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Some fucker ran into me, and with a growl, I stood from my chair and shoved the dick to the floor. He called me an asshole or something for shoving him, and I bared my teeth.
His eyes flashed.
That’s right, asswipe.
It kind of astounded me how I didn’t even need my name to intimidate people. I was at some random party in a city far away from where I lived and the influence my family’s name had there. I’d been to a lot of cities lately. Some small. Some big.
This one was big.
Flick. Close. Flick. Close.
The guy on the floor cringed when I stepped over him. He probably thought I’d stomp his face in after he called me an asshole.
Lucky for him, I didn’t care enough.
Flick. Close. Flick. Close.
Some girl easily half a decade older than me tried to kiss me on the way to the bathroom. I shoved her ass to the floor too, but she didn’t cringe when I slammed the bathroom door in her face.
She laughed.
There were a lot of fucked-up people at this party. I didn’t know how many people I’d seen passed out or on the verge of it. This was a nice house, and nice houses typically had good drugs and lots of booze. People who had money threw the best parties.
I took my fill of the alcohol but stayed away from all that drug shit unless it was weed. I didn’t need any help being fucked up.
Flick. Close. Flick. Close.
I was in the bathtub now. I came into the bathroom for quiet and ended up going to the shower and pulling back the curtain. I sat there and finished off my beer.
Flick. Close. Flick. Close.
The world started to blur after a while, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with all the beer in my system. Lately, I’d been in nothing but a brain fog. It was some deep shit. Dark shit.
You’re an asshole. A failure…
They’d all be better off without you.
I wished I had more beer. I wished I could block out the noise in my head.
End it. End it so they don’t have to deal with you.
They shouldn’t have to deal with me. Not Dorian, Thatcher, or Wells, and hundred percent not my parents. My folks were good people, and they shouldn’t have to…
Flick. Close. Flick. Close.
I saw the blade move toward my arm, a good vein.
End it. They’ll move on. It’ll be better for them.
I had so much guilt surrounding my friends and family. They got this fucked-up version of me all the time. They got me and my mental shit, and it was even worse for my folks. They’d lost a kid and ended up with this one. This fucked-up, broken kid.
End it. Just end it.
The voice in my head was always mine, but I never listened.
I thought today I would.
It’d be easier for my family if I was gone. They didn’t need me, and they would move on. Dorian and the other guys too. They’d all be sad for a while, but in the end, things would be so much better for them.
