Three Days Grace
He used to be happy. He used to be full of joy, and ideas, and he would never sit still. His mother used to call him Gimme Jimmy, because he always wanted something as a kid. But now he was just James, the kid that never came out of his room. And although I was sure no one would ever blame me, I knew it was my fault. If I hadn't gotten mad at him, if I had stayed by his side and protected him, he never would've been in this mess.
But then I remembered what he tried to do to me. The look on his eyes was one I had never seen before. It was lust mixed with greed, and I was scared. I was scared of the boy that I had grown up with, scared of my best friend. Every time I close my eyes I see the memory in my head.
I remember the jeers of his new pals yelling from behind us and the potent smell on his breath. His teeth were off colored as he whispered in my ear.
"Come on Chevy, don't embarrass me now. Give me a little something. Come on Chevy don't be a prude. Just try some Chevy. Colleges won't care."
It was uncomfortable and scary. All I wanted to do was hug my best friend tell him what these disgusting guys had tried to do to me. But I wasn't able to, because here was my friend, leading the pack, trying to get me to do something I wasn't comfortable doing. I remember running away, but that's the end of my recollection of that night.
The night haunted me for weeks, and there was only one thing I could do to clear my head. I needed to do what I had been avoiding; I needed to talk to Jimmy. I tried cornering him in school, texting him, calling him, I even sent him a goddamn letter. His only response was a post-it note on my locker. "I don't want to talk." I was hurt but I kept trying to get him to respond. But the more I tried, the more post-it notes I got, all holding that same message. Weeks later I was sitting in his kitchen waiting for him to come down from his room. Which was turning out to be a lost cause.
"Hey, Chevy?" I heard from behind me. I spin around at the counter top to look into the innocent eyes of Jimmy's younger sister Lily.
"Yeah bud?" I asked, inviting her to come and talk to me. Lily was the only girl in her family, so I was the closest thing she had to a sister.
"What's wrong with James?" she asked.
"What do you mean bud?"
"Well first off, he doesn't play his guitar anymore. Secondly, he won't talk to anyone since last week. And thirdly, you barely come around anymore, and when you do you just sit in the kitchen, pout, and eat my pudding." She said glaring at the pudding in my hands at her last point.
I put the food down and looked at her, I don't mean just glanced, I searched her face for something. I don't know what I was looking for. But all I could see in her tiny nine-year-old features were those similar to Jimmy. The green eyes struck me so strongly that I almost cried. I pulled her into my arms. I hugged her into reassurance. I hugged her the way I wished I could hug Jimmy.
"Will you talk to him soon?" Lily asked me.
"Soon." I nodded. Well consoled, Lily ran out the back door into the yard.
"What are you doing here?" I heard a voice from behind me. There Jimmy stood. Brown hair messed up, clothing scrunched. "You look like shit," I told him.
He looked at me with sad eyes, and underneath the shaggy hair, and disgusting smell, I could sense the old Jimmy coming back to the surface.
"We need to talk." I said as I led the way to his room.
When I reached the room I had practically grown up in, I looked around. Not much had changed over the years, but now looking at it, it seemed drastically different. It was no longer the room of a little boy, but of a young man. The posters were no longer sports stars and Disney produced bands. Instead it was motorcycles, and scantily clad women. I walked over to the mirror, the pictures stuck inside the wooden frame. His family, his hockey friends, and the picture at the top? It was the one I was least expecting, the two of us, when we were five, in ugly green and grey soccer uniforms. We were covered in dirt, holding popsicles, and dirty, sticky smiles spread wide across our faces. The naivety in our eyes was clearly evident. I felt a tear glide down my cheeks as I thought about how my best friend had changed.
"It's funny really." I heard him say from across the room. "Come look at this." He called me over to the window. The screen window was popping off in one corner, and the glass looked streaked. I looked out to the green, cleanly cut lawns of his neighborhood, mocking my completely dysfunctional life, falling apart around me, while they stay pristine, and arrogantly ignorant.
"We never stop moving, just look, cars constantly passing. We always have somewhere we have to be; somewhere we need to get to in 10 minutes. We never just," he sighed, "stop. But I guess that's why they call it the human race." He looked depressed. I cautiously put out a hand to touch him, but I couldn't, my brain wouldn't let me.
