to do. She wasn't supposed to fucking be there. Unfortunately, she fucking overheard Tyler and I talking about it and decided she wanted to be part of the damn thing. Tyler didn't even try to talk her out of it, no! His ass was all like well 'let's ask Luke I'm sure he'll be fucking okay with this'. I'm not, if you couldn't tell.

Tyler...where do I even begin on how I'm beginning to feel about him? Let's start with my budding hatred for the piece of shit. He pushes me down worse than the fucking jocks do sometimes. Acts like he's the fucking boss of me and the main dude in our little D-Day. He fucking isn't. He might do this without me, but I doubt it. He is just angry at how stifling his home life is. He didn't suffer nearly as much as I did, but he still acts more victimized than me, as if his whole life is a fucking injustice. Oh he can't go out because he didn't empty the dishwasher. Fuck yourself, Tyler. I do my chores for a reason. I'm beginning to hate him. Actually, I do hate him, and I don't know that I can stop it anymore than I can stop myself from killing these fucking losers at the school.

There's this scenario playing in my head over and over. After we're finished terrorizing the school, we're sitting there, our adrenaline flowing, covered in sweat and the blood of all those fucking idiots, having killed hundreds, wounded countless others, maybe even a few cops, Tiffany and Tyler would sit there basking in the glory of it. Tyler would know it's time to go, to finish it up. Before he could even tell her what had to happen next, I'd shoot Tiffany in the fucking head. While Tyler is stunned and wondering what the fuck just happened, I'd blow his fucking head off too. For suggesting this thing, for making it appealing, for doing it with me. Then, and only then, would I sit down and put my own gun in my mouth. A perfect ending, don't you think?

Friends are supposed to make you feel happy and loved and be there for you, and Tyler stopped being that a very long time ago. But we've known each other since we were kids and I just can't push him out of my life. Maybe if I explained everything to Megan, she'd help me. But I don't want to scare her before I am no longer alive to explain myself, because if she was the one to leave me, I don't know what that'd do to me. It might snap me out of everything, or it might make me more vicious. I just don't even know.

There's so much I want to say and do, but I lack the words and courage to do them.

I want to fight back and forget this thing. I want to tell Megan that after we get out of school, I wanted to get married. I think of our children often, which is funny because Megan was the one who used to do that. I don't know if she still does and sometimes that scares me too. But what the fuck does it matter? I won't even be alive to give her kids so why do I think about it? Maybe I could try to give her one before D-Day. But I'm pretty sure she's on birth control and I don't know if there's a way around that. Even if did manage to give her a baby before I left, how do I know she'd even want it? She could hate me for what I'm going to do. She might never want to think of me again. But then there's that little sliver of stupid hope that she might love it even more because it's the only part of me that's still alive.