It had seemed like so innocent. Well, if not innocent just mean fun, no shlaboggle. Dumping that paint on Rick had been awesome, the single funniest thing at Degrassi ever. And pinning it on Jimmy had been evil genius by Jay.
Things with me and Jimmy had kind of become strained. We were fighting. I just wanted to kill him sometimes. He'd picked on Rick, too, and all of a sudden he's his best buddy? What the hell? And he's telling me to back off? Jimmy could be so hypocritical.
But I never thought…I didn't think what happened would happen. Rick was a violent jerk but I didn't think he was a psycho. I swear I never would have done anything if I'd known. And it is all my fault. I dumped the paint on Rick and blamed Jimmy and now…now.
Jimmy could die. Die. Because of me. If Jimmy dies I don't know. I don't know how I'll go on. I prayed to God so hard, down on my knees next to my bed, 'please, God, please, don't let him die because I'm an idiot, please,' The thing with praying is you never know if God hears you.
I ruined everything. I don't know why I was even fighting with Jimmy so much lately. I love Jimmy. He's cool and he's such a good friend, but I'm not. I'm a terrible friend. I stole his ipod. Now I got him shot. The whole day was like this slow nightmare but it was real. At least with nightmares you wake up and it fades. This one is just getting starker and starker, obliterating everything. Crushing and destroying everything. All my friendships. All my dreams and my aspirations and being in the band and everything. It's crashing and burning, it's hanging on the end of the surgeons' scalpels as they operate on Jimmy right now.
No one knows that I ruined everything, except Alex and Jay. They won't tell. But I know. I know in my heart that I betrayed Jimmy and it's come to this. There's no going back, no "time out," or do overs or any of that kid stuff.
I could hardly hear the music as I laid on my bed, clutching the drumsticks in both fists like they could protect me. Nothing could protect me. Violence just gets unleashed in the world like some vicious animal, some rabid dog or wolf or something drooling and straining at the chain. It gets out and it destroys you.
Maybe Jimmy wouldn't die. Maybe he'd pull through and be okay, no worse for wear. Maybe we could put this whole thing behind us. Maybe things could go back to the way they were. So I was looking at the bright side, the glass half full side. It was all I could look at because the other side of the glass was so disturbing. I could imagine Jimmy's funeral, his face looking so still and unreal, the way dead people look. So odd, lips and eyelids sewn together, the make-up looking too powdery.
What would I do if that happened? I don't think I could survive it. Some of the music I'd put on was getting through, the discordant guitar and the screams. Then it would fade again, obliterated by my thoughts. I was screaming to God in my head, 'please, please, don't let Jimmy die, I'll do anything,' And still silence. Like that kid in The Sixth Sense says when he's walking in the school and sees the ghosts hanging in the doorway, he says, 'you stand really still and close your eyes and it feels like you're falling down really really far and really really fast but you're really standing perfectly still,' That's how I felt. I was falling down inside of myself. I'd gotten my best friend killed, or nearly killed. Nothing would ever be the same.
I'd go to the hospital soon. I had to go. I had to face what I'd done. But there was a part of me that didn't want to go, that said 'what good would it do?' I couldn't help him now. I'd helped him enough. But I would go. I owed him that. I owed him that much.
Rising so slowly, dropping the drum sticks to the floor and I heard their hollow double click and watched them roll. I turned off the music and the silence rushed in to take it's place. I looked out the window at the darkness, no stars or moon or anything. Just dark. Jimmy was out there. Maybe he was going to end up in the ultimate darkness. I didn't have a good feeling, not at all.