Somewhere Only We Know (Shoey)

Chapter Eleven- 'Fuck.'

Chapter Eleven- 'Fuck'

-Joey's P.O.V-

"What have you done, Shane?"

Fear.

Stress.

Jealousy.

His face showed all of these emotions. I quickly walked past him, searching for the kitchen. It wasn't hard to find, I just followed the drops of scarlet along the floor.

How could he do this to himself?

Tap. Tap. Tap. Shane was following closely behind me, like a lost dog.

"Joey, you need to leave! My dad could be home any minute! Leave. Now!", he demanded, I couldn't see his face but I knew by the sharpness of his tone and the rapid speed of his words, he was terrified at the thought of his dad returning.

I completely ignored him, even when he started pleading with me.

"Please, Joey, you need to get out! Please!"

Why would I just leave him here? I rushed towards the cloth sitting by the sink. I needed to stop the bleeding. I needed to do something. Tiny mouldy pieces of old food, thin wiry hair and, by the look of it, anything else you could have imagined clung to the blue fabric. I couldn't use it, unless I wanted to infect his wrist.

My whole body pivoted towards Shane. Blood fell from is sliced wrist into a swirling pool at his feet. I needed to do something.

I stood there for a minute and stared at the puddle, thinking. My top!

"Joey, what are you doing?", Shane slurred.

I pulled my short sleeved t-shirt over my head, making my hair fall out of it's up-right position and stick up in all different directions. A few short steps closer to Shane and I was able to place my once clean t-shirt on to his once smooth skin.

"Ahh..", His face twisted with pain at first, but soon softened out again. His blue eyes tried to get my attention, I could feel them staring at me, but I pretended like I didn't notice and lightly dabbed, gently wiped and weakly pressed the cloth against his arm.

"It's the bugs' fault", Shane sighed, shaking his head in disgust, "if they wouldn't have gotten under my skin in the first place nothing would have happened."

"What bugs? How much did you drink?", I questioned, letting my eyes slip behind him, making sure to glance at the aftermath of his drinking session again.

"Not that much.." Shane slurred, hiccuping at the end, not backing up his answer at all.

"Okay", I mumbled, knowing that he wasn't telling the truth, "Do you have a first aid kit anywhere?", I needed to bandage him up quickly, my top wasn't helping at all anymore.

"No"

"Right.. We need to go to the hospital, but I need to bandage that cut, where will I get a bandage? I'll have to bring him to my house.", I listed of allowed.

"Yay, let's go then", Shane grinned. Is this not extremely painful?

"Are you not sore?", I asked, helping him stand straight whilst we headed towards the door. He looked at me, confusion written all over his face.

"No, why would I be?", The smell of vodka made my nostril flare, it wasn't hard to miss the reek of his breath, especially being so close to his face.

How drunk was he?

"Your wrist? The cuts are really deep, you're lucky you're not passed out at the minute", I stated, we needed to get to my house as soon as possible.

My hand touched the door knob, but suddenly I was completely washed over with embarrassment. How could I just walk outside with no top on?

"Can I barrow one of your shirts, Shane?"

"Yea, they're in my room. Go down that hall and it's the second door on the right. But hurry I'm starting to feel queasy", he said, grabbing is stomach.

My feet moved quickly down the hall until I got to his door, then I effortlessly swung the door open.

Dull.

Plain.

Bland.

I completely expected it. Half of the thin blue bed sheets were lying on the floor, another half full bottle of vodka lay on the pillow, it stared at me, it taunted me. Even slightly tempted me. But I knew I couldn't drink it, I needed to help Shane.

The walls were painted a cold bitter blue that would make anyone feel depressed. His carpet wasn't much of a carpet, it had once been cream, I think, but now it had a grimy grey tinge and looked like it hadn't been vacuumed in years.

I passed by the bed, and the vodka, I tugged the wooden handles of the wardrobe and I grabbed the first shirt I saw. Once I threw it over my head, I raced out the door only to be stopped in my tracks.

Fear erupted in my stomach.

"Oh faggot, is this your boyfriend!?", Shane's dad bellowed.

Fuck.
_____________________

Chapter eleven! Sorry for the long wait, it's funny because I didn't update for four days and now, once I have, the chapter isn't even long.. oops.

Sorry!

But from now on I'll update every two days!

600+ reads, wow!! Thanks for reading(:

Oh my gawsh, Joey and his beard, just, wow.

Anyhoo, sorry for any spelling mistakes! I've read over it once, but it's 03:20 and my brain isn't functioning.

Byee<3