Chapter 2 – New feelings.
I am sixteen and a half years old… I'm half way there.
I've just started senior year… I have a beautiful girlfriend who I've known for the whole of my life. This should be the happiest time I've had in all my fucking life.
But the white noise remained.
It burnt through me like a flame, it made me feel uneasy, unloved. Unbelievable. My dreams changed drastically. No more sunny days, no more world saving.
But suicide…
Suicide. Whisper it, go on. People think of it as an ugly reality, but at such a young age I could see the beauty in it. I guess for some people, suicide is a virus; a sick joke with a punch line. It's hard to find people with the balls to actually do it. I dreamt of those people and how they felt, it was just like a happy ending.
A new word entered the house like the plague. My dad sat me down on my own whilst my mother was out for some unknown reason. The white noise took over as he talked. "Blah blah blah DIVORCE blah blah DIVORCE blah blah blah DIVORCE", his hands were vigorously caressing his legs as he spoke. He lent his head down, trying to hide the tears that spilt from his eyes. With all this laid out in front of me, even I could understand:
She'd be back. He'd be leaving.
Sometimes it's hard to understand sitches like this… but inside my blonde head, it made its own kind of sense;
Mother hates Father, Father hates Mother. Ron hates Father, Father hates Mother. It was all a game, and they invited me along for the ride. It didn't take long to acquire a taste for anger. And with anger came blood, as the rage dripped from my wrists onto the carpet.
I searched for reassurance from Kim, my love, my life. She took me in her arms, wiped my wrists and then my eyes, kissed my forehead.
"Don't worry, Ron, you're gonna be fine. I'll take care of you"
They always said she could do anything…
But the voices in my head said otherwise.
"So how was therapy?" Kim questioned whilst sitting on my bed.
"It was cool" I picked up Rufus from the table and stroked him. "It's like there… they can understand what I'm saying."
"That's great". Kim beckoned me onto the bed. "Hey, I spoke to your dad while you were gone; he's trying to get hold of you. He left a couple of messages on the machine."
"You erased them right?"
Imagine the nerve for my father to make peace with me after what he's put me through. The one who gave me my name… the so called "Mr. Stoppable". I dreamt at school that he would suffer for what he had done. It sickened me. I continued to dream whilst I inhaled more of my medicine. I started to calm… but the voices didn't.
Each day at school made my stomach hate me a little more. I could feel the nausea rising up from my toxic waist, shouting at me. Screaming at me.
Telling me I can't go on. Allowing the white noise to tear apart what was left of my brain. I could tell Kim was worried. Every time I walked the halls of this horrible building I could see her with Monique, tears streaming down her face.
"What the fuck is wrong with her?" I'd ask myself. "I'm the one with the problems".
I started seeing a doctor for my stomach issues. He said it was some kind of problem with my diet, and we needed to discuss it. There was no way in hell that I would stop eating at Bueno Nacho. I don't give a fuck what this quack thinks… I'll eat what I want. I just turned to him.
"Mother fucker!", storming out of the room I imagined the look on his face, and the reaction I would get if I had chosen to stay. I felt I did the right thing coming to Kim once again.
"I've said this before, but now it's worse. I'm losing everything, Kim."
"Ron, you gotta get a grip. You're really scaring me… I love you"
Kim Possible, the feisty teenage heroine. She wasn't my lover, she was my heroine. And we all need a heroine.
The needle breathes warm and happy thoughts into my arm, thoughts that burns into a flower throughout my body. Everything around me becomes hot, and rich. I think I can smell bonfires. All this happened while I dreamt of Kim. My heroine. She takes away all the pain I have ever known. She silences the screams in my stomach and leaves them in my head where they belong.
The end of my senior year was upon me, and me and Kim were planning on getting an apartment together. Just me, Rufus, her and the voices in my head. It was this moment I realised that maybe she really can do anything.
Maybe she is all that.
As we said our goodbyes to the school that change our lives, the school that made me what I am: a fucked up kid with voices in his head, we moved on to our next destination.
Good riddance.
