If I Lose Myself

Chapter 2

People started coming over soon after I finished the first slice of pizza. The doorbell made me jump when it first rang. I could hear Alfred running across the floor downstairs. Muffled talking could be heard and I assumed it was Arthur and Francis coming in, since Arthur is good friends with Alfred (and wouldn't miss a party with alcohol). He always comes first out of everybody, dragging Francis along. I think they're dating, but it's hard to tell. They have this love/hate relationship from what I've noticed.

I put my iPod on its charger connected to my computer, so everything is rather silent in my room. I look around at everything, admiring it. I painted the walls red, since it's my favorite color and the color of my country's flag.

I am from Canada. Well I want to say that even though I was born in America (I was very close to the border of Canada though). My mother was from there, living in Quebec for most of her life- that's how she learned to speak French and taught me and Al how to speak it. My father on the other hand was from this country, otherwise America. When my mother married my father, they moved to New York. Al believes that America is the greatest nation in the world. I have to disagree with him on that. Canada is totally the best. I mean, maple syrup and hockey are Canadian things, and are the greatest things ever invented in the universe. (Yes, they are. Don't disagree with me because I am right.)

To show my Canadian pride, the comforter of my bed is the Canadian flag. I also have a moderately sized flag above my desk as well. There are couple stacks of books on the floor, and couple of hockey sticks in the corner. Besides those, the desk, a bed, and a dresser my room is rather simple really. I like it that way. If you go into Al's room, it looks a tornado swept through it. It's a disaster in that room. And it's fully decorated in the American colors to show his pride.

I look towards my bed, remembering that I left Kuma on it this morning. I could never give up the plush, even though I'm 16 now. It's been with me since I was small child, given to me by my parents on my third birthday. Its fur is still a pristine white, since I was it all the time. The polar bear is really my only friend if you ask me, even if it can't speak or move. It is there and it's nice to wrap my arms around when I get lonely (which is more often these days, sadly).

You could hear more trudging of feet down below as more people pile into the house. This is going to be a long night.

I stay in my room as though I'm on an island. It's my personal paradise and no one else can step upon its shores. The thumping of shoes stopped after a bit, assuming that everyone has arrived. I can only guess that there are over a hundred people with the confines. Al turned on the music not long ago. The bass of some cruddy dance song is vibrating the whole house and has seeped into my room, destroying the peaceful atmosphere.

You could hear some people outside, yelling out mindless words. I get up from my soft bed and slide my feet over towards the window. My window faces the back-yard so I can see the pool area perfectly.

Teens were jumping into the pool with drinks in hand, getting fully drenched in the water. I turn around so I didn't have to look. I dislike seeing people so happy, laughing with their friends who never forget them.

I can't remember the last time I had a friend. Every time I would meet someone new, they end up forgetting me within the next day. It was like that one time in elementary school, when I went up to a kid who I met the previous day. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, asking who I was. I cried after that because I was so sad.

I start tearing up now, remembering from back then. Wiping my face with the sleeve of my red shirt, dark splotches turn out, creating a new shade of red. I need to do something else.

I go over towards my desk for the cup I placed on it earlier. Bringing it to my mouth, I realize it's empty, only little droplets of the sweet soda left at the bottom. Just like me. Body empty with nothing but a discarded dream of having friends.

I shake my head. I need to stop thinking like that; it just brings my mood down even more. But that second voice never goes away. It's still there, waiting for a chance to berate me down to nothing.

Walking quickly out the door, while shutting it behind me, I drag my body down the hall towards the stairs. I look over the banister, seeing all the people. The table which I helped Al moved earlier has drinks littered on it. From beer to soda and mixes, it's filled with anything you can think of. And people go to it like a dehydrated animal to a watering hole. They can't get enough alcohol, can they?

I go down each step, walking around a couple that decided to snog their faces off in the semi-drunken state that they are in. By the morning, they'll never remember the other's face.

There were empty beer cans on the floor and I kicked them away to clear a path. I started walking a little quicker, just so I can get out of here. Lights were shining and blinking everywhere, circling around the room for those who want dance. Everything was making me dizzy.

There were many faces that I recognized from school, dancing around or outside near the pool. I'm sure most of them were drunk off their ass by now too, no doubt.

I walk towards the kitchen, bare feet making no sound on the marble floor. I plan on taking a liter of soda or juice; I don't really care as long as I get out of here fast. My head was starting to hurt from all the noise. I can't even think right now. Hopefully I'll have a bottle of headache pills stored somewhere in my room, but I can't recall when this is obliterating my thought process.

I grab what I was looking for and try to head out the room. Getting through all the people is hard, with everyone's bodies close together like cement. I try to push through them but it doesn't work. Deciding to work around them, it proves to be a good plan.

I see Al in the living room, dancing with a bunch of people, a red solo cup in hand. I can only shake my head at him. He's going to have a bad hangover in the morning, I can tell. Though I am sure everyone will have a horrible hangover tomorrow if they keep drinking like they are.

