Juliet Died Early1
I understand what people are saying when they say that they've lived and loved throughout their lives to end up in disappointment. It's a bitter topic to go on but it's something that one day has to erupt and be spoken of. In my life I can say that I've been disappointed many times but one time rings out the most and that happened just minutes ago.2
I don't feel like walking back into the rehab center and I find my feet moving while my mind is completely blank. I don't even know where I'm going. All I know is that I'm going somewhere.3
If I start crying I know that someone will stop me and ask me if I'm OK and that's not something I want to deal with. I just keep biting at my lip--self mutilation is the key to happiness, you know.4
I can't help but feel angry at myself-- like something I did went wrong...like something I did let Zachary say those things. He didn't even look like he was suffering when he said them.5
I keep walking when I pass "Bell street" and I feel like I'm wandering around aimlessly. The sun doesn't shine forever and it's starting to get too tired to light my way. Pretty soon the streets will be dangerous. I don't care, but my mother will. If I'm not home she'll flip out like she always does. When I see the 724 winding around the corner I sit on the nearest bench when someone sticks their finger out. I don't even need to sit down, I don't even want to, I just do it. It feels as if I'm a robot- I don't question anything or anyone anymore. I laugh or I smile or I just frown. Feels like it's been a lot of straight faces lately- Confused emotions? Maybe.6
The bus ride home feels slow and long. The sun stops shining in the midst of it and I just sit there holding onto a pole. No seat belts, no safety, just a long bar to stop you from flying when the bus finally gets into a car accident. I feel extremely exhausted after just a minute of sitting on the bus again. The floor is covered with brown water in certain places despite the fact that it didn't snow and it just started raining a few minutes ago. The floor is covered with gum and the other people on the bus aren't friendly- just in a hurry. It's kind of like doing speed, you just gotta do something and go somewhere and see someone. Never stops, just goes.7
I can't stop my eyes from wandering and on one bus trip you can see a lot. You can take a look at the back and find a couple making out despite the fact that there's probably a sex offender or two on the bus with us, you can find a child crying right across from you but if you're feeling as dismal such as myself, you'll do just as I did and ignore it for half of the trip. You can gaze to your right if you're seated horizontally and looking at the side of the bus and not the front and you'll probably see a lawyer whose car broke down today. He's furious, screaming into his phone and he's telling someone-- probably his wife-- to do as he says. It's not a big shock that he's yelling about suits being ironed and his case being lost. Some lawyers just do a shitty job. The bus driver never looks back, stays in the shadows as if he's ashamed of his job and if you sit in the front you can hear him muttering about making a new future, about bettering himself--but he never does.8
No one ever betters themselves. They just sit there and take the shit for years.9
It's all so typical.10
And in a way it's all so sad.11
My tongue slips to the left side of my mouth and I feel my teeth going down just a little. I don't really care that it hurts, I never really do. It's something I barely even notice anymore. I feel like I'm buzzed, but I don't quite know yet. I know I'm not going to make a trip to Skellington's, but I need something- a pick me up for a mysterious bliss. It'll make my mother happier without her even knowing why. I barely talk to anyone anymore and I've been sleeping in for two weeks.12
14 days without drugs.13
2 Hours without Zachary14
0 Plans for the future15
1 Month till my birthday.16
Well, I'm going to break one of those records.17
Probably the first one.18
When I get home I walk straight up to my room. Everything is grey and nobody is here except me. That's fine; my existence is all I need. Trusting someone else's will make your heart break or your mind implode. I almost laugh at how carefully I'm walking up the stairs to my room. I know what's hidden there, I tried to keep it hidden from myself by sleeping but there are just some days where you can't hide. Hide and seek is harder to play when your emotions are running wild.19
My bedroom is quiet, the walls are painted white. No pretty dolls from your sweetheart or photos on the dresser of times with your besties or old love letters anywhere. Just a white room with a bed with white sheets and a white pillow put neatly into place, a closet full of clothes, a book case, a television across from the bed and a dresser with a radio, a hair brush, a comb and makeup on top with clothes inside.20
