The List
Prologue
Isaac wants to die. Literally, physically, mentally, metaphorically - whatever. But he can't - at least not yet. He's just not ready, has a list of stuff, important stuff, that he needs to do. It's not one of those angsty, "I hate you Bethany and I'm going to stuff your purse with condoms and then knock it over between classes because fuck you," kinds of list. It is more of a - no, Isaac definitely hates Bethany and is definitely adding that to the list.
He's scarily serious about this, about wanting to die. Everything would just be better if he wasn't there. Around. Oxygen is a privilege, and Isaac isn't one of those "I dun wan 2 take up ur air so long friends I am leaving" kind of people. Hell, after all the shit he's been through he knows he's up there on the List of People Who Deserve to Breathe Oxygen on a Regular Basis.
But that thought has never stopped him from feeling like shit. And eventually that thought turned into life is shit and then I am shit and then somewhere during the thought process he crossed the (apparently not so) imaginary line, face-planting straight into the Emotionally Unstable territory -- right below Lindsey Lohan (bless her soul).
It's like he no longer has control over himself, like what little was left of his emotional well-being had packed up and moved to Alaska - seriously, any sane being would never move there. So maybe he was never really all there to begin with.
Really, feels betrayed: by himself.
Though no matter how he feels he can't just let himself die. His room was messy; Skittles wrappers and cough drops littered his floors. His computer was home to more gay porn files than probably healthy, and fuck, he was so selfish. But he can't die feeling selfish, he can't. So he's going to email grandma one more time, teach the parentals how to internet. Weed the mother-effing garden.
The list, Isaac decides, is the only thing between him and Death.
He's scarily serious about this, about wanting to die. Everything would just be better if he wasn't there. Around. Oxygen is a privilege, and Isaac isn't one of those "I dun wan 2 take up ur air so long friends I am leaving" kind of people. Hell, after all the shit he's been through he knows he's up there on the List of People Who Deserve to Breathe Oxygen on a Regular Basis.
But that thought has never stopped him from feeling like shit. And eventually that thought turned into life is shit and then I am shit and then somewhere during the thought process he crossed the (apparently not so) imaginary line, face-planting straight into the Emotionally Unstable territory -- right below Lindsey Lohan (bless her soul).
It's like he no longer has control over himself, like what little was left of his emotional well-being had packed up and moved to Alaska - seriously, any sane being would never move there. So maybe he was never really all there to begin with.
Really, feels betrayed: by himself.
Though no matter how he feels he can't just let himself die. His room was messy; Skittles wrappers and cough drops littered his floors. His computer was home to more gay porn files than probably healthy, and fuck, he was so selfish. But he can't die feeling selfish, he can't. So he's going to email grandma one more time, teach the parentals how to internet. Weed the mother-effing garden.
The list, Isaac decides, is the only thing between him and Death.