3. Fifteen
Gantu did the normal procedure of waking up, which was falling out of bed and hitting his head on the guitar amp nearby, and he remained in that position for approximately thirty seconds before the guitar itself fell on his head. Then, he would fully awaken. The alien jumped up when the guitar hit him, and then sat there for a while, throwing the covers over his face. Something told him that there was something about today he should be aware of. He knew that it was a Wednesday. And it was a month called 'Carn.' And the day was the eleventh. Oh, no.
Gantu groaned, remembering what that feeling was telling him. Today was his birthday. The day of hell. Gantu didn't want to emerge from his nest of covers, knowing that just about this time of the year always ended up being the worst, because his friends would still be all 'birthday giddy' around him, although they were completely aware of the fact he hated his birthday. After much time, he finally decided to get up, and he glanced at the clock. It was only six thirty.
He sighed. It seemed to late. But still, he bet that Valec, who was always up at the crack of dawn, would call him eventually. When would they understand that this was the worst day known to him?! It was the day he was born, and basically the day when he would be tortured daily for everyday of his life. Gantu pulled down the radio and turned it on light enough so that it wouldn't awaken Venes. It was nothing but talk shows, but he kept it on anyway as he tried to estimate what will happen during the day.
First there was going to be a much louder than normal knock on the door, and then Juska will come running in first without anyone answering the door and then soon the other three would follow. She would jump on his bed until he at least look at her, and then the others will drag him out, and then proceed to pull him around all over town doing a bunch of random things, like annoying the people working at cashiers at multiple stores. Like he said, they were very unaware how unhappy he was about his life. And how could they be so oblivious when he unintentionally acts all depressed around them. He tried to be all happy like them, but it was harder than it looks when most of your life you've been so serious because of your mother leaving you, your father blaming that on you a beating all life out of you on a weekly basis during the school years. He'd be better off dead than to continue going through with this.
Gantu paused, and thought that over: He'd be better off dead than to continue going through with this. The alien seemed to consider something but caught himself. Suicide just wasn't the way out of everything. After all, there had to be some person out there that would rather see him alive than in a casket or as a bunch of ashes. To try to get out of the mood, he found a good station and tried listening, but he couldn't stop thinking about dying. It was better than nothing. There was practically a voice inside his head, convincing him suicide was the way. He listened to it, the radio distant. 'Admit it, you thought about killing yourself tons of times. One time you even wrote "the note" before being a good little boy and tearing it up. You hate this world. No, don't be a pansy by running away. After all, suicide is the biggest way to insult someone. It's the biggest way to insult your father. Venes deserves it, and so do you.'
He shook that annoying little voice out of his head. Speaking of Venes, where was he? Gantu flipped the radio off and got to his feet, going out into the hall. It was darker than he thought in the hallway, and he noticed that the door to Venes and his room was wide open. He was nowhere in sight. That wasn't normal. But then again, Gantu realized that this happened during every time of this forsaken day. On Gantu's birthday, his dad always 'mysteriously disappeared' to arrive late at night, drunk out of his mind. There, he would proceed to beat up Gantu.
Gantu didn't care, either. He liked it when his dad was gone for so long. Gantu walked down the stairs, probably to attempt to enjoy what was left of the time before and watch TV or something. He walked into the living room. Suddenly, the TV didn't look so great, just sitting there in the dark. Instead, Gantu wandered around the house and entered the kitchen. Not hungry, he was very bored so just decided to go through all the cabinets and try to discover something to prove his dad might be on drugs. With no luck, Gantu was on his final drawer and opened it. No curious looking powders or plants were inside, but a bunch of stuff needed for cooking.
He pulled out a knife. Gantu loved this one, but didn't know why. Instead of being big, the knife was small and the point barely curved. Who knew what it was for. He seemed suddenly aware of a small sting on his palm and he looked to see that he had accidentally cut himself while rummaging through. A very small drop of blood came from it, and then the thing he wanted last came to his mind. That stupid voice was back. 'Now's your chance. Before your friends come and torture you throughout the day, and before your dad comes. There's no one to stop you. Do it! Please?'
