(A lil' info…on the first chapter, Double D is getting ready for the LAST day of his sophomore year, not the first. Sorry.)
Ed didn't dare tell anyone about the conversation he had with Jimmy. No way. His friends might be just a little weirded out, and he didn't want to throw Jimmy out of the closet. After a day or two, he started to think he shouldn't have been so hard on Jimmy. He was just surprised, was all, and he was starting to consider apologizing to Jimmy. By then, it had been too late. But he didn't know it, nobody knew it.
Sara and Jimmy had been best friends since day 1, when Sara and Ed moved into town. His femininity had been simply disregarded as sensitivity, and Jimmy relied on Sara to be his guide to the female world. She taught him to plant flowers, raise children (dolls), and bake. When he had learned, perhaps even mastered, these subjects, he didn't budge. He would be friends with Sara until the day he died, which happened to be the case.
The wild redhead would walk the sidewalk down to her best friend's house. When she got there, she looked at his garden growing in the front yard and noted they were growing astonishingly well. She knocked. No response. She knocked again, and again, still Jimmy didn't answer. He's just being lazy.
She said to herself, and walked in. The door was unlocked, odd, Jimmy always locked the door, for fear of being robbed. She walked upstairs to his room, which was eerily quiet, as was the entire house. Nothing. She walked across the hall to his parents' room.
There, on the bed, was Jimmy, alone in the dark. She smiled and spoke.
"Hey Jimmy, wanna come out and play? The band needs our drummer, y'know…"
No response.
She looked at him. His eyes were dark and baggy, his hair wild and uncombed. But there, in his arms, something she didn't notice before.
He was cradling a butcher knife.
She backed away in horror. He stood up, eerily calm, the butcher knife firmly in his grip. He walked into her, handed her a note, and smiled.
"Give this to them. I'm sorry."
He continued to the bathroom between his room and his parents', still calm.
She noticed his wrists and arms were zigzagged with slashes, blood dripping down his arms. Sara was speechless, she wanted to stop him, but the words wouldn't come out. He closed the door, and she simply stood there, lower lip trembling. She turned to go down the stairs, but before she could, she heard a blood curdling scream.
Rapidly, she ran into the bathroom, and what she saw horrified her soul, polluted her mind.
Jimmy sat on the toilet with the seat down, his head bent upward. His entire throat was slashed to pieces, blood dripped down the side of the toilet. On his face, a smile. A smile. He was finally at peace, and she knew it. But she didn't know what about.
It was something she would never forget.
Ed didn't dare tell anyone about the conversation he had with Jimmy. No way. His friends might be just a little weirded out, and he didn't want to throw Jimmy out of the closet. After a day or two, he started to think he shouldn't have been so hard on Jimmy. He was just surprised, was all, and he was starting to consider apologizing to Jimmy. By then, it had been too late. But he didn't know it, nobody knew it.
Sara and Jimmy had been best friends since day 1, when Sara and Ed moved into town. His femininity had been simply disregarded as sensitivity, and Jimmy relied on Sara to be his guide to the female world. She taught him to plant flowers, raise children (dolls), and bake. When he had learned, perhaps even mastered, these subjects, he didn't budge. He would be friends with Sara until the day he died, which happened to be the case.
The wild redhead would walk the sidewalk down to her best friend's house. When she got there, she looked at his garden growing in the front yard and noted they were growing astonishingly well. She knocked. No response. She knocked again, and again, still Jimmy didn't answer. He's just being lazy.
She said to herself, and walked in. The door was unlocked, odd, Jimmy always locked the door, for fear of being robbed. She walked upstairs to his room, which was eerily quiet, as was the entire house. Nothing. She walked across the hall to his parents' room.
There, on the bed, was Jimmy, alone in the dark. She smiled and spoke.
"Hey Jimmy, wanna come out and play? The band needs our drummer, y'know…"
No response.
She looked at him. His eyes were dark and baggy, his hair wild and uncombed. But there, in his arms, something she didn't notice before.
He was cradling a butcher knife.
She backed away in horror. He stood up, eerily calm, the butcher knife firmly in his grip. He walked into her, handed her a note, and smiled.
"Give this to them. I'm sorry."
He continued to the bathroom between his room and his parents', still calm.
She noticed his wrists and arms were zigzagged with slashes, blood dripping down his arms. Sara was speechless, she wanted to stop him, but the words wouldn't come out. He closed the door, and she simply stood there, lower lip trembling. She turned to go down the stairs, but before she could, she heard a blood curdling scream.
Rapidly, she ran into the bathroom, and what she saw horrified her soul, polluted her mind.
Jimmy sat on the toilet with the seat down, his head bent upward. His entire throat was slashed to pieces, blood dripped down the side of the toilet. On his face, a smile. A smile. He was finally at peace, and she knew it. But she didn't know what about.
It was something she would never forget.