Dan's POV
I continued to stare at the ceiling, hiding from my mother. It was normal for me to do that, and my room was usually where you could find me if I'm inside my house. If not I'm down the street at the park, probably somewhere up high, where I feel safer. I don't know why, but I just love to be off the ground, my feet dangling, where I can see everything that happens to the people below.
You know why you love it, because you can just fall and be done with it all.
No, bad idea, that's not it.
Looking at the clock, I could see that it was five-thirty already. I only had a half hour until my mum would get off of work, and about five minutes between the time that she would leave the hospital and get to our house. She's a Nurse Practitioner, which is pretty much between being a doctor and being a nurse. She usually came home late, though I didn't count on it, as I had learned not to do when I was younger. It's not that I would get hit if I didn't avoid her, or anything like that, it's just that I rather dislike a lot of the comments she decides to make. I usually just avoid her for as long as possible—sometimes for weeks at a time—and when I do see her I just try not to heed any of what she says. It does get to me, however, since when it all started I was already at a low mental stability, and none of her remarks helped. That, however, is a story for another time, since I have to get out of here soon.
Before I know it, my zoning out has led it to be six-sixteen, and I hear the familiar crunch of gravel on our driveway.
Shit.
I don't have anywhere to go, since she'll know that I'm home (she always does, I don't even know how anymore, and I've given up on caring about it). Within seconds I heard the keys turn to the front door, and I knew that this would be one of the days that I couldn't run away. However, I tried to hide from her anyways, hoping that I could be just overlooked or something.
You know, if you followed through with my plan, we could get out of this fast and easy! Not have to deal with any of this.
No, it's not a good idea, I have to live, and I have so much I can live for!
"Daniel, I know that you're home. The dinner is Chinese take-out—since you're not quite the cook that Adrian is." Already, she was comparing me to my older brother, Adrian. Already, she was complaining that I wasn't as good of a son as my brother. I tried to ignore it, but I still felt the pain like a slap in the face. I didn't express it, though; I was used to hiding how much what she says hurts.
"Yeah, okay. I'll be down in a bit." You're lying; you'll be down when she's gone.
I know.
"Whatever." She doesn't care. She doesn't care about you, and doesn't want to see you. The only thing she wants to see is you crash and burn.
I know.
I sat there, listening in on the argument inside of my own head. Both voices were my own, yet I knew that they were distinctly different. I've always had them, with their small differences, but ever since the incident with my brother, they've been definitely different. There's the happy side and the sad side, to put it simply. When the incident first happened, the happy side was just as loud as the sad side, but over time the happy side has lost its strength, and it has become just a vulnerable little whisper, whilst the sad side yells and screams whatever it thinks. None of what it thinks is helping me, though.
You could die. You know you can, it's easier. Just do it. Death. Jump off the bridge. Break a shard of glass and bleed out. Drown yourself in the bath. Anything. Just find a way to die.
No. I have to live. I have to keep going, since it will get better. That's just a permanent solution to temporary problem.
Quoting the gatherings now, are you? The ones that you're forced into at school against suicide? What about how you absolutely detest? So you're going to stoop so low as to pick sides with the people you hate? This is the real world. You can't do that here, it's one side or the other. There's no in-between, like you wish. If you say that you're against them, you're against. Don't think you could let these sorts of things just pass by me.
But… life. Something good could happen.
With your luck? No. You know that you're just a mistake of this planet. Don't try to convince yourself something good could come out of it. You've known how much goes wrong just for you since Adrian died! Ever since you let him die, I should say. The world is trying to get you back. It should've been you, the worthless one!
I flipped over. I hated it. I knew that it was my own mine, yet I didn't do this to myself—not on purpose. I hated it. I absolutely loathed it. I hated my own mind. And I knew that there was no way I could get out of it and survive.
I had to find a way to get out of this, without having it all end, but I just don't know how.
