Teenagers
Boy's Bathroom
Frank’s been spending an awful lot of time with Gerard lately. It’s fine, well; in the beginning it was fine.
They’re both so happy when they hang out together, and it helps Gee forget. Forget everything that recently happened and forget how challenging every breath can be.
Gee decided they should start a band together and they’ve been jamming nonstop since. They’re good. Really good. I wish I was that good. But I’m not, and I spend most of my days on my own now. I read allot. I draw allot. I daydream allot.
I daydream about the things that I wish Frank would notice and the things I miss, like his arms and soft voice when he’d comfort me and hold me close. The times he wasn’t trying to rip our clothes off as fast as possible only to be rejected by me because, correct me if I’m wrong, but getting off with Frank while Gerard is sleeping on the other side of the wall doesn’t really seem morally right.
I daydream about what the future would be like if I was as talented as them and how bright everything would seem.
I feel really horrible for feeling the things that I feel because I have two people who love me so much. They just don’t have time for me right now. And I guess that should be fine. If I was that talented I probably wouldn’t have time for me either. I’m an idiot for expecting them to make time for me.
I’ve gone to bed and the guys are out jamming. They recently started renting a rehearsal room and are taking this extremely seriously. Frank hardly even goes to school anymore.
It’s just past midnight. I went to bed hours ago, just about the time they went out. I’m starting to worry. Why aren’t’ they home yet? It’s not like me worrying will help if they are in trouble, and I’m not saying they are, but I just can’t help it.
I wonder what they are doing. I remember when Frank and I would lose ourselves in each other. We’d lose track of time just hanging out. What if they’re having as much fun as Frank and I did. What if they’re having morefun. I think they are. I’m just a good old drag. I bet they only hang out with me because they feel bad and would rather just elope and peruse the band. Life on the road. Away from me.
Suddenly the room is spinning and I’m getting nauseous. Shit! I can’t fucking breathe. Without noticing I’ve started crying, sobbing actually. My hands are shaking as they make their way to my throat, trying to force the air out. I’m heaving for air. Hyperventilating like a maniac. I’m losing consciousness, and the dark room is fading away from me. Everything is so distant and nothing seems real. I feel like I’m somewhere far away, looking at myself and seeing only how pathetic I am. I don’t know why, but I lift my hand up in front of my eyes, looking at it, staring at it. Trying to focus on it and it all comes rushing back and I’m here again. Still trapped. Still in Franks apartment. Still alone.
I hear the front door shut quietly. At least they have the decency to try not to wake me.
Muted laughs and a-bit-to-loud whisper-screams sound from the living room. I hear a “shhh” and everything is silent but footsteps hurrying across the floor. I don’t know why, but I don’t say anything. I don’t do anything. I don’t tell them that I’m still awake, I don’t say hi. I just lay here. Drowning. Not willing to swim or even try. I’m not even flinching because I’ve just been stabbed in the back and I’m numb. I can’t feel it, and I don’t care.
Maybe I should just go home. Maybe I should just go back to mom and dad, because being rejected by them would hurt less than this, and, as selfish as it is to admit, laying alone in the darkness all day would be less painful than seeing Frank and Gerard so happy together. Seeing how great their lives would be without me.
The thing that hurts the most is that I can’t go back. I want to go back and tell myself that I’m better off on my own and if that doesn’t work, tell myself not to take any second for granted because things will get bad again. Depression won’t ever leave me and I think I can accept that now. I won’t be ok. I won’t be fine. I won’t be normal.
Frank sneaks into bed, next to me. Thinking that I’ve fallen asleep he undresses, my back is turned so he can’t see the tears soaking my pillow. His warm arms wrap around my bare chest and I lose myself in them for only a second.
His breath is warm to my ear.
“Mikey?” he whispers. “You asleep?”
I ignore him.
He starts pulling my pants down, thinking his hand around my dick will be a pleasant way to wake me, but I pull them back up. I don’t want that. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want to tell him how I feel. I don’t want him to jerk me off while my brother is in the next room. I don’t want him to always be so fucking aroused after being with Gerard.
I just want him to know. I want him to understand, like he used to. I used to not have to tell him anything and he knew. Just from the look in my eye or the fakeness of my smile.
“Feisty...” he giggles as he starts kissing the back of my neck.
“Fuck off.” I jump to my feet, barely grabbing a coat as I sprint out of the apartment and into the night.