The song playing ended and what comes on surprises me. It's "If I Lose Myself". I didn't think these people listened to this type of music. I slowly walk back near the living room-turned-dance floor, staying just to hear the song. I do not mind the volume for this song, nor the people right now. This song is worth it to stay in the room.

I just stand there, relaxing a bit to the song. I didn't even pay attention to who was behind me until they prodded at my shoulder. I jumped a mile a minute then turned around and it was another unexpected thing. It was him, the one in the park earlier. Gilbert.

"Hey! I thought it was you! It's awesome to know I wasn't seeing things! That would be un-awesomely crazy!" He yelled out, though I barely understood what he said over the music. I didn't speak back, instead running as fast as I can with the soda in hand, zigzagging around the party-goers. So much for a nice moment.

I get to the stairs taking two at a time. I see him still following me out of the corner of my eye. It wasn't until I reached my bedroom door that he managed to grab my arm, pulling me back. I stumble over a bit, almost falling into him. There's fear in my eyes, I can't just tell. What if he yells at me for dropping my sketch book on his head earlier?

His eyes are like the color of blood, a very rich shade of red. I looked down, not wanting to stare at them any longer. It would be easy to get caught into them. He looks at me, a smirk on his face. His hand doesn't let go of my arm, knowing that if he did, I would run away.

"Good, the awesome me can talk to you better up here. What were you doing in the tree earlier? The awesome me hasn't seen you around before. Who're you?" He asks me. I don't answer back, turning around abruptly to get lose from his grip. It seems to work as I open my door and shut it, locking it in the process.

I slide down to the floor with my back against the door. I can hear him outside, telling me to come out because he wanted to talk. Well, I didn't so he was just going to have to deal with that. The song was still playing down stairs, just about ending. Gilbert keeps knocking on the door, but gives up, realizing that I'm not coming out.

I sit there for a while longer, taking a few sips of the sugary drink. My mouth was dry and I craved for the liquid. I have a real sweet tooth unfortunately. I get up, trudging over towards my bed, grabbing a sketch book and pencil on the way over. My thoughts are running too fast for me to handle and I need something to relax myself. I don't even know what I'm drawing but I don't care.

My eyes must have closed at some point, because the sun is shining on my face slightly from my window. The pad is opened, sprawled on my bed. It must have slipped off my stomach during the night when I fell asleep. I pick it up, looking at the drawing. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw that I drew Gilbert. I threw it to the ground, as if it would infect me with a deadly disease.

Gilbert, he remembered me from yesterday. How could he remember me? No one ever recalls me, the invisible teen. And why Gilbert is another question. Why would a popular guy like him talk to a friendless loner like? Based on yesterday, it didn't seem like he was going to hurt me. Would he talk to me again? Does he want to be my friend? He's…actually kind of cute, isn't he?

Hold up. I rub my forehead as I sit up on the plush sheets. You really think he's cute? What's wrong with you? You just met the guy, you idiot!

My head fills with unrequited questions, making it hurt. I reach over into a drawer in my desk, searching, and then taking out two different medicine bottles. I unscrew the child-proof caps on both, taking out an antidepressant in one and two ibuprofen in the other. Grabbing the soda bottle that I left on the side of the bed, I twist the cap off, taking a sip and swallowing each pill one at a time.

The antidepressants I have to take every day in the morning. I forget to take them every now and then, and I'm not sure if they really help me, but I swallow them right when I wake up.

After lying on the bed for a couple more minutes, I get up, going to inspect the damage done to the house. I change out of yesterday's clothes, outing on a blue t-shirt and black shorts. It's still pretty warm this week, and I get warm while working so it's the best option to dress lightly.

I pick up the drawing pad on the floor, looking at the picture of Gilbert again. It wasn't half bad, but it's best to forget about it. Clapping the book shut, I toss it on my bed. I accidentally hit Kuma and I say a silent apology, even though I know it won't matter.

I slip on a pair of flip-flops that I keep in my room for times like these, when I don't want to step on the floor after a party thrown by Al.

Stepping out of the room and down the stairwell, I see the gigantic mess. It was worse than when I came down for the brief moment yesterday. I went to go find Al so I can get him up to at least help me clean.

I found him on the couch, curled up around another. I'm pretty sure it was Ivan, the scary Russian teen at school, since I don't know anyone else to wear a scarf in when it is this warm. I shook Al awake, and he rolled over, managing to fall of the couch. "Ow, shit… What the hell happened last night? Hey, who are you?" He said while trying to look at me with squinted eyes.

Explanation time; it's a normal occurrence between me and Al when he doesn't recall who I am. "Well, my name is Matthew and I am your twin brother. You threw a party last night and now you have to help me clean up your mess."

"Oh, hey Mattie. Forgot about you for a minute. Hey, wanna get me some pain-killers? My head feels like I got hit by a freight train." I go into the kitchen into one of the cabinets to get the medicine and a glass for water. Returning back into the living room, I hand it to him, watching him swallow the tablets.

