Three Reasons To Die || A.W.G

|| Joy Shitters and Lost Cause Junkies ||

Somebody stole my car radio and now, I just sit in silence - Car Radio - twenty one pilots

//

"Liz" Jet suddenly exclaims, his nails scrape the leather of the steering wheel mindlessly, his voice threaded in joy, "We did it!" And he gives this dimpled smile that's accentuated by the sun shadowing half his face and the three freckles on his top lip."Technically, he just took up the offer, I could always get turned down."

And to that he offers this over-exaggerated groan and rolls his eyes heavily. From the perspiration that built, his hair was a little less lively than it had been that morning; these tangled ginger strands wrapped themselves in messy twists and fell just over his eyes in an unkept manner. "You are the worst joy shitter I've ever met" I raise a brow with a lopsided and lethargic grin messing my lips.

"I'm the only joy shitter you've ever met Jet"

Suddenly, he swerved and the car twisted left; my body slamming hard and brutally against the handle of the van, probably pre-bruising my ribcage.

"Fuck Jet" I mutter and rub the sore knot at the back of my neck, and Jet sheepishly grazes his lower lip with his teeth, aggressively pulling out the keys from the ignition. I stumble out of the second hand van somewhat wearily with all sorts of sore knots tangling my muscles from the walking and the heat and the sudden body slam I endured due to Jet. It was apparent that Jet had experienced one of the best moments of his life, if it wasn't the smile that hadn't dropped from his features once, it was the skip he suddenly had to his step and I couldn't have been more happier for him at least, and while he was in his own state of mind, I steal a furtive glance of his face and his hair and his clothes and his arms and everything about him because I simply cannot understand how I'd manage to gain a friend like him. But, then again, lately I don't understand a lot of things.

"Jet do you have the keys?" I manage to question whilst catching my breath as we got to the third floor to the door of our apartment, and he merely offers this slanted grin while he dangles the silver keys from his index finger and twirls them around and around. "Just stick them in." And upon processing my words my eyes double in their size and my jaw hangs wide. Jet snorts this unattractive yet hopelessly attractive snort and bursts into a combustion of giggles. And through his short bursts of hysterics he manages to say. "That's what she said!" Then he stumbles like a drunk forward, and slots the keys in and twists, the door gives off an elating click.

There's this unconscionable wave of red on my cheekbones that burns my skin and neck and then I shuffle in after Jet and kick my shoes off immediately, rushing to the uncomfortable amenity of my loneliness in this bland room I call my own; which- ironically -is anything but bland and underneath the fifth floor board to the right of my dresser there's a container of mixed medicines I use for my own toxic self-medication.

"We're you going?" Just as I stand before the door of my room, Jet clasps my forearm tightly and drags me back to the front room, which surprisingly held little mess, and practically moulded me onto the maroon couch; sloppily decorated in this timeworn blanket which was melange of different hues knitted for us by a junkie which lived three blocks down.

"What do you want?" I asked as I folded my knees and crossed them over one another. And then his freckled lips no longer hold his wicked Cheshire grin and his eyes droop in this overwhelming sadness that engulfs my own and makes it worst and suddenly I want to cry because Jet never looks sad and Jet always smiles and he doesn't only look sad but extremely terrified and for some reason I want to offer him all the cells of joy I could offer but I have none because of this depressive mind of mine.

"My brother's gotten into some really deep shit." He began and then there's this glimmering window of threatening tears washing over his eyes and it tears my chest apart."Hunter?" My voice escapes like this short-lived whisper and it made me sick."Yeah and I mean, like, really deep shit" He tugs his hair with this sort of aggression that terrifies me half to death.

"Well, you guys don't even get along so?" And I mean that's really fucked-up of me to say, to sort brush off the subject with no sense of care or feeling or realization that this is in fact his own brother we're conversing about and in some form I've just told him to forget about it.

"Yes, but you see, to him it's this life or death situation" This deep scream erupts from the back of his throat never escaping his sealed lips, then, he sighs, "He got involved with a couple of dealers and has owed them almost six grand for the past year and they've let him off for so long because they trusted him in some form but now,-" and his voice shakes "now they've given him until next week and I tried to get him out I swear but I think I've just dug a deeper hole and- fuck Liz what do I do?" His voice cracks at my name and I want to scream for him but my expression remains monotonous "I've been smiling and laughing and trying to live but every time someone touches my shoulder or brushes my forearm I shit myself."

I still say nothing, remaining quite and still and invisible until he yells this painful shrieks that makes my own throat hurt."Please Liz, what the fuck do I do!" And he grasps my shoulders shakes as hard as he could go and all I manage is a single tear as he yells over and over again. "What do I do? What do I do!" And while he's screaming the string of suddenly discordant words in my face my hands and body begin to quake in anxiety and fear and nothing could make this worst.

After his yelling scratches his throat and his voice becomes helplessly cracked and grating I mumble the most unfavourable sentence I could have uttered in that situation."It's all your fault."He stops clawing and tearing at his head and arms and somewhat recovers from his breakdown to stare at me incredulously."What?" He mutters in this grinding tone and sweeps away the tears that swelled and reddened his eyes.

This time I yell. "It all your fault! Why couldn't you let him deal with his own fucking problems, none of us can help that his a junkie, why should you run and save his ass when you know darned well that he would never do the same for you?" I feel bad and terrible and sick and ever so dead because this isn't his fault but somehow I want to hate him, since all I'm capable of is detesting him t the point of adoration and I hate every single cell in my body far more than I ever have any other day.

"He was a lost fucking cause and you've just doubled the consequences. Well done, well-fucking-done, now you'll end up dead within the week and I'll be abandoned yet again." The guilt kicks in like a rock the size of continent falling and cracking my shoulder blades.

"There you go again, thinking about yourself in a situation that doesn't affect you in the least. Why the fuck do you have to be so fucking selfish? Why am I here to pick up your fucking shards whenever you break but whenever it's my turn to shatter you sweep the pieces up and throw them away? What's so wrong in wanting to help my brother in some form, why?"

Swiftly I feel hopelessly terrible once again and it's like the bile traveled up my throat in the form of all my fears and scratched the very back of my throat but refused to come out and left me gagging on air and I hate every inch of myself with every second that passed because I became this monster unlike the ones in polka dot and absurd colours underneath beds and inside closets because those were nice monsters but I became this vile creature so cruel and sick."There's nothing, absolutely nothing wrong in doing that and maybe it's my abandonment issues and I know how terrible I am but I really don't want to lose the only thing I have now and I just can't help being so desperately selfish."

And it's so humorlessly funny how a happy smile can switch into fury in a matter of seconds.

||

It's literally one am and this is all I could come up with and it's kind of dramatic and I'm trying to speed things up because we all want Alexander.

1496 words, kinda sucky compared to the previous chapter but still wowowow

stay well, stay alive, stay breathing.