I turned back to the window. Young kids running around, playing on swings, and running up slides. I wish I could go back, I wish I could've never grown up.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, and jumped. My teeth on edge, he reached towards me again, and I backed up into the wall. I didn't know why I was doing it, it seemed to be reflex. The hurt in his eyes was evident, and I wanted to make him better.
"You're scared of me." He pointed out.
"But I don't want to be." I told him truthfully.
"I'm sorry." He told me, reaching out his hand for me.
"What for?" I asked. Wondering if he could possibly remember what happened.
"That day." He said. Dropping his hand when it was clear I wasn't going to take it. "I was an ass. I know I shouldn't have done it. It was stupid, and careless, and stupid."
"But you did." I told him. Not really sure if I was ready to forgive him.
"I've spent my whole life in everyone's shadow. My dad's, yours, Al's. Everyone expects me to be like you, like them. But what if I can't be, what if I don't belong." He laughed. "Who would have guessed it? The lawyer's son, a failure at everything." He continued laughing at his own private joke.
"Jimmy, you know that's not true."
"Shut up Chevy! You know it is!" he barked. I moved to sit on the bed to give him space.
"I've thought about suicide before Chevy. Did you know that? Those times where I would miss lunch last year, it was because I was sitting on the roof. 'I can't be a disappointment' I would think. 'I can never be a disappointment if I don't live long enough too disappoint.' I guessed people would just say that i could've done great things, would've done great things.' Except for you." He said looking me straight through. "You would've called me an idiot, even in death. You never were very sympathetic. You would've, Chevy. Trust me, I know you."
"What can I say to make it better? What do you want me to tell you?" I asked him, begged him.
"There's nothing you can say. It's too late." He coldly stated. He was no longer talking, he was purely stating.
"It's not too late! It's never too late!" I told him. Leaping up from my spot on the bed to hug him. I never wanted to let go. I squeezed tighter, trying to squeeze this scary, sad person right out of my Jimmy. Because that's what had happened. Some scary being had taken over my Jimmy.
"Chevy, you're my best friend, I know you want to do everything you can to stop me. But if you love me, you'll let me do what I have to. I only have one problem. I don't know how I would want to do it. The roof although cliché, it is probably really painful, and what if it doesn't work? That would effing suck. I could drown myself in the tub. But what if Lily walked in? she does that a lot. My parents would never let me be alone again, and I would be even more of an embarrassment. The method that seems most likely is ODing. My buddy gave me some stuff that I could use. He said that if I took a handful at once it would only be a matter of minutes. That would probably be the best. Die by my own supply." He joked but I knew he just didn't want me to pity him.
"No." I cried. The tears were starting to fall rapidly down my cheeks as I kept hugging him. "I can't let you do this. Jimmy, this isn't you, this is what you have turned into. You won't be a disappointment, to anyone. We will all love you no matter what." I told him.
"Oh cut the bull shit Chevy." He yelled, angry with me for fighting with him. "You know my parents. You hear them anytime someone walks into the house. 'This is our son Al, this is our daughter Lily, and that's James.' I'm not even important enough to be called their son. They only want what perfect. And look at me, I'm not it!"
"Fine then! Go! Kill yourself to spite them! Just forget your teammates, forget Al and Lily who care about you so much. Forget the people who have taught you for years, forget ME who has stood by your side through everything. ME, who is standing by your side NOW!"
"Chevy." He sighed and I pulled away.
"Don't you dare Chevy me!" I screamed at him.
"Calm down, okay." He reached to hug me again. But I backed away, hurt and betrayed.
"I cannot believe you. After everything I've done for you that you would even consider doing that to me. I don't have a family like you do Jimmy. I have you! And if you killed yourself I would never, could never forgive you." I told him honestly.
I saw his face fall as he thought about what I had said. He knew I was right. He knew he was being stupid.
"Give it to me." I told him, and he dug into his dresser to find what I had asked him for.
"Here", He said giving it to me.
"This is the cause of all of your problems, don't you see that? This is the root of everything. Before you had this you were fine, now you're this. You're unrecognizable. You're James instead of Jimmy."
"I know." He said as he pulled me in again for a hug.
I opened my eyes to see his room empty. I am holding myself instead of Jimmy. His family is nowhere to be found. The almost empty plastic bag I found in his dresser is next to the trashcan where I had thrown it in my anger at Jimmy's stupidity. I wish I could talk to him. Tell him I love him. Because I knew I was lying to myself, I was lying to the Jimmy in my head. I could forgive him. I would forgive him, because it was my fault in the first place.