Well, clothes aren't the only thing inside of the dresser and when I get on my knees in front of it my hands know automatically what I'm aiming for. I can't reach what I'm getting to unless I get on my stomach so I do what I have to do. Hiding shit inside of your dresser is stupid, that's the first place people aim for. Hiding it underneath TAPED to the hood is a better idea. A small bag of weed, a lighter and a cigar. Perfecto.21
The only reason I didn't do it earlier is because I didn't want to get off my bed for anything. I didn't really want to do anything. The dresser seemed miles away. Right now it's just in my reach.22
I reach into my pocket and pull out a pocket knife and cut slowly down the cigar. From tip to end. I grab a book off of my book case-- The Catcher in the Rye. I was never a big fan of this book so when I take the tobacco out of the cigar, it goes right on top of the book. I took some of the weed from the little baggy and put it in the paper, rolled it up, sealed it and bam. I was done.23
Before even smoking it I went to my radio with a dulled sense of right and wrong. CD in the top was mine, happy day. Burned CD. Burned blunt. All smiles.24
I pushed play and the first track that played?25
I didn't even remember the name. I know that it's a sad song.26
I sat on the floor beside my mess and took the blue lighter and pressed the switch down. There was that pretty little flame I used to light things on fire with. On one occasion the fire department came to the house. It was before I was smoking so all I got was a scolding for lighting a piece of paper on fire inside of the house and not thinking. It was simple to get over.27
When the flame hits the end I just watch it devour the front of the blunt. I don't really care much, but I don't want to let it go to waste so I put the end that isn't burning in my mouth and inhale slowly and deeply. When I stop I find myself coughing-- I haven't done it in two weeks. I didn't expect my throat to feel like a virgin to this. I rub my throat and wince before going at it again.28
After a few minutes I'm just sitting there. I feel pretty OK.29
The music that's playing from my radio is so clear to me. Something about Ballerinas being sad or something, I don't know. I didn't even care. I just sat there with the blunt next to me, leaning on top of The Catcher in the Rye. With it raining so hard outside and the sun being hidden behind the clouds, I never before realized how grey and sad my room looked.30
My mother calls my house phone and I hear it ringing down stairs. I don't want to move. My head turns to the door so slowly it's almost like my life is in slow motion. I know it's her calling, I don't give the number to anyone else and our family never calls us. No one ever calls. After the second ring I know I have to get up, but my legs are lame and it feels like they're not even there. The only reason why I know I'm not crippled or my legs were cut off is because I see them right there in front of me.31
I get up and stumble a bit so I'm forced to grab my dresser to hold me up for a second. I'm a little tired but I can't say that I care much. When I get to the stair well I think of throwing myself down. It makes me laugh a little. They look a little too far to walk for me right now. I grab the stairwell and I find myself taking each step like a two year old. Phone stops ringing.32
I pause to listen for it, but it starts up again and I find my quest to make it down the stairs alive continuing. I know the phone is in the kitchen and the kitchen is a little ways away when I make it to the bottom but still. Right now it seems like a forever walk.33
On the last three steps I trip over my feet and fall. My hands are crazy so I grab the railing before I can fall on my face and break a couple of teeth. Thank you mysterious fate.34
When I start walking again I'm wobbling like I'm half asleep. Can't say half drugged now can I?35
The phone is still ringing. How long has it been ringing?36
I grab the phone and I'm glad it answers automatically-- I forgot where the talk button was.37
"Cathy?"38
My mother sounds anxious. My breathing sounds tired. I wonder if she can hear me.39
"Cathy? Is that you, Cathy?"40
How irritating. I guess I should satisfy her desire to hear me speak.41
"…Yes?" I started laughing.42
"Is everything okay over there?"43
My mouth is going a centimeter an hour.44
"…Yes." I started laughing once again.45
"I'll be home tomorrow, OK?"46
"…Yes…" I couldn't stop laughing.47
"Alright, well….you sound OK…That's good enough. Make sure you eat enough food to stay alive and make sure you keep your room clean, OK? I love you. Bye." Click.48
"…Yes." I'm still laughing.49
My new favorite color is green.50
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