Gantu ran his finger over the blade lightly. The voice continued, 'It won't hurt. It'll feel good, just like that time in fifth grade during the field trip. Admit it, you liked that feeling. Hurry before someone comes. It's your only chance, and since it's your birthday it's like the present you've always wanted.'
Gantu seemed to realize that made sense. It was the perfect present to himself. Finally, everything could end, and this might be the only chance, before his friends come knocking. He stopped running his finger on the point but held it by the handle. He slightly smiled. He wasn't so afraid now like that time in sixth grade when he thought there was nothing to live for. And he should have done it then, before two years later he would turn out to be like this!
There was a long silence. He suddenly became aware that there was blood on the knife, and he dropped it in surprise. The pain on his wrists finally seemed to come, and Gantu immediately bit down on his lips. His famous snaggle-fang cut into his upper lip, and that trickle of blood seemed like a raindrop compared to what was gushing from both his wrists. He regained posture somehow, and just watched the blood almost in amazement. It didn't hurt, actually. It just felt like water was dripping off of him. And then he was aware that his legs were beginning to give away. Gantu didn't try to stop himself from falling in his own pool of blood, which was rapidly growing. Lying there, his small smile faded very quickly.
There was a bang on the door, and then he heard it open. Gantu closed his eyes, as if not wanting to see who would walk in. He recognized the bouncy footsteps, and finally heard a voice say, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! What're you doing on the - OH, GOD!"
Gantu reopened his eyes that were slowly clouding over. "Go away."
"GANTU!" Juska screamed. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? BRIAN! CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
The gothic, cat-like alien seemed very calm until he walked inside and got a glimpse of what she was being so hysterical about. He leaped out, obviously off to find the phone. Juska could hear the questioning voices of Valec and Avon before they were silenced and pushed out of the house. Gantu found that reassuring, knowing that he wasn't like a freak show for multiple people to watch in amusement. He merely watched and Juska started walking forward, her dragon-looking feet walking through his own blood while saying something. Everything faded to black.
-
"He didn't loose enough blood for it to be fatal, but it will be hard finding donated blood from his race to give to him."
"How did this happen?"
"Suicide attempt, we think. We'll have to wait for him to wake up before we can definitely figure that out."
"Did you already order the blood?"
"It will be here in one hour. It's a good thing we had some, you know how hard to find his race is."
"Right. It's sad what the youth is resorting to."
"I know, right? Do you want anything from the vending machine? I'm getting something."
"Sure. I don't care what."
Gantu could hear voices, but could see nothing but black. After much time, he seemed to finally realize that this was because his eyes were closed. An attempt to open them only gave him about a five second view of a room. Where was he? When he had opened them, there were dark shades of gray all around him. Slowly going over the events of what he could last remember, he finally determined he was in a hospital. It means he didn't die.
Gantu was glad but also sad knowing this. He knew he should be happy, and finally realized he was. Suicide was the most idiotic thing he had ever done. And then he fell asleep again when the voices started talking again. Thank the heavens it wasn't the one persuading him to kill himself.
-
"Are you feeling alright, son?"
Gantu was barely awake when he heard that. Why was his dad asking him that? He opened his eyes, and it wasn't Venes looking at him, but a doctor. He wore those mint-colored hospital surgical outfits and was a race Gantu never say. The doctor was solid white, and had all black eyes. He looked like a weasel.
"Yeah," Gantu mumbled. His throat hurt for some reason and his voice was very raspy.
"That's good. Your blood supply is back to normal. What's your name?" The doctor questioned him.
Gantu looked at the doctor. He was holding a clipboard that had just about all information about him. Gantu knew the doctor very well knew his name, but told him anyway in his painful and raspy voice.
"Gantu? And how old are you?"
Now Gantu was getting tired of this and growled. "Look at the paper. It's not very hard."