After hours of walking in the bitter darkness and focusing only on my thoughts any the smoke coming from my mouth, I’ve only gotten angrier. I bet they’re both sound asleep while I’m pacing around, freezing my ass off. I bet they’re not even slightly worried.
It’s a school night and New Jersey is a crime ridden area but as much as these things worry me, they don’t worry me enough to turn around. I just keep walking, and eventually make my way to the shirk place. This is probably the safest place to be right now because Frank, Gerard and I are probably the only ones who know it exists, so I nuzzle my knobby knees up to my chest, and rest my head on them.
Next thing I know the sun is peeking through the frosty trees I’m facing. It is morning, but I don’t know what time. My head hurts, but I know perfectly fine where I am and what’s going on.
I get to my shaky feet and brush off the crispy, fall leaves that have stuck to my PJ-pants.
Might as well go to school. It’s not like Frank will be there. He’s probably out doing something with his life. Getting off at the thought of being famous.
Boy am I wrong, the second I open the main entrance to the high school I’m ambushed by hugs and involuntary kisses. I shove him off. Hurrying to class and hoping that he leaves. He doesn’t. Boy is he persistent.
He follows me into my next class, trying to get me to talk.
“Tell me what I’ve done!”
I don’t answer.
“Just tell me what I’ve FUCKING DONE!”
I still don’t answer.
Eventually we’re forced to leave class with a detention slip, but Frank drags me into the boy’s bathroom, midst silent treatment, on the way to the principal’s office.
He slams the door behind us and checks every bathroom stall, making sure that we’re alone. He then aggressively rams me to the wall as I flinch at the expected pain. There is none. He knows his strength, and knows how to use it.
He stares into my eyes, melting the ice I’d frozen him out with with his warm, hazel glare.
“Tell me what I’ve done so I can change.” There are tears surfacing in both of our eyes now.
My arm pulls back and as I feel an internal explosion of rage. I throw a punch and hit him right in the nose.
“HOW DARE YOU!” I hit him again. This time in the stomach. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! YOU- YOU- YOU FUCKING LEFT ME AND YOU DIDN’T LOOK BACK! DID YOU THINK ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! REALLY?! DID YOU!?”
He stumbles back, leaning on the sink as blood gushes out of his nose. There’s a shooting pain forming in my hand but I can’t focus on anything but the blood. Suddenly I realize what I’ve done.
They’re both so happy when they hang out together, and it helps Gee forget. Forget everything that recently happened and forget how challenging every breath can be.
Gee decided they should start a band together and they’ve been jamming nonstop since. They’re good. Really good. I wish I was that good. But I’m not, and I spend most of my days on my own now. I read allot. I draw allot. I daydream allot.
I daydream about the things that I wish Frank would notice and the things I miss, like his arms and soft voice when he’d comfort me and hold me close. The times he wasn’t trying to rip our clothes off as fast as possible only to be rejected by me because, correct me if I’m wrong, but getting off with Frank while Gerard is sleeping on the other side of the wall doesn’t really seem morally right.
I daydream about what the future would be like if I was as talented as them and how bright everything would seem.
I feel really horrible for feeling the things that I feel because I have two people who love me so much. They just don’t have time for me right now. And I guess that should be fine. If I was that talented I probably wouldn’t have time for me either. I’m an idiot for expecting them to make time for me.
I’ve gone to bed and the guys are out jamming. They recently started renting a rehearsal room and are taking this extremely seriously. Frank hardly even goes to school anymore.
It’s just past midnight. I went to bed hours ago, just about the time they went out. I’m starting to worry. Why aren’t’ they home yet? It’s not like me worrying will help if they are in trouble, and I’m not saying they are, but I just can’t help it.
I wonder what they are doing. I remember when Frank and I would lose ourselves in each other. We’d lose track of time just hanging out. What if they’re having as much fun as Frank and I did. What if they’re having morefun. I think they are. I’m just a good old drag. I bet they only hang out with me because they feel bad and would rather just elope and peruse the band. Life on the road. Away from me.
Suddenly the room is spinning and I’m getting nauseous. Shit! I can’t fucking breathe. Without noticing I’ve started crying, sobbing actually. My hands are shaking as they make their way to my throat, trying to force the air out. I’m heaving for air. Hyperventilating like a maniac. I’m losing consciousness, and the dark room is fading away from me. Everything is so distant and nothing seems real. I feel like I’m somewhere far away, looking at myself and seeing only how pathetic I am. I don’t know why, but I lift my hand up in front of my eyes, looking at it, staring at it. Trying to focus on it and it all comes rushing back and I’m here again. Still trapped. Still in Franks apartment. Still alone.
