The strong smell of flowers was intoxicating; I sat there in the front row of the funeral home, tearing a napkin apart in my lap. I can't hear a single word Father Joseph was saying, I have too many things going through my head at the moment. I keep my head down during most of the service; every so often I feel my father's gaze on me. I can't look at him -- I know he hates me, because of my stupidity my brother was gone. I slowly gather enough strength to finally glance up from the torn up napkin in my lap and up at the dark brown casket. I let out a heavy sigh; I couldn't hold back my tears any longer -- I had stayed strong this long. I took my brother's life -- At least that's how it feels; I killed him. He had spent twenty years of his life protecting me and this is how I repay him...
I feel a hand on my shoulder; I turn my head slightly to see Ryan and my other friend Kathy behind me. Its Kathy's hand that's on my shoulder, Ryan has his face buried in his hands leaning against the back of my chair, probably crying as well. "Are you okay?" She whispers rubbing the back of my neck.
Of course I'm not okay, I feel like jumping off a bridge, why should I be here when Jake's not? Of course I don't tell her any of this; instead I just nod my head. She forces a smile and tucks a strand of her auburn colored hair behind her right ear. After the service, Ryan, Kathy and I head down to the cemetery. She holds my hand the whole ride over and as they lower my brother's casket into the ground. Ryan hasn't said a single word to me which is understandable, he and Jake were close and he wasn't taking this too well either. All of this just didn't feel real -- I didn't want it to be real. I kept praying that this was all just a very long, horrible nightmare. But it wasn't... as much as I wanted it to be -- this was reality.
Kathy and Ryan stay with me until everyone had left. Including my father. I sit there in silence wishing that it was me in that casket instead of him. Kathy let out a soft sigh as she walks back over to me after talking to Ryan for a couple of minutes. "Ryan and I think you should come and stay the night with us tonight. We don't want you to be by yourself." She said softly as she sat next to me smoothing the wrinkles out of her knee length black dress.
"You think I should?" I ask looking up into her brown eyes and wondering if it's a good idea or not.
"You don't need to be around your dad tonight; today's a hard enough day for everyone as it is, especially for you, he'll just make the situation worse." She says calmly taking my hand into hers.
Ryan wipes his eyes and walks over to me. "Yeah, come stay with us tonight -- it'll make us feel better too knowing you're alright."
I think about it for a moment, did I really want to be around my dad tonight? He'd probably be drunk and end up beating the crap out of me if I was there. "Okay...yeah. I can't go home tonight."
"Alright buddy." Kathy said with a smile as she stands up and kisses me on the cheek. "I love you Nik, and I am so sorry you have to go through this."
I stare down at my hands. "Thanks."
She pat me gently on the shoulder before walking towards the front gate of the cemetery. Ryan lets out a soft sigh as he takes the seat she had been sitting in. "Nik..." he says softly looking down at the floor. I look at him and wipe the tears from my eyes. "I am so sorry Nikki...I'm gonna be here for you every step of the way okay? I'm gonna help you through this."
I swallow the huge lump in my throat. "Y-you don't have to Ryan."
"Yes I do, I'm your best friend. I need to be here for you when you need me the most -- and I know you need me now, whether you want to admit it or not."
I can't help but smile -- even if it was a weak smile. I look into his eyes, their red and swollen from crying; mine are probably just as bad -- or worse. He wipes my eyes with the back of his sleeve, then gently caresses my cheek. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Is it bad to have such a huge crush on your best friend? Even though he's crying his eyes out I can't help but to notice how handsome he is. Those Green eyes and that naturally tanned colored skin. Right when I'm sure my heart can't beat any faster, it does as he leans close to me. A drop of sweat run down the side of my face as all the muscles in my body tense up and I'm glued right there in my seat. The nearness of his breath makes my heart jump in my throat and my mind grows hazy. I can't think.
The next thing I know, I feel his warm lips on mine. I can taste the saltiness of tears, I'm not sure if they're mine or his. Probably mine since I can feel tears running down my cheeks as he kisses me. And just as quickly as it happened... it was over. He pulls away and glances down at the floor as if regretting what he had just done. I stare at him, not sure if I should say something or keep my mouth shut.
He clears his throat and looks at me guiltily. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that... I- I was out of place." He says as he stands up and starts to walk away. Before I can decide whether to say something to stop him or just let him walk away, I'm reaching out and grabbing him arm.
"Wait." I say in almost a whisper, my eyes aren't on him; they're focused on the floor. He stops and turns around to look me. I can feel his gaze even though I'm not making eye contact with him.
"I'm sorry, you don't need this right now -- I'm a horrible friend." He says, tears running down his face. I stand up and wrap my arms around him; he leans into my arms and lets me hold him. I let him cry, I have no idea what to say to him to make him feel better. I run my hands gently up his back; he looks at me, his green eyes dark and full of tears. I had never seen him like this; Ryan was always the strong one, not me. I want to be able to stop all his tears -- to take away all his pain, but I have to be able to deal with my own first. I want to kiss him again -- but I'm not sure if it would be appropriate, so instead I remain where I am, holding him in the middle of the cemetery.
