5. FIVE
FIVE
It takes a hot minute for me to notice how cold it is when I get home. I could’ve sworn that I closed my window when I left, but obviously I’m just a forgetful idiot. Nice work, Duncan.
When it closes I’m greeted with unnerving silence.
My heavy eyes wander down to the frayed edges of my cloth bedframe, all torn up and ruined thanks to my cat Chalupa.
For once the little guy isn’t hiding in my closet or under the couch.
He’s all curled up on my bed and I decide then and there that cuddling with him will cure me for at least the rest of the night.
Despite only being around Finn for thirty minutes, the drive there and back took a good three hours.
It’s nearly midnight, and even after sleeping all day I am more than ready to sleep another ten hours.
I like sleeping. I like being able to pretend things are fine and I’ll wake up to a better life.
Jordan
Duncan, you have not responded to any of my previous attempts to contact you. You’ve already called out for so many days, and now you are ignoring me entirely?
It doesn’t take a genius to guess where this is going, and I can’t even blame him for that. I saw all his missed calls when I woke up, and I chose to ignore them. I’m ignoring everything at this point.
Jordan
You have left me with no choice but to terminate your employment with us. I hope whatever is going on with you gets better soon.
The last part of that text is really irritating. Jordan is—was—my boss at a stupid fucking office that I hate, and I know for a fact he doesn’t give two shits what is going on with me and he couldn’t care less if it “gets better.”
I want it to get better too, but I know it won’t. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I don’t need to worry about next month’s rent because I probably won’t be alive. It would be so easy to just end my suffering right now.
It’s not as if sitting in an office all day was my dream. I don’t even know what I used to dream of. It always felt like everyone around me had some semblance of an idea of how their lives would go, but me? I was lagging behind for so long—waiting and waiting for it to click.
But it never did.
No one would miss me. Even if I left some vindictive ass suicide note I doubt my family would even read it. If they did, would they care? Would they be able to move on with their lives knowing they made me feel this way?
I bet they could. They’d probably be happy, too. No more worrying about how faggy Duncan is tarnishing the family legacy or whatever bullshit they’d use to justify it. I hate this. I hate everything.
Stripping down to my underwear, I gently curl up next to Chalupa. He’s pretty cuddly for a cat, but I don’t want him to get disturbed and run off. His purring is soft, just barely present but enough to make the room feel so much more welcoming.
Idly stroking his orange and black fur, I shut my eyes and lay there like a corpse. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to give up on life. I want things to get better. I want to be happy again—but what does happiness mean to me?
When was I ever happy? Pretending to be who everyone wants me to be doesn’t make me happy, but that brings up an even worse question: who am I? That’s something everyone asks at some point and time, but I genuinely don’t know the answer.
I just don’t know.
Pitter-patter.
I wake up to the sound of Chalupa’s little feet zooming across the hardwood tile. Meowing like a freak, he continues running circles until he hears the sheets rustle and realizes I’m awake now.
Warm rays of early morning sun slip through the cracks in my curtains, but in spite of the fact I slept until morning, I’m not rested at all. In some ways my body almost feels more sluggish than it did yesterday.
“Yeah, yeah…” I grumble, climbing out of bed and walking over to the kitchen. Chalupa follows behind me with his tail raised up high, screaming as though he’s never been fed in his life.
His dry food rattles against the confines of his metal bowl, spilling from the nearly-empty bag. When I set it down he begins wolfing it down with the hunger of an animal that never eats ever, which makes me roll my eyes with a smirk. At least someone is happy with what he’s got.
After giving him a few pets I return to my room and grab my phone, only to be blasted with a shit ton of missed texts.
Haley
how are you feeling today?
finn from gas station
Hi, Duncan! I'm on break, and I'm thinking about burgers! Or, well, getting burgers with you! Did you get home safe? I hope you did!
Tomorrow, I have the day off! If you text or call when you’re awake, maybe we can plan something? It’s fine if not, though! I don’t want to annoy you.
Sorry for sending so many messages! I’m really sorry. ^^”
Each of Finn’s messages have around five minutes between them. It’s kind of cute to imagine him overthinking them and desperately trying to fix it only to make it worse.
Like I said before, harmless. I should reply to Haley though. I don’t want to keep her worrying about me. I don’t really want her to worry about me at all anymore. Whatever happens happens and it's not her fault.
im okay haley :) i feel a bit better this morning. im trying to be less on my phone and just more in the moment. dont worry about me, okay?
And yeah, I should reply to Finn too.
hi, finn! i got home safe. when do you wanna hang out?
It’s oddly fun to feign a social life. Certainly makes me feel like less of a loser, that’s for sure. I expected Haley to reply first, especially considering the fact Finn worked all night, but he’s the one who shoots me a response almost instantly.
finn from gas station
I’m free all day! If you’d like, I can come pick you up!
as sweet as that sounds, have you even slept yet?
I had a small nap! I’m not tired. I drank a lot of energy drinks during my shift.
promise you wont get into an accident that kills us both?
Yes! I promise! I really, wholeheartedly, promise!
Making him come pick me up after I know for a fact he got no sleep is probably a little ehh, but he’s obviously excited to hang out with me, and I’m excited to hang out with him too. Plus, who am I to deny a wholehearted promise?