I hear the front door shut quietly. At least they have the decency to try not to wake me.
Muted laughs and a-bit-to-loud whisper-screams sound from the living room. I hear a “shhh” and everything is silent but footsteps hurrying across the floor. I don’t know why, but I don’t say anything. I don’t do anything. I don’t tell them that I’m still awake, I don’t say hi. I just lay here. Drowning. Not willing to swim or even try. I’m not even flinching because I’ve just been stabbed in the back and I’m numb. I can’t feel it, and I don’t care.
Maybe I should just go home. Maybe I should just go back to mom and dad, because being rejected by them would hurt less than this, and, as selfish as it is to admit, laying alone in the darkness all day would be less painful than seeing Frank and Gerard so happy together. Seeing how great their lives would be without me.
The thing that hurts the most is that I can’t go back. I want to go back and tell myself that I’m better off on my own and if that doesn’t work, tell myself not to take any second for granted because things will get bad again. Depression won’t ever leave me and I think I can accept that now. I won’t be ok. I won’t be fine. I won’t be normal.
Frank sneaks into bed, next to me. Thinking that I’ve fallen asleep he undresses, my back is turned so he can’t see the tears soaking my pillow. His warm arms wrap around my bare chest and I lose myself in them for only a second.
His breath is warm to my ear.
“Mikey?” he whispers. “You asleep?”
I ignore him.
He starts pulling my pants down, thinking his hand around my dick will be a pleasant way to wake me, but I pull them back up. I don’t want that. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want to tell him how I feel. I don’t want him to jerk me off while my brother is in the next room. I don’t want him to always be so fucking aroused after being with Gerard.
I just want him to know. I want him to understand, like he used to. I used to not have to tell him anything and he knew. Just from the look in my eye or the fakeness of my smile.
“Feisty...” he giggles as he starts kissing the back of my neck.
“Fuck off.” I jump to my feet, barely grabbing a coat as I sprint out of the apartment and into the night.
After hours of walking in the bitter darkness and focusing only on my thoughts any the smoke coming from my mouth, I’ve only gotten angrier. I bet they’re both sound asleep while I’m pacing around, freezing my ass off. I bet they’re not even slightly worried.
It’s a school night and New Jersey is a crime ridden area but as much as these things worry me, they don’t worry me enough to turn around. I just keep walking, and eventually make my way to the shirk place. This is probably the safest place to be right now because Frank, Gerard and I are probably the only ones who know it exists, so I nuzzle my knobby knees up to my chest, and rest my head on them.
Next thing I know the sun is peeking through the frosty trees I’m facing. It is morning, but I don’t know what time. My head hurts, but I know perfectly fine where I am and what’s going on.
I get to my shaky feet and brush off the crispy, fall leaves that have stuck to my PJ-pants.
Might as well go to school. It’s not like Frank will be there. He’s probably out doing something with his life. Getting off at the thought of being famous.
Boy am I wrong, the second I open the main entrance to the high school I’m ambushed by hugs and involuntary kisses. I shove him off. Hurrying to class and hoping that he leaves. He doesn’t. Boy is he persistent.
He follows me into my next class, trying to get me to talk.
“Tell me what I’ve done!”
I don’t answer.
“Just tell me what I’ve FUCKING DONE!”
I still don’t answer.
Eventually we’re forced to leave class with a detention slip, but Frank drags me into the boy’s bathroom, midst silent treatment, on the way to the principal’s office.
He slams the door behind us and checks every bathroom stall, making sure that we’re alone. He then aggressively rams me to the wall as I flinch at the expected pain. There is none. He knows his strength, and knows how to use it.
He stares into my eyes, melting the ice I’d frozen him out with with his warm, hazel glare.
“Tell me what I’ve done so I can change.” There are tears surfacing in both of our eyes now.
My arm pulls back and as I feel an internal explosion of rage. I throw a punch and hit him right in the nose.
“HOW DARE YOU!” I hit him again. This time in the stomach. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! YOU- YOU- YOU FUCKING LEFT ME AND YOU DIDN’T LOOK BACK! DID YOU THINK ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! REALLY?! DID YOU!?”
He stumbles back, leaning on the sink as blood gushes out of his nose. There’s a shooting pain forming in my hand but I can’t focus on anything but the blood. Suddenly I realize what I’ve done.
11/2/13