Be My Addiction

4 • Heavy Metal

Ethan

School was... well, to be honest, I don't know. I went through the day mostly numb.

For the first day of school, the teachers were overly excited and it seemed the students were too.

Was I like that?

I don't remember being so excited or enthusiastic about school but, more than likely, I probably was. Gross.

Throughout the day, teachers encouraged me to join in activities or share things about myself but I didn't see the point. Most of the kids there probably already knew a lot about me. More than I'd like. So instead of pretending to be excited or into the subject, I just sat back and pretended not to be there. Soon enough, even the teachers returned the gesture. I found out that a few of the jocks were littered into my classes, which wasn't uncommon seeing as it was a small school. My only problem with that would be that now I had to avoid being around them. If I even sat beside them, someone was bound to look in my direction and I did not want any extra attention.

I had enough of that when I showed up to school. It was obvious everyone was talking about me because the second I walked in, it was dead quiet. Not to mention most of the kids in the hallway were looking at me. I could only imagine what everyone was thinking. With my inability to read minds, and my poor self-esteem, I could picture what they were saying.

'Weak'

'The crash was his fault'

'Murderer'

'Drop out'

But maybe they were just my thoughts. Technically the crash was my fault. The only reason I'm not on trial is because the judge who handled my case didn't really see it as murder. I mean sure... I didn't mean to glance off of the road. I didn't mean for the car to crash into the ditch and I didn't mean for Brian to die...

But it was still my fault. And now Brian was gone.

Brian is dead.

I was spiraling, my thoughts drifting into darkness. My anxiety started clawing at my chest as the final bell rang, dismissing everyone to go to their busses, cars as well as to walk home. The pills were wearing off and it left me feeling anxious and nervous.

I haven't been able to go near a car since the accident. I remember how reckless I used to be. No seatbelts. Driving carelessly. I even used to purposely drift down dirt roads. It used to be exciting and fun.

Boy have things changed.

I left the school building and started walking home while trying to avoid the road as much as possible.

A few people gave me glances though no one made a move to talk to me. All they do is look. That's my fault, I suppose. I didn't allow anyone to approach me.

Either way, I walked home alone.
My house was in the middle-class side of town. My family wasn't super wealthy but we weren't struggling either.

I looked at the building as I walked up the sidewalk. Mowed lawn, clean front yard and a nice fenced in backyard too. But the house was just a house. Taking a step in, you could feel the tension in the air. Its been like this since the accident. No one was home at the moment - besides me - but even when someone was here, it didn't feel like a home.

Mom and dad have both been taking time for their jobs. I'm convinced they are avoiding me.

I wouldn't blame them.

I am pretty sure they blame me for the accident, much like I blame myself. Maybe avoiding me is better than looking at me.

You probably disappoint them.

Times like this make me wish I couldn't think. Maybe if I had more distractions, I wouldn't have all these negative thoughts...

Slowly, my eyes scanned upwards towards my room. It was easy for me to retrace my steps to the medicine cabinet in my bathroom. The pills were there. Surely they could help me.

No.

I didn't have much restraint but I needed to watch my dosage. I didn't want to overdose and I needed to save what I have until my next paycheck.

I work at a dog rescue center. Mostly Pitbulls are what we manage because of the stigma around them. The dogs I've met were more damaged than the people complaining of their violent behaviors. It's sad really. They are such beautiful and loyal animals who just want to belong.

Guess you could say I relate.

Either way, I needed to save my money. So I had to move to a less controlling form of coping.

I went into the basement where it was practically soundproof and shut the door, locking it. Looking around, I threw my bag down and turned on the radio to heavy metal music.

Don't ask me why but for something with screaming involved, it had an odd way of soothing me.

So yes. Heavy metal it was.