The Suicide Pact (on hiatus)

Chapter 3

As soon as Simon had entered the car he could feel the tension emanating from his father. His dad didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. He could tell that Mitch was angry at him for not hurrying up when he’d come to pick him up. His silence only meant that he was building his anger up, preparing the hurtful words he was going to unleash on Simon. But Simon was prepared, he always was.

“What took you so long?” Mitch asked calmly as they drove down the snowy roads towards the hospital.

“I-I’m sorry, Dad. I had to pick up some homework I’d forgotten in class-”

Mitch scoffed. “Homework?” He repeated. “Fucking homework? Shouldn’t you have already had that prepared before you left the classroom? But because your dumb ass forgot you made me wait in this fucking car for you? I should’ve left your ass to walk home in the snow, but the only reason I didn’t is because your mother wants to see you.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t know why.”

Simon was quiet as he stared out the window. It was snowing again and he watched peacefully as the snowflakes fell onto the window of his car. Snow was always so serene and beautiful. It was the one thing he liked about the shitty town he lived in. He actually wouldn’t have minded much walking in the snow. He would’ve walked all the way to the hospital to see his mother.

He was snapped out of his serenity when he felt a hand slap him in the back of his head.

“So you don’t have anything else to say for yourself?” Mitch asked, now angrier that he couldn’t get a reaction out of Simon. “You worthless piece of shit it’s already going to be four fucking o’clock.” He stopped the car. “Visiting hours are over.”

“N-No.” Simon said, frantically, desperate to see his mother that he missed. “They end at five, Dad.”

“What’s the point? We’ll only be there for an hour and then we have to drive all the way back! This is your fault!” He screamed and reached over with a closed fist to hit Simon in the mouth. “It’s all your fucking fault.”

Simon felt his head bounce back as the fist impacted with his mouth. He held onto his mouth and tried to hold back the tears but they just came flowing out. He wasn’t crying because the punch hurt, he wasn’t even crying from all of the blood pouring out of his mouth and into his hand. No, he was crying because he’d been looking forward to seeing his mom. It’d been the one thing keeping him going this entire week and his dad had taken that from him. He’d taken away the one thing that Simon actually looked forward to in his miserable, pathetic life.

“Stop crying like a bitch boy and take the hit like a man.” He started up the car. “We’ll visit her another day.”

What Mitch seemed unable to understand is that his wife was dying. Prolonging seeing her only gave them less time to spend with her. Instead of spending every waking second with her, Mitch rather go home and drink and torture Simon. Now that she was gone he could torture his son all he wanted. Simon knew that’s why he was so eager to get home, the sick bastard.

But he couldn’t stop crying. The thought of not seeing her broke his heart and devastated him. He wasn’t sure if he could wait until the first week of December, but one thing he did know is that he was going to spend an entire day with his mother before he died. He would make sure of it. And when he died, he would be waiting for her to join him. That was his dream.

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Tabitha stared down at the hot chocolate and glazed donut in front of her as Lane sat across from her, drinking his own hot chocolate. They were both freezing from their long walk from the high school to the donut shop and Tabitha still couldn’t get one annoying thought out of her head. Why the fuck was he being so nice to her? She could only think of one thing. He wanted to have sex with her, it was obvious. That was the only reason any guy was nice to her. It’s because they all thought she was some easy drug addict who pulled her pants down for some ecstasy pills.