CHAPTER TWENTY | Kenan
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kenan
The day after the betrayal
S TANDING IN FRONT OF my bedroom door, I stare at it knowing I’m about to walk into an empty room that will do nothing but haunt me. Reminding me of what I’ve lost. I won’t hear her laughter as they laugh and joke on the bed. I won’t see her lying there in my shirt. He won’t be propped up on his elbow smiling down at her as she lays on her back. The images assault my brain like it's personally pissed at me, like it didn't give me the idea to trap her in the first place.
There won’t be any late night runs down to the library because she finished the book and wants a new one at one in the morning. When I open the door, the first thing I notice is the last book she was reading on my nightstand, the bookmark sticking out in the middle of it. She didn’t even get to finish it.
I’m not a pussy. I will not fucking cry. I’m a man.
Rolling my eyes as I kick the door shut I realize that sounds stupid, even if it was in my head. Yesterday, after Onyx left, Beckett punched me, yelling at me about how I will never have anyone special in my life if I continue to treat them like trash.
I know who I am, I’ve never cared about the opinions of others, until now. When I’ve sunken so fucking low and there’s no way back to how things were before. I’ve tasted love, I’ve felt peace, and I’ve royally screwed it all up.
Two weeks after the betrayal
I shove two pills into my mouth, washing them down with a shot of tequila that I suck out of a woman’s navel. Biting into the lime from her mouth, she ‘woohoos’ way too fucking loud. “Wanna go in the back?” She asks against my ear as I pull the lime out of my mouth, shrugging.
She hops off the bar table and takes my hand, leading me down a hallway as I grab a beer from the bar and take a drink, washing the sour taste out of my mouth. She turns into a room about halfway down the hall and flips a light on. I watch as she pulls her underwear down and I shake my head, “Suck me off.” I tell her, unzipping my pants as I fish out my dick. When she sucks me into her mouth, I close my eyes and the first thing that pops into my head is her. Onyx, the beautiful blonde bombshell who fucked my whole world up and then left me in the dust.
No. Clear your head. Live in the moment. Think of... next my mind wanders to Beck, who I haven’t seen since Onyx left.
“Don’t you like it baby?” Her voice breaks through my thoughts and I look down, seeing the red lipstick smeared on her face and the base of my dick.
I don’t, this is wrong. “Fuck off.” I say, pushing her to the ground as I tuck myself back into my pants.
“It’s okay. Drinking and pills can do that, it just takes some work. Come on, sit down, I’ll help you forget whatever you’re running from.” I don’t even know her name, but that’s who I’m trying to get back to, the guy before Onyx. The guy who would fuck this random bitch up against the wall and then leave her here, crying in a mess of our making.
But I can’t do that, not anymore. She showed me who I could be, the man I want to be. Now I have no one and I just need to learn to live with it. Turning on my heels, I pull the door back open and speed walk back through the bar until I hit the counter, grabbing the attention of the person back there. Tall man, tattoos and a wide smile, perfect, not a woman. “I’m trying to forget myself.” I tell him.
“If you’re trying to forget everything, shots of Pink Whitney are the route to take, and at least they taste good.” he says, laughing.
“Pink Whitney shots it is then, and keep them coming.” I say, dropping three hundred dollars on the bar. He nods and pours me the first one as I take a seat, letting the bass of the music beat in my chest, downing the burn that I wish hurt more.
Seventeen shots, that’s how many I’ve taken, and if I stand up right now, I won’t stay upright, considering I’m not even sitting up, I’m laying my head on the bar, waiting for the alcohol and pills to take me under, hopefully never letting me up again.
One month after the betrayal
I can’t feel my face as I laugh, but it’s not a real laugh, it’s a laugh that you do when someone says something they think is funny and it’s polite to laugh at it. I don’t even know where I’m at, some fucking house party.
How did I get here? I look around for anyone I know, seeing nothing but unknown faces in the sea of people. People, living their lives while I drown in my misery. Why can't they see it? Everyone around me seems to be living their lives while I'm stuck here in a bubble of sadness, my pain completely invisible to everyone. The song playing sounds familiar, but the voice is different.