The doctor at first seemed surprise, and smiled for some reason and left. Now Gantu looked at his surroundings. The hospital rooms weren't the clean, all white and perfect rooms you see on TV. Instead, they were pretty dark, and there weren't a bunch of doctors babying him like you see on TV, also. They instead left him, and Gantu was glad that they did. He never liked doctors, or any kind.
He looked at his wrists for the first time since arriving at the hospital, and they were covered by white bandages that seemed bigger than necessary. Where he had cut himself dully throbbed. He could tell they were still, and lightly bleeding. A few moments later another person entered the room. This was a woman, and she was of the same race as Violet. Her skin was a darker shade of vanilla though. Gantu just eyed her suspiciously.
"Hello, Gantu." She pulled up a chair from one side of the room. "Are you feeling better?"
She seemed nice. Gantu nodded.
She smiled in response. "My name is Dr. Wagner. I'm a psychotherapist. Do you know why I'm here?"
Gantu sighed. Yes, he knew what she was here for. "To tell me that suicide isn't healthy."
She laughed, and he didn't see what was so funny. Dr. Wagner went on, "Of course it isn't healthy. It kills you. Now, I'm to believe you live with your father?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"We haven't been able to locate him yet, but we're on it. You're ready for visitors, and there have been four teenagers wanted to see you ever since you arrived here, a week ago," she informed him.
"A week?" Gantu questioned. "But I've only been awake three times since I came here."
"That's what you get for suicide," she answered in a much more serious tone. "Now, before I leave, I have to ask you some questions. As you were here, the doctors also discovered many bruises and injuries on your torso and back, and along with what was a once broken rib that seemed to heal on its own and several other bruised ribs. Can I ask you questions about that?"
"Yeah," he nervously answered.
Gantu ended up lying at every question. If his abuse was discovered, he'd be taken away from where he once lived and his friends. Dr. Wagner left, and he laid in bed for a long time before once again falling asleep.
TBC
I actually didn't like this chapter too much, because there wasn't enough conversation in the first two pages. DAMMIT! Oh, yes. I must say like every good author would that suicide is bad. Yes.
Gantu did the normal procedure of waking up, which was falling out of bed and hitting his head on the guitar amp nearby, and he remained in that position for approximately thirty seconds before the guitar itself fell on his head. Then, he would fully awaken. The alien jumped up when the guitar hit him, and then sat there for a while, throwing the covers over his face. Something told him that there was something about today he should be aware of. He knew that it was a Wednesday. And it was a month called 'Carn.' And the day was the eleventh. Oh, no.
Gantu groaned, remembering what that feeling was telling him. Today was his birthday. The day of hell. Gantu didn't want to emerge from his nest of covers, knowing that just about this time of the year always ended up being the worst, because his friends would still be all 'birthday giddy' around him, although they were completely aware of the fact he hated his birthday. After much time, he finally decided to get up, and he glanced at the clock. It was only six thirty.
He sighed. It seemed to late. But still, he bet that Valec, who was always up at the crack of dawn, would call him eventually. When would they understand that this was the worst day known to him?! It was the day he was born, and basically the day when he would be tortured daily for everyday of his life. Gantu pulled down the radio and turned it on light enough so that it wouldn't awaken Venes. It was nothing but talk shows, but he kept it on anyway as he tried to estimate what will happen during the day.
First there was going to be a much louder than normal knock on the door, and then Juska will come running in first without anyone answering the door and then soon the other three would follow. She would jump on his bed until he at least look at her, and then the others will drag him out, and then proceed to pull him around all over town doing a bunch of random things, like annoying the people working at cashiers at multiple stores. Like he said, they were very unaware how unhappy he was about his life. And how could they be so oblivious when he unintentionally acts all depressed around them. He tried to be all happy like them, but it was harder than it looks when most of your life you've been so serious because of your mother leaving you, your father blaming that on you a beating all life out of you on a weekly basis during the school years. He'd be better off dead than to continue going through with this.
