When I'm Gone
I listen to my father yelling at me, but he can't hurt me right now. Not when I'm in my safe haven of the adjoining bathroom in my room. I distinctly catch a couple words he's yelling at me. "You little fag; you're a disgrace to this family." With those last words, my father left, slamming the front door.
I take out the stained metal blade, its touch cold against my skin. I begin to dig it into my arm, where no one would see it. I was a failure in life, my father was right. I am just a fag, a stain on the Smythes' prestine family tree. I know that I'm a disappointment to my father and mother if she was alive. I start to cry, my tears fall onto my new cuts. I hiss at the pain of my salty tears when they touch my open wounds, this isn't the pain I liked, the pain I liked was when I was digging a blade into myself and watching the blood as it began to emerge from my body. The pain feels good but I clean up and put band aides on the cuts. I have to get to Warbler rehearsal, though I don't see the point, it's just a stupid competition.
I get into my car and start the engine. I begin to pull out of my driveway when a thought deemed to me, I could make everything go away. I could end it all. I wouldn't have to listen to my father telling me that I'm a dirty little fag. I realize that I passed Dalton, so I make a U-turn. I would give myself two weeks to ready everything. In two weeks I would kill myself. In two weeks I'll see my mother again. She won't be mad, she'll have me again.
When I walked in, I could see that the meeting had been called to order. I look for an empty seat but see that every chair had been filled. I stood by the door, leaning against the cold mahogany wall.
"Warbler Sebastian, what is your reason for being tardy?" I had actually thought I would have been able to get away with it but no Wes had to be so damn observant.
"I forgot to come, seeing that these meetings are a complete waste of my time." I sneered, though I know that the meetings are one of the fun things that I have left in my life.
"I'll let it slide, since you are the lead singer." Wes said with a bemused face on. I always get away with everything. The other Warblers start to snicker, some whispering to another. I know that they are talking to me, but I don't care.
I walk out of Warbler practice feeling even worse about myself. Nick and Jeff were cuddling for most of it, David and Wes were texting their girlfriends, and I just stood there utterly disgusted at all the love that was in a single room.
I go to the Lima Bean, hoping that Blaine and Kurt were there, but they weren't. So I order myself some black coffee and claim a table. I try to focus on doing my homework but other things were plaguing my mind.
How would I do it? Hang myself? Pills? Maybe I should over cut. That's it, I'll just over cut. It feels good when I cut. What am I going to do with all of my things? I won't allow letting all of my things be given to my father. Maybe I would give everything I own to charity.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice that Kurt had slid into the chair across from me.
"Are you okay?" He asks looking at me with concern.
"Why do you care, Gay Face? Shouldn't you be with your sex on a stick boyfriend?" I snap back at him. I take a sip of coffee and realize that it's still hot.
"Well, you've been staring into space for the past twenty minutes. I just wanted to know if you were okay." Kurt said, standing up and gathering his things.
"I'm sorry." I don't know why I said that. I didn't want him to leave I guess. If I die, I wanted to make everything right, especially with Kurt and Blaine. I really fucked up their lives.
Kurt stared at me as though I told him that the world was going to end. He nearly dropped his coffee. I must be a horrible person if this is how people react if I say something nice.
"I have to go." He turned around and walked away, well not walk, he probably wanted to get away from me. Even one of the nicest people in Lima doesn't like me. I really hate my life. I gather my things and prepare to face the wrath of my father at home. Maybe tonight, he'll leave me alone. But I can only wish.