I Scream For Everything That I've Loved

Swinging my keys around my pointer finger, I whistled some made-up tune as I made my way down the hall to my apartment. 
 It may not seem it, but I was nervous. Alan was bound to ask questions when I got back and I didn't know what I was going to tell him. 
They found something. I had something or something was wrong with me. They didn't know what it was yet, I had to go back in a couple days to either get results or more testing. I had told them about the stomach flips and heart flutters, which were getting worse-stronger- day by day.

I stopped in front of the door, putting the key in my lock when I smelled something...weird. 
I opened the door, kicking off my shoes as I stepped in, finding the source of the smell was my place. 
I crinkled my nose, making my way to the livingroom. 

"What's that smell? Oh my god, it smells hor- did you smoke in here?"
I took in the slightly hazy room before me. 
Alan sat giggling on the couch. 
Yup. 
"Yeah, want some?" He gestured towards his backpack. 
I shook my head, sighing. 

"Al you know you can't do that here. It's a non-smoking complex. Not to mention that's illegal. You're gonna get me in trouble." I pouted.

"Austin, you wouldn't give a shit if you tried it. It's great, and nobody's gonna find out okay? If they do, I take all the blame."

"Yes, because it is yours." I chuckled.  
"And you know I don't smoke." 

"Maybe one day..." I heard Alan mumble, but I wasn't sure exactly what he said. 

"What was that?" 
"Nothing." Alan shrugged, and I sat down next to him. 

"So how'd it go? Everything running good in there?" He poked lightly at the center of my chest. 
I squirmed back into the couch, brushing his hand away. I didn't especially like being touched near my scar. 

What was I supposed to tell him? 
I couldn't just tell him there was something wrong, any other time,  maybe,but not now. It didn't seem right. 
It could be nothing, anyway, so no use in worrying him. 

"Y-yeah... Everything's good, my hearts fine, blood pressure's normal, air intake was good." I smiled at him as convincing as possible. 
Except everything didn't seem fine, and I was going back in two day because of it. 
But he didn't need to know yet. 

"That's good!" He nodded. 

-&-

It was now ten at night, and Alan was on his third round of smoking. 
In my room. 
I was going to have to live with the smell of his weed for weeks now. 
It actually wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, I was already getting used to the strong scent. 
It wasn't the smell I was worried about- well, it was, because I was afraid a neighbor would smell it and tell the landlord. 
I still wasn't smoking it, though. 
I was fine in the high-tide, thank you, Alan. I sighed, looking over to where he sat on the edge of my bed, a folded wrapper between his fingers. 

"Alan... You're going to get ME high."
"Sounds good to me." 
"Alan." I half whined. 

"Austin, just try it! One hit. Please?"

I was really considering doing it, just to make him stop asking me to. 
But what if I had to have blood work or something when I went back to the hospital? They'd find out that I did it. 
I shook my head, sighing as I scrolled down the page on my laptop. 
"Can't."
"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

What do I say now? 

"My heart. It can't be good for it."

"Austin they prescribe it for people with heart conditions and stuff like that. You'd be fine."

"I don't want to, Al."
I turned my attention back to the computer, reading all the messages from friends and fans on my twitter.

Fuck, my thighs were starting to itch beneath my jeans. 
I scratched over the material, and winced when I picked over a scab. 
I am just so glad they're not real scabs, but rough skin. 

"Austin?"

"Yeah?"

He tossed the remains of his blunt into the plastic bag he'd brought with him. 

"Are you all right?" 
What was that supposed to mean?

"What d-do you mean?"

"I don't know, you just seem kind of...off, lately. Are you okay?"

No. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." I laughed. "Are you?" 

"Yes, I'm fine." He chuckled, giving me a confused look. 

"Good, haha. Oh hey, are you staying tonight?"
He still had that confused look on his face. Like I had three heads or something. I mean come on, I only have two. 
I laughed at my own joke. One that he didn't even hear. 
"Um, yeah, it's 10 at night, Austin. And what is so funny?" 

It took me a few minutes to be able to tell him why I was laughing, because every time I tried, I had only laughed harder. 

"Y-you were- you were looking at me l-like I had three heads, and I thought to myself "but I only have two" and...and, and do you get it? Two heads?" I started laughing again. 