Gantu paused, and thought that over: He'd be better off dead than to continue going through with this. The alien seemed to consider something but caught himself. Suicide just wasn't the way out of everything. After all, there had to be some person out there that would rather see him alive than in a casket or as a bunch of ashes. To try to get out of the mood, he found a good station and tried listening, but he couldn't stop thinking about dying. It was better than nothing. There was practically a voice inside his head, convincing him suicide was the way. He listened to it, the radio distant. 'Admit it, you thought about killing yourself tons of times. One time you even wrote "the note" before being a good little boy and tearing it up. You hate this world. No, don't be a pansy by running away. After all, suicide is the biggest way to insult someone. It's the biggest way to insult your father. Venes deserves it, and so do you.'
He shook that annoying little voice out of his head. Speaking of Venes, where was he? Gantu flipped the radio off and got to his feet, going out into the hall. It was darker than he thought in the hallway, and he noticed that the door to Venes and his room was wide open. He was nowhere in sight. That wasn't normal. But then again, Gantu realized that this happened during every time of this forsaken day. On Gantu's birthday, his dad always 'mysteriously disappeared' to arrive late at night, drunk out of his mind. There, he would proceed to beat up Gantu.
Gantu didn't care, either. He liked it when his dad was gone for so long. Gantu walked down the stairs, probably to attempt to enjoy what was left of the time before and watch TV or something. He walked into the living room. Suddenly, the TV didn't look so great, just sitting there in the dark. Instead, Gantu wandered around the house and entered the kitchen. Not hungry, he was very bored so just decided to go through all the cabinets and try to discover something to prove his dad might be on drugs. With no luck, Gantu was on his final drawer and opened it. No curious looking powders or plants were inside, but a bunch of stuff needed for cooking.
He pulled out a knife. Gantu loved this one, but didn't know why. Instead of being big, the knife was small and the point barely curved. Who knew what it was for. He seemed suddenly aware of a small sting on his palm and he looked to see that he had accidentally cut himself while rummaging through. A very small drop of blood came from it, and then the thing he wanted last came to his mind. That stupid voice was back. 'Now's your chance. Before your friends come and torture you throughout the day, and before your dad comes. There's no one to stop you. Do it! Please?'
Gantu ran his finger over the blade lightly. The voice continued, 'It won't hurt. It'll feel good, just like that time in fifth grade during the field trip. Admit it, you liked that feeling. Hurry before someone comes. It's your only chance, and since it's your birthday it's like the present you've always wanted.'
Gantu seemed to realize that made sense. It was the perfect present to himself. Finally, everything could end, and this might be the only chance, before his friends come knocking. He stopped running his finger on the point but held it by the handle. He slightly smiled. He wasn't so afraid now like that time in sixth grade when he thought there was nothing to live for. And he should have done it then, before two years later he would turn out to be like this!
There was a long silence. He suddenly became aware that there was blood on the knife, and he dropped it in surprise. The pain on his wrists finally seemed to come, and Gantu immediately bit down on his lips. His famous snaggle-fang cut into his upper lip, and that trickle of blood seemed like a raindrop compared to what was gushing from both his wrists. He regained posture somehow, and just watched the blood almost in amazement. It didn't hurt, actually. It just felt like water was dripping off of him. And then he was aware that his legs were beginning to give away. Gantu didn't try to stop himself from falling in his own pool of blood, which was rapidly growing. Lying there, his small smile faded very quickly.
There was a bang on the door, and then he heard it open. Gantu closed his eyes, as if not wanting to see who would walk in. He recognized the bouncy footsteps, and finally heard a voice say, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! What're you doing on the - OH, GOD!"
Gantu reopened his eyes that were slowly clouding over. "Go away."
"GANTU!" Juska screamed. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? BRIAN! CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
The gothic, cat-like alien seemed very calm until he walked inside and got a glimpse of what she was being so hysterical about. He leaped out, obviously off to find the phone. Juska could hear the questioning voices of Valec and Avon before they were silenced and pushed out of the house. Gantu found that reassuring, knowing that he wasn't like a freak show for multiple people to watch in amusement. He merely watched and Juska started walking forward, her dragon-looking feet walking through his own blood while saying something. Everything faded to black.
