Cliche (Lams)

Chapter Thirty

Trigger Warning.

Alec Pov
It was the weekend.
I wore long sleeve shirts to cover up what I had done the night before.
Nobody needs to know.

I sat down at on the couch next to Laf and we watched Tv together.
Martha came into the room.

"Hey boys. At work some ladies were talking about getting their kids tutors...and I was hoping you two could tutor a couple of boys for about two weeks?" She asked.

Laf and I nodded and muttered agreements.

"How old are the kids?" Laf asked.

"Twelve and nine."
"Aight."

"Alec did you take your pills?" Martha asked.

"Mhm." I hummed not looking away from the Tv.

"I couldn't find them in the cabinet." She said.

"They're in my room. You could check if you want." I replied.

She won't.
She trusts me.
Why does she trust me?

"Alright. I believe you." She muttered going to the kitchen.

I lied.

I've made so many mistakes it's hard to count.
I regret it.
I regret everything.
Suicide is the one thing I can't live through to regret it.

I can't remember myself.
But the thing is, there's nothing to remember.

I was born into a family that couldn't provide and learned that I was never enough. That I couldn't change fucking anything.

My self confidence was gone by age twelve and replaced with anxiety.

Anxiety decided to bring depression to the party.

Depression decided to invite their old fried PTSD because post traumatic stress always brings the best stories.

That was sarcasm if you couldn't tell.

The trauma overwhelms my brain to find a coping method.
Wether it hurts my body, my mind or not.

I got off the couch and headed to the bathroom. The second I closed the door I curled into a ball and just sat there.

Letting all depression spit out all its angry words at me.
Letting the anxiety trying to pull me and get me to do something.

The PTSD stood by depression, shaking its head and playing a movie of memories.

Phase?
How'd I think it was a fucking phase? I'm mentally fucking ill.

Someone save me.
Somebody help me.

I wanted to scream.
To tell all the voices to just go away! LEAVE ME ALONE!

But I knew they never would.
I've tried.
I've honestly started to stop trying. Not completely, but slowly.

I wanted to scream so someone could hear me and somebody could help but at the same time I didn't want anyone to hear.

For anyone to see I was drowning.

I wanted to cut.
I needed to cut.
The blade was in my room.

I didn't cut too much last night.
Only a little bit.
It's never enough is it?

I pulled my head out of my hands and sighed. I got up and walked back into the living room and sat next to Laf.

"Do you wanna tutor the twelve year old or the nine year old?" He asked.

"Uhh...twelve. Did Martha say when we were gonna start?" I asked.

What if the kids don't like you?
What if they think you're stupid?
What if you mess up and they insult you as a joke but it really hurts?
What if they find that one major insecuri-

"Next Monday." He said, changing the channel.

I nodded.
It was quiet besides from the Tv.

"Hey Herc asked if you want to come to his house with me and John so we can play D&D. You want to join?"

(D&D is Dungeons and Dragons)

"Yeah sure. Like, now?" I asked.

"If that's cool with you, yeah." He replied.

"Alright." I said smiling.

Nobody needs to know of the mess I am.
Smile,
so they don't see the damage.