Unapologetic Apathy

*Frank's POV*

I was a wreck. With a grand total of no sleep at all last night, I had spent the dark hours alone on my bed staring at the long sharp knife nestling amongst my grey sheets. Unblinking and my eyes unfocused I waited for the courage to just pick up the damn blade. This was not the first time I had done this, nor the last it seems.

As dull daylight gradually seeped though my shuttered window I sighed heavily, finally shifting. Reaching forward slowly and coming in contact with the knife handle, I let out a slight grunt when leaving the position occupied the entire night. I stretched painfully, almost falling off the bed and glancing out of habit toward the material-covered mirror in the corner. I huffed, scouring the wooden floorboards below me in search of my dirty socks from yesterday and taking quick note of my thighs. Thin pale scars laced over my skin, a neat lattice of raised ridges formed from my flesh. I hadn't used a razor for a while now, having lost all motivation to do anything at all. Cutting used to be my way of feeling alive, until it no longer worked. Now all I have is a sardonic, twisted sense of humour and an unheathy dose of self loathing for company. I guess I'm alive then. Yay me.

I slumped backwards to my bed after suddenly losing all my energy. Staring blankly at the dim shroud of my ceiling, the only sound throughout the house came from the slight click of the automatic heater switching off. The silence stretched, and somehow the lack of noise became deafening. More and more sunlight dribbled through the shutters, forcing me to close my eyes as they smarted and stung. I remained draped listlessly sideways across my filthy crumpled sheets for at least another hour, slowly drawing and expelling oxygen from my lungs, hating life, hating that I couldn’t just hold my breath, that I couldn’t just die.

My mind drifted, past the emptiness clouding my consciousness as I remembered a face. Since I couldn’t remember what I had for dinner last night (if I even ate) I wasn’t able to place it. The face belonged to a boy the same age as me if not slightly older, an interesting face. An uncommon (though admittedly attractive) shape, accompanied with a sharp jawline surrounded by an inky black mess of too long hair. Obviously dyed, but nonetheless creating a mysterious moody persona. Nothing about this boy was nondescript, from his intense hazel-honey peepers, to his delicate pixie nose.

Without noticing I had hauled my exhausted body into a sitting position for my quest of remembrance. He seemed to be... shocked? Yes, he appeared unsettled. I felt a small frown crease my forehead as I lost myself in thought. Something happened yesterday-

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING! BRR-

I shrieked to high heaven and launched myself off the bed, landing on the hardwood boards of the floor in a ungainly heap, adrenalin pumping and my sight buzzing in fear and shock. I let out another unmanly yelp when a solid box like object walloped me over the back of the head and crashed in a bundle of loose wires and warped plastic, the ghastly cacophony ceasing altogether.

"Shit." I muttered dejectedly, realizing the object was indeed my alarm clock. I flopped into the dark recesses of 'under the bed land', still tangled in my blankets and breathing heavily. I can't go back to school, anywhere but back to hell on earth. I was failing everything ever invented, and I hardly had any parents around to help. My dad was dead, died ages ago so I never knew him, and I didn't even know where my mum was. But I had no social workers banging on my door, my school fees were paid for and I had 100 dollars in my bank account once a week, so I learnt not to question it. It was lonely though.

"Fuck it, m'not moving." I glanced around the enclosed shadowed space I had rolled into, and spotted a small cardboard box covered in dust hidden in the corner. "Oh yeah." I grumbled, reaching over and snagging the forgotten packet of cigarettes. I shuffled sideways slightly while grabbing the foot of my bedside dresser and tugged, causing the lighter and chewing gum that resided upon the vanity to tumble to ground beside me. Snatching up the lighter I ignited the end of a coffin nail and took a deep luxurious drag.

Then the fucking doorbell rang.

Notes

Sorry 'bout the lateness, term three of school just started.
I'm already failing so bad...