-
"He didn't loose enough blood for it to be fatal, but it will be hard finding donated blood from his race to give to him."
"How did this happen?"
"Suicide attempt, we think. We'll have to wait for him to wake up before we can definitely figure that out."
"Did you already order the blood?"
"It will be here in one hour. It's a good thing we had some, you know how hard to find his race is."
"Right. It's sad what the youth is resorting to."
"I know, right? Do you want anything from the vending machine? I'm getting something."
"Sure. I don't care what."
Gantu could hear voices, but could see nothing but black. After much time, he seemed to finally realize that this was because his eyes were closed. An attempt to open them only gave him about a five second view of a room. Where was he? When he had opened them, there were dark shades of gray all around him. Slowly going over the events of what he could last remember, he finally determined he was in a hospital. It means he didn't die.
Gantu was glad but also sad knowing this. He knew he should be happy, and finally realized he was. Suicide was the most idiotic thing he had ever done. And then he fell asleep again when the voices started talking again. Thank the heavens it wasn't the one persuading him to kill himself.
-
"Are you feeling alright, son?"
Gantu was barely awake when he heard that. Why was his dad asking him that? He opened his eyes, and it wasn't Venes looking at him, but a doctor. He wore those mint-colored hospital surgical outfits and was a race Gantu never say. The doctor was solid white, and had all black eyes. He looked like a weasel.
"Yeah," Gantu mumbled. His throat hurt for some reason and his voice was very raspy.
"That's good. Your blood supply is back to normal. What's your name?" The doctor questioned him.
Gantu looked at the doctor. He was holding a clipboard that had just about all information about him. Gantu knew the doctor very well knew his name, but told him anyway in his painful and raspy voice.
"Gantu? And how old are you?"
Now Gantu was getting tired of this and growled. "Look at the paper. It's not very hard."
The doctor at first seemed surprise, and smiled for some reason and left. Now Gantu looked at his surroundings. The hospital rooms weren't the clean, all white and perfect rooms you see on TV. Instead, they were pretty dark, and there weren't a bunch of doctors babying him like you see on TV, also. They instead left him, and Gantu was glad that they did. He never liked doctors, or any kind.
He looked at his wrists for the first time since arriving at the hospital, and they were covered by white bandages that seemed bigger than necessary. Where he had cut himself dully throbbed. He could tell they were still, and lightly bleeding. A few moments later another person entered the room. This was a woman, and she was of the same race as Violet. Her skin was a darker shade of vanilla though. Gantu just eyed her suspiciously.
"Hello, Gantu." She pulled up a chair from one side of the room. "Are you feeling better?"
She seemed nice. Gantu nodded.
She smiled in response. "My name is Dr. Wagner. I'm a psychotherapist. Do you know why I'm here?"
Gantu sighed. Yes, he knew what she was here for. "To tell me that suicide isn't healthy."
She laughed, and he didn't see what was so funny. Dr. Wagner went on, "Of course it isn't healthy. It kills you. Now, I'm to believe you live with your father?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"We haven't been able to locate him yet, but we're on it. You're ready for visitors, and there have been four teenagers wanted to see you ever since you arrived here, a week ago," she informed him.
"A week?" Gantu questioned. "But I've only been awake three times since I came here."
"That's what you get for suicide," she answered in a much more serious tone. "Now, before I leave, I have to ask you some questions. As you were here, the doctors also discovered many bruises and injuries on your torso and back, and along with what was a once broken rib that seemed to heal on its own and several other bruised ribs. Can I ask you questions about that?"
"Yeah," he nervously answered.
Gantu ended up lying at every question. If his abuse was discovered, he'd be taken away from where he once lived and his friends. Dr. Wagner left, and he laid in bed for a long time before once again falling asleep.
TBC
I actually didn't like this chapter too much, because there wasn't enough conversation in the first two pages. DAMMIT! Oh, yes. I must say like every good author would that suicide is bad. Yes.
