This time when I get back to the den, I don't rip down the police tape, and I don't touch a thing, instead, using telekinesis to open and shut the doors. I lock myself back into my room, lay the mattress back on the floor and flop onto it. My thoughts refuse to be organised. They just fight each other for the most attention and it's like standing in a mosh pit when you're not moshing. Everyone else is moving around you, too fast for you to keep up and if you don't keep up someone ends up getting hurt.
That someone isn't always you.
In this case, it seems to be both me and Gemme that are getting hurt, though. I don't mind that I hurt. I hurt a lot. It's Gemme that I don't want to hurt. But she's getting hurt anyways. And I don't know how to stop that.
Y'see, I want to do what I said before, all that about learning how to love and be loved, and Gemme seems to be a willing enough teacher, if that's the right analogy to use. But now that I know I care, I don't know if I like it. Which is confusing in itself, because I don't know when I started caring, or even why. I think it's because she's nice to me. Even though I hurt her, she forgives me. I dunno. I want to care, I want to change.
But it was so much easier when I didn't care. Which is why I thought of running away when I got that money. I just wanted to escape. Being an emotionless bastard who destroyed people's lives without a second thought was so, so much easier than being forced to see what I can do to someone.
My mind goes blank when I stop making sense, usually, but it just seems to be getting louder and louder. Quickly realising that my brain isn't going to shut up, I light a cigarette and go to the kitchen to look for something that might be edible.
The cupboards are totally bare. It figures. Most things had drugs in them after all, and the police don't like drugs. I swear to myself, but I can't be bothered to go to the shop and get anything. So in a worse mood than I was before, I go back to my mattress and lie back down on it, trying to clear my mind.
And that's pretty much how my weekend goes. I lie on a mattress on the floor for two days, chain smoking. I don't eat or work out and I only get up when I really need to go to the bathroom. Sleep comes and goes, a few hours here a few hours there, and I know that come Monday evening, my mood will be at an all time low. I will be angry, hungry and bored of my brain's ceaseless noise. And probably kinda tired, despite my lack of physical activity.
Monday morning comes around, and the police haven't come back to the apartment all weekend. Probably too busy eating doughnuts to really give a toss. Or maybe they're super charging those taser guns. They're nasty. I look out of the window and see the sunlight illuminating the wall across the alley from this room. Yeah. My window opens onto an alley between two apartment blocks. Great view.
I sigh and figure another hour of lying there before I get up to have a shower will be fine. No one is expecting me to be in school. And certainly not on time. That hour passes all too quickly, and I pull myself up off the bed. I probably look like a zombie. I hate my brain. Why can't it shut up and sort things out for once?
I mean, how hard is it to answer yes or no to one little question? Do I like Gemme? Huh. Good luck getting a straight answer out of my brain. The "yes buts" chase each other around my head as I get in the shower and the "it's easier to just bugger off and never see her again" is beginning to give me a headache.
Focusing on washing myself, I try to ignore them for just a few hours. I might even go to all my lessons, just in an attempt to make my brain stop annoying me. Routine, if I had one, might have helped. So I make one, paying attention to each aspect of what I'm doing. Wash, get dressed, do my hair, put all spare clothes from bag on bed so I don't have to carry them all day, go to the bank and cash most of that money so no one can steal it, walk to school, count every step. Go to lessons.
None of it helps, by the way. In between each thing, should be "think about Gemme and get even more confused" but I couldn't be bothered to write that out so many times.
I don't even go to the music room, after school. I see Rayn, but I don't talk to him, and he figures something's up. He knows my temper. He stays away. I feel a lot like I'm about to snap, actually. I don't know if it's such a good idea to go see Gemme like this.
Now I just sound like I'm making excuses.
Maybe I am.
I don't know, anymore.