~:~ Barely Human ~:~

~:~ Chapter 8 - Pick up, please ~:~

~ Keith didn't remember the last time he slept properly. It's probably been days. He can't think at all. There's nothing. Absolutely nothing. He feels numb. Empty. Hollow.

He doesn't feel like himself.

Because he's not himself. He's let himself become something demonic. He let himself go too far and now he's done something inhuman. He's done something that will see him in hell. Where he'll burn forever without the pain he should feel beneath that eternal fire.

Every morning was a struggle to get out of bed and every day was a challenge to pull through. He knew Shiro was beginning to worry. He knew his parents were concerned. Even his new 'friendly acquaintances' from school had noticed the dark bags beneath his eyes. Every time they would bring it up Keith'd just brush it off as stress over moving. They didn't question it any further.

Keith didn't have the willpower to do anything, he felt like he was sinking. He'd killed someone. Someone died at his owns hands, and no matter how bad that person themselves had been it still weighed heavily on the fact that Keith had taken their life. No matter how much they didn't deserve to live it.

Keith was afraid.

Afraid of himself.

His phone lit up again for the thousandth time that week. The same name sitting at the top of the screen. He didn't have the courage to face him, whether that be for a while or forever. Keith didn't want to see Lance, yet he missed him so much.

He didn't want to get him involved.

That was his exact mindset since the moment Keith had met him, and look at what happened because he let himself stray too far. He knew the risks, he knew what was the right thing to do at the very beginning. But something about Lance just threw all his sense of reason out the window to replace it with everything else. When there was Lance, there was colour. There was life. The was no reason to be afraid. He was calm around him. He felt safe.

But boy was he far from that now. He couldn't see him, he wouldn't anymore. He'd let it go, forget all about him. He would force himself to put it behind him for Lance's sake, and then Keith would move away and this time, he would never associate himself with the fire that resided his body. He would extinguish the existence of this flame.

He would be normal.

Keith leans back against the worn away fabric of the couch out the front of the house. The neighbourhood was bustling, there were birds singing merrily and people out for morning walks on a particularly fine day. It was pleasant, a day that would normally take Keith's mind off any of his troubles.

With a long sigh Keith slides his hands into his pocket, his knuckle brushes against something smooth that catches his attention. He pulls it out and examines it.

Haggar's School Counselling.

Office open and free all school hours.

Phone: xxx xxx xxx

His eyes wander over the golden calligraphy a few times. His mind feels like that crackling static of a untuned television until finally he finds himself pulling out his phone and dialing the number on the card. He didn't know what he was doing, but he felt the need to talk. There was no one he could tell, Lance was cut out of his life and he couldn't face his family.

He needed to let this all sink in, what happened happened and no matter how much Keith wishes it hadn't or it hadn't been him, it did and it was. There was no way to change it. He needed to take the weight off his chest. Of course, he wouldn't tell what happened word for word, or even the fact that Keith actually killed someone, he just needed to talk. He just needed to communicate, he deprived himself of it for a while now.