~~~~~~~~~~
I sat on top of the railing of the stairs in front of the apartment complex watching. Just watching -- not at one fixed thing or anything. Just watching as mothers walk their children to school or down to the corner market. I'd give anything to have had my mother in my life longer; I envy the children in my neighborhood who have caring parents. Because I never did. I look up at the sky; it's nearly ten and theirs not a single hint of light from the sun. The clouds above are thick and grey, threatening to start raining at any moment. It's not that cold out right now -- a bit windy, but the sweater I'm wearing is warm enough. It's finally Friday -- Tonight I'll go down to "The avenue club" like I do every other weekend and meet up with Paul and Laura. Two of my so-called-friends. I look down at the concrete below before jumping down off the railing and landing on my feet.
I turn back towards the front door of the apartment and walk in. I hate my apartment complex -- the whole building reeks like someone or something died. It also has this weird moldy smell that's worse at night than in the day, and the fact that the building is in an alley so it's dimly lit and constantly freezing doesn't help much. I walk up the stairs, half of them creek really loud. I get to my apartment, 3B, unlock the door and go inside. My apartment is really sad -- and every time I walk through that door I remind myself how sad it is. All I have here is a bed, my dresser and the CD player. It's a tiny apartment, but most of it is empty space.
Later that night, I stand in the bathroom looking at my reflection. I'm wearing blue jeans and a black shirt with the words "shout it out" written across in red. I have on fingerless gloves which aren't going to protect my hands very much from the freezing cold, but I don't care. I look up into the mirror, my eyes aren't as blood shot as they were before, but my skin is pale, maybe a little too pale. I can see all the veins in my arms. I lookdown at the scissors in my hand before slowly rolling up the sleeve of my left arm. I take a deep breath and look into my eyes through my reflection as the cold blade of the scissors presses deep against my forearm. I bite hard into my lip as I feel it tear gradually into my flesh; a sharp pain shoots throughout my arm making me wince as the scissors cut a 4 inch long slash on my forearm. A moment later I can feel the warmth of blood drip down my arm. I look at the cut, it's pretty deep, the blood flows steadily down to my finger tip before dripping down on to the wooden floor. But I'm not finish yet; I place the blade against another section of my arm and slice another cut just as deep across the first one. I bite harder into my bottom lip and watch as more blood pools down on to the floor and all over the scissors. The next thing I knew, I could taste blood. Thick and sweet in my mouth. I look slowly up into my mirror and raise a hand to touch my lip; I must have bitten it so hard I had drawn blood. I drop the scissors and fall on to the floor, my back to the wall. My cut arm held out so the blood doesn't get on my clothes.
Cutting was another problem of mine, I liked to feel the pain. It was the only way of me proving to myself that I'm alive. That I am able to feel pain. That's why I do it, it gives you that bit of relief when that blade cuts into your flesh and the blood begins to collect before tricking down your arm. I reach above me for a towel and wipe the blood off of my arm then force myself to my feet. I turn the faucet on and clean my arm, then pull my long sleeves over the cuts.
At 11:45, I finally get down to the club. Paul and Laura are waiting for me outside. Paul sees me first and waves me over; I quicken my pace and walk over to them. Paul smiles at me and hands me my fake I.D. He's twenty four, but he looks older. His light colored hair and the way and eyes just give him this older look. "Hey Nikki, how are you?" he asks as he pats me on the shoulder.
"I'm alright I guess." I answer as I put my hands in my pockets.
"That's good." He says looking at Laura.
"Shall we?" Laura asks pushing her shoulder length blonde hair out of her face and pointing towards a small building where the sound of loud rock music is coming from.
I only nod. "Yeah lets." Paul says as he takes Laura's hand and starts walking towards the club. I stand there for a few seconds debating whether I really want to go tonight; I don't really feel up to it anymore.
Paul looks over his shoulder at me. "Hey Nik, You comin'?" he shouts.
I let out a sigh and run after them, yeah sure why not. What's the worst that can happen? Inside the club, the music is blasting. There must be at least a hundred people packed into the small corner building. The smell of marijuana smoke, alcohol and cheap perfume is strong. I sit at a table near the wall and look around at the huge number of people there. This club draws all different types of people to it. Homosexuals, cross-dresser, bisexuals, trisexuals, transgender, heterosexuals, druggie, drug dealers, prostitutes, you name it. I lean my chair against the wall, I really don't want to be here but I don't want to go home either. So where else does that leave me? I guess I'm stuck here now aren't I?
"Do you want something to drink?" Laura shouts at me over the noise,
"No thanks, I'm good." I answer back. I don't drink much at all, so what the point in doing it now?
Two o'clock, I've been here two hours and I haven't moved from my corner table. The crowd here is starting to decline. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. Laura and Paul ditched me like they normally do.
"Nik?" says a voice that founds familiar but I can't really match it. I open my eyes to find a blonde haired guy with green eyes standing in front of me.
"Ryan?" I say in disbelief.
"Hey, how are you?" he says sitting in the seat beside me.
