A/N: Read and enjoy! All I can really say :D

Broken Wings: Deadgirl (Part 11) JT

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He drove home to find that the front of his house was wrapped up in yellow police tape and several unread newspapers still wrapped up in plastic spread around in the long grass. JT dreaded the feeling he felt currently consuming him. His grandmother was all he had left and if she'd passed he didn't know if hanging on to nothing anymore was worth all of this.

His hands on the wheel grew clammy and a man in uniform walked up to him. The officer tapped on the window, surprising JT who slowly cranked it down. "Sir do you happen to know who lives here?" the officer pointed behind his shoulder at JT's house. What was he supposed to do now, what he was constantly fretting was coming true. JT swallowed, eyes watering and thoughts racing. He was lost for words and all he could do was give the officer a terrible smile with a 'no sir' and drove off. Damnit it was true, she was dead. He was gone too long and never for a second had he forgotten about her, but he was too ignorant and retarded to even care.

JT cried for about 10 minutes straight parked outside one of the old abandoned gas stations on the outskirts of town. He'd lost everything he ever loved and cared about and now that he had time to think living didn't feel like much of a good thing after all.

There were several times JT thought about death and suicide, but never really did any damage to himself, besides swallowing a few pills that he'd stolen from his father when he was sixteen. He wanted to crawl up in a tight ball and waste away to nothing.

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Rickie walked the streets in his neighborhood; after that dream Rickie wasn't too pleased with the idea of walking to far from home.

He thought of Joann and JT for hours on end. He would think about Joann in silk panties sprawling her little body all over him, touching him inappropriately, and JT the way he was before; that was the past though.

JT wiped the last of his tears away and leaned forward to retrieve his cell from his back jeans pocket. His hands were shaking almost uncontrollably as he started to dial his number. He couldn't believe he was doing this but Rickie was the only thing he couldn't stop thinking about.

After a few rings, the phone went silent. JT's heart pounded hard and heavy that he knew any moment he would pass away from a silent heart attack.

He breathed in once and held it all in. He was scared, desperate and alone. All he had was his cell, a familiar bottle of aspirin and Rickie's switchblade he'd planned on giving to Rickie for his 18th birthday. Tears clouded his eyes as he looked down at the bottle of aspirin. He cried again, only silent cries.

He felt her soft manicured fingertips run delicately down his side, over his ribs and stopped right at his adolescent hips. She told him she loved him so much, more than anyone in the world. He smiled up at his beautiful mother, her dark brunette hair falling gracefully down passed her shoulders brushing against his cheeks. He snickered and batted his baby blue eyes gently returning the soft touch.

JT opened the bottle and shook out 13 single aspirin. He thought a few things over but it only made him angry so he downed the pills that were piled together in the palm of his hand. He cried again and after he had them all down his throat, in his stomach acids he waited for them to kick in.

He buried his head into the damaged cushion of the passenger's seat and let his legs cramp against the driver's door, his knees up to his chest.

He missed Rickie, he missed being the most thought about person in his life, missed seeing him smile, cry, laugh, yell and even argue. All the arguments they've had in their lives were all worth it. Without those they wouldn't have made it this far in their relationship.

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Rickie looked down at his phone; missed call. He looked to see who it was and he froze in the front yard. It was 12:45 in the afternoon and summer time was ending way too fast, he felt so saddend by that thought.

He looked at JT's name a few times over before hitting his number, put the phone up to his ear, listening for his voice. No one answered after four rings and he tried again. Four rings after again and no response. Rickie began to fret and worry more than he should. He put his phone back in his pocket and ran like hell.

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His father came in through the kitchen door with a smug look on his drunk face. JT sat next to his mother, Ashlyn who looked too busy reading her new sappy romance novel, JT leaned back in his chair with a fresh cigarette hanging from his lips. "Damnit Ashlyn, he's only 13 and you're letting him smoke, I bet he drinks just as much too, huh?" the grizzly bear of a man stormed out in front of JT and smacked his feet off the table and broke that cig from his lips. JT looked as pissed off as his fat ass hairy father, possibly even more and his mother could tell just by touching his arm that he was angry. He was trembling in fear and anger.

"You don't give a shit about us you fuck face, she needs me, not you so FUCK YOU!" JT stood up and gave his own bastard father a taste of his own medicine, watching him scramble over in his drunk state.

JT hadn't moved a muscle since taking those aspirin. He couldn't feel, he couldn't see, he couldn't smell and he couldn't breathe. If this was his final day on earth one thing he would regret doing would be telling Rickie for the hundredth fucking time he was sorry and kiss the hell out of him, telling him he loved him.

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