Catch Me If You Can (Ronnie Radke Short Story)

Chapter Five

He looked horrible. He was covered in bruises and a little blood.

He had a big, black ring surrounding his left you, a red welt across his cheek, and bruise after bruise over his body. He sat up in his bed weakly.

The one idea I tried to ignore was true. Ronnie was abused. He could barely keep his eyes open.

"My dad's gonna be pissed about that lock," He said quietly.

"What happened?" I asked, still shocked that what I thought was very true.

"What do you think happened?" He said angrily.

"Why did your dad do this?" I asked worriedly, taking a careful step closer and trying to figure out what I could do to help him.

"I skipped school and went to the mall." He answered blankly.

My heart shattered and my lungs stopped working. It was my fault he was hurt. If I didn't take us to the mall, he wouldn't be in this position. I walked out of the room, tears in my eyes.

"Legacy..." Kasey called after me.

I didn't listen. I felt horrible. I went downstairs and ran outside. I sat of the front steps and started crying. I knew it was a bad idea going to the mall. I should've just stayed at the school with him. A few minutes later, I heard the door open, then close again.

"What are you doing out here? Ronnie's worried about you," Kasey said, walking up beside me.

"I don't want to see or talk to him. This is my fault." I responded, wrapping my arms around her legs and leaning into them as I released a fresh wave of tears.

"No, it isn't. If anything. it's my fault. I made him come with us," Kasey said, trying to persuade me, but I wasn't hearing it.

"I shouldn't have driven, though, I'm just as guilty," She didn't say anything then, because she knew I was right. There was no use denying it.

"Well, I'm gonna head home. I know you don't live far from here, so you can walk home. I don't wanna face him," I said sadly as I got up to leave.

Kasey stood and gave me a hug, "It's not just your fault," Kasey said before she walked back in the house.

I got into my car and silently drove away. The entire ride to my house was quiet except for the few tears that kept escaping and my sniffling nose.

I quietly walked into my house. I didn't want my parents to know I even left the house. I would be in a lot of trouble. Then I hit my shin on the table, "Shit."

My mother walked in, "Legacy, what are you doing? I thought you were upstairs. You snuck out, didn't you?!" She asked accusingly, already knowing that I did.

"Yeah, I was with Kasey," I said. I don't want to tell her about Ronnie, yet.

"Legacy, I dont think Kasey is a very good influence," she said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly feeling very defensive.

"It's just, ever since you met her, you've been acting out."

"It's not her fault, don't accuse her. It's my fault," I said, my eyes tearing up for the second time today.

I hate it when she says things like that about Kasey. I also hate crying. It makes me feel weak and helpless.

"I just think you need to hang out with your other friends," she said, in what, I guess, she thought was a comforting way.

"What friends, Mom? I don't have any but her!" I yelled, causing my step-dad to come into the room, but he didn't say anything.

"What about Kaylee? I thought you two were friends," she said, causing my blood to boil hotter than I even imagined.

"Don't you bring up that backstabbing bitch to me, mom! I hate Kaylee! She hurt me in unimaginable ways. But you wouldn't know, you're too focused on being a push-over and making Dave happy than paying attention to me!" I screamed.

Why do we have to fight now? I could see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. For the second time today, I felt like I died inside.

"Legacy, your mother is only trying to help you." Dave said.

Those words. I hate them. Trying to help you. Salty tears streamed down my face quicker at them. Leave it to Dave to make it seem like I have a disease.

I ran up to my room and slammed the door and locked it. I didn't want my parents to come in right now. I sat in the corner and cried until I thought that I was out of tears.

I hate myself for this.

I ran to my desk and shook my white piggy bank that I got at my aunt's weeding. When what I was looking for fell out of it, I ran back to my corner.

I was looking for my razor.

I looked at my already ruined arm.

I do this too much.

I laid the sharp edge against my wrist, thinking about Ronnie's hurt because of me and that my parents think that I "need help". Yep, I deserve this. I pressed down and dragged the razor across my wrist. It hurt, but I needed this to keep me sane.

Blood started dripping down my arm and on to the carpet. I leaned my head against the wall and closed by eyes. It hurt so bad, but I needed it. After I started to feel lightheaded, I smiled.

I hope I never wake up.

Then, I stopped smiling. I can't die. Not yet.  I got up and stumbled to my bathroom. I ran my wrist under cold water. When the bleeding stopped enough, I bandaged it. I decided that I was going to fix what happened to Ronnie. I just don't know how to help yet.