“Who is singing?” I ask, looking at the random DJ in the corner of the living room, clear across the house from where I currently sit as someone lines the white powder bliss in front of me.
“Ah, bro, this is MGK, I think it’s a cover, Misery Business by that emo chick singer.” He's a surfer dude look alike, long shaggy blonde hair, eyes slit from being stoned and a weird flowery shirt. Where the fuck am I? I just nod as he keeps talking, someone handing me a rolled up bill as I lean forward, taking the hit. It burns going down and I make weird sounds as I fall back against the couch, letting it rush as my brain and body register what I’ve just taken.
I’m not even sure how high I am, I’m too numb to know.
“Where am I?” I ask, looking over to see a sexy clown doing some sort of fucking dance on a table in the background.
“At a party! How high are you?” Someone asks, but I’ve already forgotten what we’re talking about as I look at my hand, moving it in front of my face. The second my hand connects with my face, there’s a feeling of needles in my cheek. My eyes feel heavy. Maybe just a quick nap before my next line.
Two months after the betrayal
“Is he dead?” I hear someone ask as I try to open my eyes, but they feel like they’re taped down. I lift my hand to rub at them to help them open but I’m not sure if my arm is moving or not.
“Get him upstairs.” Someone barks out in disappointment, whoops, it’s probably mother dearest. This is all her fault anyway.
Oh, I’m flying. I love flying. The feeling of weightlessness is amazing. But when my head hits something I groan. “Serves you right asshole.” Someone else shoves me hard as I roll over onto my stomach, feeling a soft pillow I pull it against my head and get comfortable, ready to just fade the fuck away. For once, I don’t want to wake up.
––––––––
Three months after the betrayal
T HE SONG BLARING IN my earbuds sends me into a fucking rage as I tip the bottle of whatever dark liquor this is, letting half of it pour into my stomach. The cars honk and drive by me so fast as I stand out here, looking down at the water moving beneath me.
“Get off the bridge!” Someone shouts as an earbud falls out of my ear and tumbles down into the dark abyss that is the river.
“Oops.” I hiccup, waving bye to the earbud.
“Are you insane?” Another voice shouts, fading away just as fast as the one before.
The wind is fierce tonight, whipping my shirt around as the cars fly by creating a sort of vortex right where I stand. The leaves and trash at the edge of the bridge rotate just above the ground.
I’ve brought so much pain into the world, tearing apart one life after another. I’ve never been able to help anyone, my life is one tragic step after another. I’ve lost everything and I’ve tried everything else except shooting myself. I tried but I couldn’t pull the trigger.
Pills. Check, had my stomach pumped probably four times in the last month alone.
Alcohol. Check, found myself barfing too many times to count, and drowning in sorrow as I heaved to the porcelain gods.
Cutting. Check, slit my wrist two weeks ago, and surprise. I’m still here, granted I was forced into a seventy-two hour watch, for my own safety, but after a stern talk from my parents, I was released.
“Mazitti or not, you don’t get to just fucking check out. Life is hard, but nothing should ever be so bad that you kill yourself. It’s selfish and you might hurt now, but imagine how your sisters and brothers would feel. The pain you’d put on them would be never ending.” My mother’s voice rings hard in my head as I stare down at my fingers.
I’ve been trying to kill myself for a month straight, and nothing has worked. I left the house, with the intention of getting tacos tonight and going back home to try and start accepting my fate.
Instead her playlist played in my car, playing the last song that she listened to with my phone. Looking down at my knuckles, I see the busted skin from punching the screen in the car. Then, I parked at the casino, bought myself a bottle and walked over to the bridge.
I down the rest of the liquid and toss the bottle down, counting how long it takes to hit, not long. It could all be over in the blink of an eye. I sway in the wind, holding onto the bridge. Taking a deep breath, I look up at the design of it. The tall pylon and cables make it unique which is cool and all. I can’t even remember the bridge's name, but it’s after some dude.
You can’t really see the stars due to all of the light pollution, which makes my heart sink. It would have been nice staring at the stars, taking that vision with me to the end.
Turning around to face the traffic, I see all of them zipping by as I spread my arms wide, close my eyes and just fall.
Onyx.
Beck.
I’m sorry.