"Thanks. Give me a minute and I'll help you, okay?" I will tell you now that's not going to happen. He'll just fall back asleep, waking up every now and then to throw up in the bathroom. Same as always.

"Yeah, fine." I say while walking away. Time to get to work. First step is to throw out any partiers who passed out in my home. I go outside first, seeing as how that would be the easiest. There were a few people lying about, none I recognized. I picked them up one by one and flung them out into the front yard. I didn't really care what happened to them. They deserved it for drinking so much then passing out in some one's home.

When that was taken care of, I turned on the hose near the house and just washed everything down. There was a bit of vomit in some places, and it made me gag while I washed it away. God, people are ridiculous.

I went back inside to clean the rest of the house. I dragged people out by their shirts onto the front lawn once again. Some who were there previously were gone. They must have woken up and went home. Good riddance.

Al was asleep on the couch once again, just as I expected. Ivan had his arms wrapped around him too, both content in their unconscious state. My brother gets to be loved by everyone and have someone special in his life, but I am alone with nothing to live for. It's because you are nothing. Did you not know that? That stupid voice taunts me. "Shut up" I say quietly. I'm getting sick of the voice. All it does is bring me down into another one of my moods. And I don't need someone else telling me that I'm worthless. I already know that, I don't need it rubbed in my face even more.

I take out a separate bag full of cans and another of garbage into the garage and come back into the kitchen. My frustrations are taken out on scrubbing the floor with a bucket filled with soapy water. The floor was sticky from the drinks spilled from people. You know who I feel like right now? Like Cinderella when she was scrubbing the floors and picking up after her step sisters and mother. I do all the work while my brother gets to live a carefree life. But I won't have a fairytale ending like her, where a prince sweeps her off her feet.

I scrub the floors at a quick pace, not slowing down as my anger fuels my speed. I move into the entrance way, cleaning the floors in there as well. Once that is done, I get out the vacuum to finish purging the living room and other places. Al had to get up and leave into his room because the noise was bothering him. Ivan left not long ago too. I don't care if I am bothering my brother. He bothered me with the whole party and troubled me with the task of cleaning up his mess.

I check the clock in the kitchen and it reads 4:34. I've been working that long? I guess when you work, time flies by fast.

As far as I know, the upstairs should be cleaned. Usually no one goes up there during a party. There was one time though I found a two people passed out in one of the bedrooms, clothes half off. That was not a pleasant sight, let me tell you.

Thanks to thinking of that, I made the better judgment of checking all the rooms besides mine. I went from room to room, checking each one. Thankfully no one was hidden in any of the rooms. I didn't really want a repeat of the last incident.

The thought of going outside sounded like a great idea right now. I was sick of smelling the cleaners and disinfectants all day. And the sunset always looks the best this time of year.

I grab my sketch book and IPod for the second day in a row just to head out to the park. Maybe I could re-draw the scene from yesterday, seeing as how the trees shouldn't really have changed much in a day.

As I'm walking, my mind goes elsewhere, thinking back to Gilbert. I just can't seem to forget about him. He was the first person to remember me in a long while. In fact, he came up to me yesterday.

My heart soars at the thought. Finally, I'm not forgotten by someone!

But, he was drinking yesterday. I could smell it on his breath when he spoke. He probably remembered me in a drunken state. He did say that he thought he was seeing things when we were at the park. So what if when he woke up, he would just think that I was probably just a figment of his imagination?

Happy level equals 0. Hopes equal 0. Friends equal 0.

I feel like one of those "forever alone" things.

It's best to forget though, and move on. But…I'm not sure if I can. You just can't forget someone like Gilbert. How can you with how he looks? I mean really, who else in this town is albino? Then based on how he talked, you could tell how he was so sure of himself.

And he's really handsome, like…perfect. His red eyes and that smile of his…

God, please stop tormenting me with these thoughts. I really don't want to get my hopes up. It will just make me even lonelier than how I feel now.

This chapter is longer than the last one by most likely 1,000 words. I checked things over as best I could as well.

Now, I have an idea. I was thinking of having the next chapter in Gilbert's point-of-view, going back to the time of the first chapter. I feel like that may show his feelings of the situation as well. Plus, he just needs more "show-time" so to speak. And you may want to know what was going on in Gilbert's head at the time, I'm sure.

Oh, and the setting of this story is actually a real place in New York. Frankly, it's where I live, and my feelings are the same as Matthew's. I just feel like I should tell you that! Also, the song "If I Lose Myself" will constantly be in the story (that's why it's the title for this fanfiction). Other songs may be mentioned throughout so that different feelings can be reflected as well. I find it easy to do that, and it adds more feelings in the story.

And thank you to all the wonderful people following the story so far and those who have faved it! I am really happy about that! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter (it was a tough one to write, let me tell you). Thanks again!