Read The Boy Who Found Himself Page 2

hated me. Please, Mandy... let’s just talk.” I whispered pathetically, feeling hot tears spilling down my cheeks.

  “Maybe it’s just you that hates you, ever thought about that?” She raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at the door.

  “I love you, just remember that.” I tried to kiss her cheek but she turned away sharply. Short of kidnapping her there was nothing more to be done, her sister had wrecked our relationship for no reason and that was that. I learnt pretty quickly in life that shit happens, but as easygoing as the phrase sounds, coming to terms with it is a lot harder.

  We went for a walk on the beach, Olivia and I. We had been going out a month or so, and the passion was immeasurable. Sixteen year olds in love, a formidable force. We sat, my arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, both of us shivering against the bitter ocean wind. The surf trickled ever closer to our feet, and we sat giggling as the sea came in around us.

  “Jesus!” I cried as a small wave slapped my back on its journey back to the sea.

  “Don’t get up or you’ll ruin the game!” Olivia laughed, keeping a tight hold of my arm. As the next wave approached, she suddenly turned and kissed me, and we stayed that way for a long time until I realised the hands searching my face and hair were practically blue.

  “You’re freezing! Come on, let’s go home. This is stupid.” I pushed down with my hands to get up but they sunk uselessly into water and wet sand. Panicking, I realised my entire lower half was stuck.

  “That’s the game.” She smiled. “We’re stuck, now. We’ll have to wait and hope we don’t die. At least if we do, we’re dying together, ey?”

  “I can’t imagine a better way to go.” The panic died down inside of me as I squeezed her tight. After a while we decided today wasn’t our time, and we pulled ourselves out of the sand and walked to the pile of rugs, towels and blankets we had brought. We wrapped them around us both and walked home together, stumbling from the weight of so many layers and having to keep our footsteps in time with each other from being wrapped so tightly together.

  “It’s time for you to die, okay?” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “You’ve ruined every chance of happiness I ever had. I can’t let you live with so many of my tears staining your soul. Don’t you want me to love anyone, or to be loved?” I paced the bathroom, razor still in my hand. I stared at him in the bath.

  “No. You don’t deserve to be loved.” He spat. Slashes made stripes all over his half naked body. It felt good to see them; visual evidence that finally revenge had been completed. He was never going to get away with wrecking my life anymore. Every dribble of blood I saw was another weight lifted from my shoulders, every shriek a good payback for a lonely night spent crying.

  Lastly...

  “If I don’t deserve to be loved, you don’t deserve to live. Goodbye, Tommy.” I raised the razorblade and thought of every wrongdoing he had ever caused.

  - My dog Ludo, I knew it was Tommy. My dad and Tommy’s mum had been having an affair for months, if not years. Tommy had gotten so angry, he raged and shouted about it the day before. He tormented me about it. The night Ludo was killed, I didn’t see Tommy and he suspiciously went missing that night. Ludo was found, hung by a thick rope, on our garden tree. The police hadn’t interviewed me as I was in such a state, and the killer was never found. If I had been interviewed, Tommy would have been arrested, and Ludo’s murderer would have been punished.

  - Olivia had cheated on me, with Tommy. From the first day we became an official couple, Tommy flirted relentlessly with Olivia. At night he would text her for hours on end and show me her replies the next day. He would invite her out places and buy her gifts and I was never sure if she saw him as a protective older brother, or as a potential partner. When I found out they had slept together at our friend’s party, I had stormed in and my Guns N Roses t-shirt had been ripped in the fight. I never saw her again after that.

  - Amanda’s sister had been approached by Tommy numerous times during our relationship, almost to the point of stalking. He told her dirty stories about what I had told him about Amanda. Although she scoffed at first, eventually when he started including intimate details about her sister that he had found out, she believed him and told Amanda everything. During our final argument, she informed me of everything that Tommy had said, including Mandy being a skinny whore that wasn’t great in bed, and her sister a fat troll that spied on us having sex.

