Take It Out On Me [Malum AU]

Chapter 20

Dedication:deludedbullshippers5 just because all of your comments last chapter were in all caps. I assume you were either mad or sad, and that's the vibe I hoped to give off with this book. I just don't want you to, like, throw your phone at a wall or something because of this book. That would be bad.

The behind the scenes video was so Malum af.

Calum was huddled in a corner of his room with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his shaking hands. There were bags under his eyes, and countless cuts on his wrists. He had ran out of open space on his upper thighs on Tuesday, so he moved on to his stomach instead. Even though he was cutting and by now he didn't have much care for anything, he still didn't want anyone finding out about his addiction.

"Michael," he whispered through dry, cracked lips. He knew the boy was gone, but that didn't stop his drunk self from calling out for him.

It had been a week since Michael left, and Ms. Clifford had decided not to call the police. That crushed Calum, and he yelled at her, which his mum scolded him for.

He hadn't gone to school, instead stayed in his room doing the same things every day. Drink, cut, but don't get too close to the veins. That had been his routine this entire week. His friends had called him constantly after neither him nor Michael had showed up to school in a few days, but he ignored all of their attempts to contact him. They had even come by his house, but his mum told them that Calum just wasn't feeling well. She did, however, invite them inside and tell them about what happened with Michael. Calum heard the whole conversation.

His parents had excused him from church today, and today had been worse than the other six days he had been without Michael, for a reason Calum didn't really know. He just felt worse today than he did the other days this past week. 

After one more swig of whiskey, he stood, using the wall as support. He stumbled to his bathroom and cleaned himself up, then put all thirteen of his razors neatly back into their little box. Then, he did something he hadn't done in a week. He cried. He leaned against the wall outside of his bathroom and cried, his entire body trembling and his legs feeling as though they would give out on him. How could Michael leave him like that?

He didn't know what to do with himself, so he pulled on a black sweater and a pair of black sweat pants, then plopped down on his bed and just laid there, staring at the ceiling. He stayed there for so long that he lost track of time. When he finally dragged his eyes away from his ceiling and to his window, it was dark outside.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he sat up. He didn't feel drunk anymore, and he didn't even have a hangover. His eyes drifted to his guitar and notebook, and an idea came to him. Quickly, he grabbed his notebook and opened it to a blank page, then grabbed a pen and started writing.

It started when I was just fourteen

I had my whole life in front of me

I though that

"Honey?"

Calum's head snapped up. His mum was standing in his doorway, looking concerned.

"Dinner's done. I just came up here to tell you."

He just nodded in response.

"Calum." She closed his door and sat on his bed. "Come here."

"Mum, I'm doing something-"

"Here. Now."

He reluctantly walked over to her and sat beside her.

"I love you, and I don't like seeing you like this. Michael's gone, yeah, but that doesn't mean he'll be gone forever. He's only been gone for a week, and you've practically thrown yourself away. The school called me and said you weren't there at all this past week, and do you think I can't smell the whiskey?" Calum looked down in shame. "If you really want Michael back, sulking and drinking yourself away won't do a damn thing. So, come on."