"Austin I think you need to get out of this smoke." He stated, and started laughing just as hard as I did. 

-&-

Alan had gone home the next night, to be home for supper. 
I was left at home, thinking about every possible bad thing that my mind could contain. 
Family and friends that I missed. The people that bullied me through out school. My relationship with my father in my teen years. Gielle cheating on me. Pets I had lost. Even little things like arguments with people, except they weren't very little when they made me hate my very being. Made me hate how I looked, how I talked, how I acted. Everything. 

Then I started thinking of possibilities. 
What if I died tomorrow? What if Alan got hurt some how? What if I never felt happy again? 
Not only was I thinking of all of those things, but my mind was going over every single detail of each of them. 
It's come to the fucking point where I can't take being alone? I couldn't stand being alone, but I didn't want to be with people. 

I just wanted Alan. 

-&- 

"Same as last time, your blood pressure and sugar are good. Can you breathe into this for me?"
She held a plastic container to my mouth that would check my air quantity. 
I had used them plenty of times before, and breathed out as much as I could. 

"Very good, Austin! Right to the top." she smiled, writing her findings down on a clipboard. 
This lady has known me for years, and she was even there when I had my heart surgery. We were pretty close, for doctor and patient. 

"We might have to take a little blood if we don't find anything in x-ray today, okay?" 
I nodded back, twisting my finger tips through my hair. 

"Alright, you wanna walk, or do you want to take it the easy way in the wheelchair?" She joked.

"I'll save you the load and walk." I grinned back. 

"Thank God, you're so tall I'm not sure if I'd be able to move you." She laughed as we made our way to the x-ray room. 
They had me lay down on the cool table and placed a mat over me from my hips down. 

I was met with a male voice now. 
"You said your stomach 'flips', sometimes hurts with it, and your heart 'skips', yes?" 

"Y-yeah. My, um, my stomach's been hurting a-a lot worse lately though." 

"Alright." I could tell he was now directing his voice to someone other than me. 
"Upper abdomen." I watched the metal machine move over me, scanning my body. 
"Lower left. Yes, now right." 
Each time he directed the person I could hear the slight click of pictures being taken. 

I was fine with laying here as long as I had been; I had been here for almost two hours now, mostly waiting for my doctor in the lobby. I had spent about twenty minutes in my nurse's room, and by the time they were done x-ray-ing my torso, I'd been under the scan for around 15-20 minutes. 

"All right, you're good to go." My nurse took the mat off of me, allowing me to stand again. 
"You can stay and wait while they look the pictures over or you can leave, but it will take quite a while for them to look them over." 

"I-I um, I c-can come back when they find out anything, I do-don't mind."

"Okay, we'll probably see you tomorrow, then. Is that all right?" 

"Yes, and, thank you." 

"No problem, Austin. See you around." 
We exchanged smiles and then I made my way back to the truck to go home. 

I was starting to worry now. I know I shouldn't, they would figure out if there was anything wrong and if there was, they would fix it. I trust them with my life. 

But still, there was the flipping in my stomach. Maybe it was because I was nervous? But that doesn't explain why it does it when I'm just sitting at home alone. 

That just added to why I dreaded going home most of the time. I knew I'd be alone, meaning all I could do was think. And I'd just have this fucking ache in my stomach the whole time. 

When I got up to up to my apartment, I took my shoes off and went straight to my bedroom. 
I had gotten barely any sleep last night; something that seemed to be happening more often lately. I just couldn't find sleep. I couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop worrying. Most of the time I didn't even know why I was worried. Sometimes I'd just lay there and pretty much cry, over nothing. Over everything. Over something. Anything I could think of that would make me sad, it just popped into my head and I couldn't get it out. It just seemed to build up, especially when I was alone. Especially when Alan wasn't here, considering he was really the only one that came over. 
    I needed to talk someone, now because it was happening again. The huge weight in my chest was present, and I just felt like complete shit. All those bad thoughts were coming in waves, and I didn't know how to handle it. 
But I didn't want to talk to Alan about this. Not yet. Plus, I didn't want to worry him. And what if he for some reason... Judged me? Made fun of me? 
In the back of my mind I knew he wouldn't, but it's hard not to think that when that's what's happened to you almost your whole life. 

