What He Wouldn't Give (Unedited Version)

Chapter Ten: Two Years After Death...

            Two Years Since Death...

Journal Entry 90...

"I DON'T KNOW." He screamed.

Shattered glass was scattered on the floor, blood began to pool in his hands. The cut was deep it seemed from the amount of blood that now was dripping onto the floor.

"I don't know." This time it came out as a mere whisper. Barely could hear the three little words.

'I'm not perfect what more do you expect. I make one little mistake and everything I've worked so hard for is gone. Nothing that I've done before matters, everything's focused on that one mistake.'

Yet no one could hear his thoughts, no one could see it from his point of view, he was just an immature child who needed to grow up. Unfortunately he had grown up way too fast for his age and this was a side effect that he could never get rid of. No matter how hard he tried in anything, there was always one mistake that would make everything he tried so hard for crumble, and whatever he thought or knew didn't matter.

He knew everything seemed too good to be true, in the moment he wished it could have stayed like that, but once that someone came home the nightmare resumed. It was a never ending nightmare that no matter what, he'd never be able to escape. Yet tomorrow he was supposed to get up and smile in front of a camera and act like everything was okay that nothing was wrong. How could you expect that? He was used to it, pretending like everything was okay and putting aside everything that mattered because he didn't want to acknowledge that this was his life.

No one could ever know, how was he ever supposed to trust anyone to ever tell what was going on in his life, let alone mind. How was he supposed to get help when the one person he was supposed to trust was the one that hurt him the most? His head started to hurt the pain of a headache was coming and he couldn't deal with it. He was only seventeen. He wasn't supposed to be going through anything like this, he knew life wasn't fair, but why him? Why was this happening to him? What did he do to deserve all this?

Everything leading up to that moment was the calm before the storm. Just as everything seemed normal the foundation he was standing on was uprooted and destroyed. He wanted to give up, give in, however he knew he couldn't he promised her he'd never do anything like that. Swallowing the lump in his throat, blinking back tears as his thoughts haunted him. He just wished everything would shut up and not be bothered by any kind of thought whatsoever. Bad thoughts, good thoughts, none of those matter he just wanted an empty head.

Slowly ever since the decline he had been losing interest in anything he liked. First the guitars, then it was skating, sports, hanging out with people, school anything he liked or had interest in now aren't appealing to him. Getting yelled at was now the norm for his life it seemed. Sure maybe for a few days, occasionally a week or two everything seemed fine, but really it was never fine. The one thing he loved the most was listening to music, he rarely did that anymore, he couldn't even pick himself up to sing along to his favorite song in the entire world. All was lost.

The color in his eyes had long faded, dull showing no evidence of the person that they used to belong to. He didn't want to talk at all, he wanted to remain quiet because then nothing he could say could be used against him. He was stuck in a place he didn't want to be. No power, nothing at all; he had nothing. Maybe he was nothing. Robotic like; waking up each day doing the same thing over and over. He couldn't remember the last time he did something he wanted because he could do it. When was the last time he felt hungry and didn't force himself to eat something because he knew the danger of skipping meals too often?