  - After Amanda broke up with me, all of my friends deserted me. For the last few years up until buying the razorblade, the only conversations I had were at work. During those eight hours a day I was social and outgoing, then after work I drove home and turned back into the hermit I truly was. I had no friends after they all found out what I had apparently said.

  “You can’t kill me.” He laughed menacingly. “You fucking idiot. You’ve always been so stupid. So blind to the truth.”

  “What truth?” I held the razorblade to his throat. When he gulped, it scraped the sharp edge. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

  “If I die, you die. If I don’t, you’ll be locked away for the rest of your life. You’re living in a fantasy world. Wake up!” He smirked.

  “What are you talking about?” My hand wavered. Something about his words made sense.

  “My name isn’t Tommy. It’s Nick.” He moved away my hand, and wandered out of the bathroom. I was alone in the partial darkness of the setting sun. My breathing was shallow and fast. I shook all over as the sound of my heartbeat made me feel dizzy. The razorblade dropped noisily onto the tiles, and skittered away.

  It’s Nick. It’s Nick. It’s Nick. It’s Nick. It’s Nick.

  Tommy and I playing together, climbing trees and catching insects, keeping them in jars until they died.

  Tommy.

  Tommy and I racing each other to the shop. I tripped on a paving stone, and Tommy giggled, running ahead. A car, and a deafening bang with a blood curdling scream.

  Tommy.

  In the hospital, waiting for Tommy to wake up and stop playing pretend. The strange beeping machine making a loud, unbroken noise. Doctors and nurses rushing Tommy away. My parents crying.

  Tommy.

  Going into Tommy’s house to see if he wants to go to the cinema. Walking in to his mum’s bedroom and seeing her and my dad in bed together. Crying and sprinting home.

  It’s Nick.

  Going into the garage for some rope. Grabbing Ludo, my dad’s dog he had been forced to leave behind. The dog he wanted to take more than me. Drugging the stupid mutt and tying the rope tightly around its neck and climbing the tree to wrap it around a low branch.

  It’s Nick.

  Joining secondary school with Tommy as my only friend. Meeting pretty girls and making them laugh.

  It’s Nick.

  Asking Olivia to be my girlfriend. Texting all night long, going on lots of fun days out. Being happy.

  It’s Nick.

  Waking up naked next to Olivia’s best friend and not remembering how it happened. Her friend waking up too, and ripping my Guns N Roses t-shirt with a coy smile, pulling me back to her.

  It’s Nick.

  Olivia finding out about me cheating, and breaking up with me. Not understanding why she didn’t understand Tommy was out to ruin my life from jealousy.

  It’s Nick.

  Mum dying a few weeks after my nineteenth birthday. Being taken to the doctors and getting anti-depressants. Refusing to take them every day, preferring razorblades to pills. Asking Amanda out, almost remembering what it’s like to be happy.

  It’s Nick.

  Her sister trying to kiss me after I comfort her while waiting for Amanda to come home. Refusing, and afterwards using her as a way to smear my own name. “No. You don’t deserve to be loved.” Remembering that everything I love dies or cheats. Waiting for her sister to tell Amanda.

  It’s Nick.

  Losing all my friends and becoming a recluse. Feeling my hatefulness towards Tommy grow until bursting point. Buyi
ng a razorblade and using it to mutilate my body.

  I’m Nick. I’m Tommy. Feeling the vomit rise in my throat, I run in to my shabby bedroom. I grab the pot of anti-depressants and force them all down my throat. I walk into the kitchen and grab the bottle of gin and find my stash of medication. I down a third of the gin and begin drinking shots of gin mixed with various pills. Feeling sick again, I wash my thoughts away with more gin. Going back to the bathroom, I lie in the bathtub and realise Tommy is sitting on the toilet. The room is spinning violently now, and I manage a smile. The world begins to fade as my eyes close. The last person I see before I go is Tommy, five years old and giggling because I stumbled and couldn’t get back up in time to save him.

  The END.

  ###

  Thank you for reading!

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