"I'm aright, yourself?" I ask, god it had been so long since I had spoken to him. And he really had changed, in ways that not even from a far I would have noticed.
"I've been okay, going to school and all. God, I `m glad to see you're okay. I thought something bad might have happened to you after your father threw you out and all."
I shrugged, "Couldn't get any worse." I say trying not to make eye contact with him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He says in that voice I knew oh-to-well. The protective voice him and my brother had.
"It means that my life is pretty much as bad as it could possibly get." I answer finally looking at him. Looking into those gorgeous green eyes.
"You look okay, is there something you're not telling me?" yes, actually there is. Your best friend is a morphine addict -- that's what I wanted to say, just come clean but how could I? What if that made him leave, what if he didn't want anything to do with me anymore if I told him the truth.
"Just forget it." I say leaning back in my chair.
Ryan looks at me, trying to read me I guess. "No, I'm not going to just forget it Nik. You're my best friend. Or are you going to throw our friendship away?"
I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. I let out a heavy sigh and cross my arms over my chest. "It's nothing, really."
"I don't believe you." Ryan says rising to his feet and standing in front of me. "Let's go outside and talk, it's too loud in here. How could I argue with him? After all, he was my best friend --the only person I could really trust... maybe he could help me. I stand up as well and follow him out of the club and into an alley. "Now talk, what's up?"
"I already told you, it's nothing." I answer. Why won't he just drop it?
He grabs on to my arm. "Nik, how am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me what's bothering you?" he asks looking deep into my eyes. I can feel his arm tightening around my arm so I can't pull away. I can feel pain shooting my arm as his hand squeezes over my cuts. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to block of the pain, but I can't. I try to pull away but he only tightens his grip. Fuck -- I never would have guessed he was so strong.
"L-let go of my a-arm..." I manage to stutter.
"Not until you talk to me." He answers; I can hear the seriousness in his voice.
Fine.... I'll tell him. "Okay, alright... I'll tell you. Just please... let go of my arm." I answer trying to pull away but he doesn't let go.
"Promise you'll talk?" he asks.
"Yes, I promise." Damn it, it hurts so badly and he keeps making it worse.
He looks at me and as though he could read the pain in my face he lets go but quickly rolls up my sleeve exposing the cuts across my forearm. "Nik what the hell is this?" he asks holding my arm, not as tight as before.
"It's nothing." I say pulling my arm from him and rubbing it.
"Hell it that's nothing. Are you trying to kill yourself?" he asks me. It amazes me so much that someone actually cares this much about me, but at the same time it pisses me off because this is my life and I'll do what I want with it.
"No, if I wanted to commit suicide I'd have done it a long time ago." I tell him as I lean against the cold brick wall. It's true; if I wanted to end my life I would have done it by now.
"Then what the hell is up Nik, Why are you doing this to yourself?"
I look at him; he looks so concerned that I can't lie to him. I can't keep anything from him anymore. "I've gotten into some pretty bad things." I say slowly looking down at the floor.
"What do you mean Nik? Like.... Money problems, like gambling? Are you in debt or something?"
I let out a heavy sigh, "No.... nothing like that... I -- I have a drug problem..." there I finally said it. I expected him to continue yelling at me, to chew me out for being stupid. But instead he walks over to me and wraps his arms around me.
"Nikki.... Why didn't you come to me? You know I would have helped you." He said, I can feel his warmth, it felt so good to be in his arms like this... to be in anyone's arms who actually cared for me.
"I didn't want to bother you with my problems." I say turning to look at him. "I've been doing that since I met you."
"It doesn't bother me Nik; I'm your best friend. You should trust me with these kinds of things."
"I never said I didn't trust you." I say as I look down at my arm, gently tracing the cuts with my fingers. Even though Ryan and I hadn't spoken for a year that didn't mean I didn't trust him -- I did.
"Do you want to get help? Do you want to quit? Tell me Nik and I'll help you." I hear his foot steps move closer to me but I can't look at him. I'm too afraid. I can feel my whole body shaking.
"I don't know.... I want to get help.... But I don't know if I can..." I say, looking down at the asphalt.
"They have programs Nik, they can help you."
I'm not going to some stupid rehab." I snap as I turn to look at him.
"That's not what I meant. They're just groups, and they give you support along the way. Please Nik, I don't want to see anything bad happen to you. Please." He looks like he's about to cry.
I slowly walk over to him and wrap my arms around him. "Okay... I'll get help...." I say, burring my head into his chest. I feel his arms wrap around me, I'm shaking so badly. He places his hand on the back of my head and runs his fingers through my hair.
"Everything's going to be alright... I promise Nik. We're going to get you better." He holds me tighter. He smells so good. It's been such a long time since I've felt like someone actually wanted to help me... that someone cared. I could feel tears running down the sides of my face. Finally, I wasn't alone anymore.
Hello again everyone, here is the site to my new group- please leave me comments i'd love to know what you all think. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/prisoneroffate/
When The People We Love Are Taken From Us, The Way To Have Them Live On Is To Never Stop Loving Them... Buildings Burn, People Die... But Real Love Is Forever... -The Crow