I took my phone out and scrolled through the contacts. 
One caught my eye, and I had to go back to it. 
Jessica. 
I had completely forgotten I had her number. 
I felt like I could trust her, she had listened to me at the bar that night, and even told me to talk to her when I needed to. 

I needed to. 
I sent a simple message, reminding her who I was. 

"Hi Jessica, it's Austin, from the bar that night. I was wondering if I could talk to you? It's important." 

I sighed, burying my face in my pillow as I waited for a response. 
My phone beeped in my hands. 

"Hey Austin :) of course, what's up? Everything okay?" 

I thought for a moment about what I should say. I didn't even know how to say what I wanted. 

"not exactly. I just... I don't know. I just feel like shit." 

"tell me everything"

"okay. So you know about Alan, gielle, school, everything. It's all in my head. I can't stop thinking about any of it and I just can't seem to be happy lately." 

I groaned, curling up. My stomach hurt again, and I just wanted to cry. 

"I'm so sorry Austin. Have you tried talking to Alan about it? Maybe he actually feels the same. You never know. And as for gielle, she was a bitch and she doesn't deserve being dwelled on. She doesn't deserve anything from you at all.don't waste your time on her. And I can't even believe that people could hurt you like that, you're so sweet and just amazing, Austin ):" 

Her message made me feel a tiny, tiny bit better. But still, it just wasn't enough. 

"I haven't. I can't do that, even if he did feel the same way it just wouldn't be right,you know? 
I know. She just hurt me so bad, I never expected that. I loved her so much. I don't know why I did, I hate her now. 
I know why they did. Because I'm so stupid and I can't do anything right and I'm such a fucking faggot and I'm ugly, and I don't blame them." 

"it might be different after. But maybe it would be better. I think you should try talking to him some time, when you're ready. 
I hate her too it's okay haha. But don't be mad at yourself for loving someone, love is never a bad thing. It's the people that are bad. 
Austin you listen to me, you are NOT stupid, ugly, worthless, or a faggot. You are amazing. You're handsome, intelligent, and you're just... You're perfect. Don't call yourself a faggot, if you love someone, you love them. It doesn't Change who or what you are. You're human." 

That almost made me smile. But why was she denying what I was saying? Everyone knows I'm all of those things, I've been told so my whole life. I am stupid. I am worthless.I am a faggot, I'm in love with my best friend who is the same gender as me, and I'm pretty sure 'faggot' is what people call other people that are gay when they're being mean.

It feels like I cant do anything right. The only thing I can do is perform with my band, and most of it I didn't even come up with myself. I've written the words to a few songs, but I don't play an instrument, I don't create the songs in general, I just scream words that go through mine and my friends' heads. 

The only thing that makes me feel like it's not all for nought is my fans. Hearing them say I've saved their lives, or my band and our music has helped them, that's the only thing that makes me keep doing it. They need me and I need them. 

On stage I feel good, I feel happy. 
Maybe that's just what I need. To talk to the fans, perform. 
But the thing is, yes, I am happy. But even when I'm happy, it doesn't make sense, but I'm sad. 
I'm always sad, even when I'm happy. Can't be happy without that cloud in the back of my thoughts. 

I brought my attention back to the screen. 

"yeah... I guess it couldn't hurt. I'll never know if I don't ask. It'll be a while before I can talk to him about it though, but I'll try.
 It's bad to love something that only hurts you. 
Thank you so much, but I am, Jess. I'm all those things, I know I am. Ive been told it too many times not to believe it. But thank you for thinking I'm not."

We continued talking like that for a couple hours before she had to go to work. She tried her best to make me feel better, and it almost worked quite a few times. We ended up talking about things that were going wrong for her, too, and I think I made her feel better. She said I did, anyway. 
Turns out she's got quite a bit on her back lately too. Her friends were being complete dicks, the people she worked with walked all over her, the people she waited on at work were disgusting, and her grandmother was sick. 
I could relate to pretty much everything she told me, and did my best to comfort her and talk her through it. 

I was glad I had talked to her. She was really good at this stuff. 
She was also very good at arguing. 

I ended up going to sleep just after we stopped talking. 
Or at least trying. 
It took another couple hours to finally get to sleep, and I woke up continuously through the night, my stomach still aching. 
I couldn't wait for tomorrow to hear what the doctors found out.