The house is oddly quiet when I get back. I mean, you rarely hear it this quiet unless mom's in bed. She's always putting things away or hoovering, or something like that. And... Phil's never this quiet either.
"Mom? Phil?" I have a quick look around and find mom waiting in my room for me. Okay... you never go in my room. You either have a death wish, or someone's died.
"Hey, honey," she says softly. I frown. What's going on?
"Umm, listen, d'you want a drink, or something?"
"Where is he?" I demand. She sighs.
"His parents found out he was here. I tried to persuade them to let him stay long enough to at least say goodbye, but-" she stops mid sentence. I think the look on my face probably says it all. Why would they do that? It's not like it's not obvious that he hates those fucking people. "Damien, honey?" she asks, realising I'm having trouble processing this information. He's gone. Again.
I feel numb for a moment. And then I feel angry. Really. Fucking. