"Toshiya?"
"…."
"Toshiya?"
A knock on the door.
I try to ignore it. I don´t want to see anybody. Don´t want to hear anybody. I just want to be alone. Sitting at my window, my head leans against the cold glass. Sunset. Some birds not much more than mere shadows. It is still quite early in the afternoon and already kinda dark. Just a few weeks to go and it will be winter.
A knock again. The doorknob is turned.
"Toshiya, sweetheart…please open the door."
I don´t. I just keep on sitting there. Staring blankly into space. Crying soundlessly. My shirt is already wet and my face probably tearstained. My eyes red and swollen.
I don´t care.
About nothing. Nothing matters to me anymore. I hadn´t have taken a shower in a week or so. I am wearing these clothes since three days.
I don´t care.
There is no reason anymore. No reason….since eight months, two weeks and three days.
"Toshiya! Open the door, darling!"
I turn my head towards the door.
"mom….go away….please" My voice is strangely stable.
"Dinner´s ready. Would you.."
"I am not hungry. Leave me alone, please."
I hear her footsteps leaving. I turn my head back to the window. She doesn´t understand what´s going on. I never told her. I never could. I don´t think I ever will. Too much happened….I did too much stuff of what she doesn´t have a clue. Too much stuff happened to me of which she doesn´t want to know of. In her world I am her perfect son.
I never was. I just pretended to be most of the time. For her sake and for mine. She could never cope with it. It just doesn´t fit in her perfect little world. But she doesn´t seem to be too interested. She never even once asked me why I never go out anymore. Why I rarely eat. Why I rarely talk. Why I nearly never leave my room. Why I hadn´t been to school at all in my final year. Although I am not even sure if she has realised that. I am definitely not repeating the year. I am not even sure if I´ll be still alive when next term starts. I see no reason why I should be. Without an aim in life.
And most of all without him.
I met him three years ago at a party that took place in some more or less shabby backyard. He looked very hot in his ripped jeans, the black tank top and with this flaming red hair. He wore black eye shadow. His eyes looked so intense ´cause of this…I´ll never forget that.
His name was Die.
We were on mushrooms this night. I took nearly everything I could get my hands on.
I liked to blow my consciousness out of my head.
To stop thinking.
To stop feeling.
To stop remembering.
I was sexually abused when I was a kid. Some friend of my dad. No one believed me. Back then I was in my I-lie-about-everything phase…So the shit went on. For about a year. Then this guy was gone. No one knows where he went or why he left. Not that I would care, though. Hopefully he was stabbed in some dark backstreet and could feel his life pouring out of him. Or an airplane he was in crashed. Or exploded. Or both. Maybe he burned alive. I hope it was something like that. Hopefully he suffered. Like I did.
I lost belief in my parents back then. When I grew older I started doing drugs. I just couldn´t stand all this shit any longer. Daytime I was the perfect little boy…when it was dark the real me showed up. A pretty fucked up being; depressed, on drugs, trying to commit suicide at least once a month.
After this party I met him occasionally at other parties. Most of the time we were high so we didn´t talk that much.
Then one day I met him in my favourite library. I love reading. From horror to so-called-literature. I like this library that much, because it is kinda comfortable. Nice armchairs. Nice atmosphere. And kinda small, this place. When I entered he stood there pretty much in the middle of the store, reading one of my favourite books. He looked gorgeous again. Another ripped jeans and another tank top, but this time it was red. It fit his hair. I approached him a little hesitantly. When I am absolutely sober I am kinda shy. He only realized I was there when I was standing right in front of him. The book seemed to fascinate him. He smiled at me when he recognized me. How I love this smile. So full of warmth. We talked a little then. Mostly about the book. Then about other stuff we like to do. Lots of similarities. I started to like him. After this we met frequently. One day when we were on our way home after we were on this very crappy party on which you couldn´t even get some pot, a biker nearly hit me. While jumping aside I landed in his arms. His eyes reflected the stars´ soft shining light. His grip was strong but not uncomfortable. Normally I hate being touched, but obviously I didn´t care when he touched me. The kiss we shared was chaste but full of emotions. That was the moment that I realized I felt more than physical attraction towards him, although I never thought about it beforehand. I am kinda strange when I have to cope with feelings. I don´t like them. They hurt mostly. So I try to ignore them. Or suppress them. More or less the same act, though.
It took some time for us to become a couple. I refused in the beginning but he was damned stubborn. He bombarded me with phone calls, text messages and little presents. He acted like a goddamned stalker. Finally I gave in. I had to admit that I had fallen in love with him. I remember this conversation as if it had taken place only yesterday…
"Go away!"
"No…"
"Why the fuck are you so stubborn? I told you I don´t want to be with you. What else should I do so you get this into your stupid head?"
"Be honest. I know you´re lying. I see it in your eyes. Every time you look at me they sparkle. Even now they do. So please tell me the real reason why you refuse to be with me." His eyes were pleading. It was kinda heartbreaking.
"You don´t wanna know. Believe me. You don´t…"
"Yes, I do! C´mon Toshiya….you can trust me. Whatever it is….I will understand."
Honestly I didn´t really believe him. I don´t easily trust people. Especially since that stuff happened to me back then. But the look in his eyes melted my inner walls away. Kinda. I let him have what he wanted. Me. It took me months to open up to him. At least a little bit. I knew it frustrated him that I never told him what was really going on. I just couldn´t. I always had to handle my problems on my own. It´s not easy to change this. To believe someones´ words. We fought quite a lot about this matter. We even broke up. For a week or so. Than he came over and begged me to take him back. That he would love me more than himself. I didn´t know what to do. Confront him with my inner demons? My depression? Tell him that I want to commit suicide at least twice a week? In the end I did. Although I hated it. I did it just for him. Because he asked me to. I don´t know what else I would have done if he would have asked me to.
Life just went on. I went to school and he went to college. In the night we went out for parties, getting high. One night I had an overdose and was brought to a hospital. My parents never showed up. I still don´t know if they know that this happened. Die thought I wanted to commit suicide. It needed some time to make him believe me that it happened by accident.
Afterwards he was even more caring and loving. Heartbreaking. I felt horrible for not being able to pay it back to him. I wouldn´t even have known how to do so. My depression became worse. I felt useless somehow. But I didn´t tell him. Like I didn´t tell him that I was raped again. A stranger in a backstreet this time. I went partying on my own, because Die had to study for some exam. I was pretty high and stumbled more than that I was walking towards home. I was grabbed and raped. I don´t think I even tried to fight against him. Fighting just makes it worse. I know it. I experienced this before.
I guess that was one the final drops of water in my already too full glass. Some days later, after spending most of the time in my shower, I wanted to kill myself again. I stood on top of our building. The sun was just a faint glow far away at the horizon. What a beautiful sight. We live in a pretty city. Birds were chirping in the trees below, some were flying around, being mere shadows in the sunset.
Die tried to save me. He rescued me and fell down himself. He tripped. That easy.
After taking so many drugs over the years, driving in drunken states and my countless suicide attempts…he lost his life, because of me. Because I was to slow. If I would´ve jumped just a minute before he grabbed me from behind he would be still alive. Not me.
His name was Die.
Cruel Irony, isn´t it?
I look up at the moon through my window.
I am not crying anymore.
I feel completely numb.
The final drop finally sank in.
I stand up from my place at the window and walk slowly towards my door. The house is dark, everything lies in silence.
I enter the rooftop and the wind encircles me, letting my long hair dance. I walk over to the rim and jump of the roof without thinking twice.
I don´t even feel my bones break.
Eight months, two weeks and four days.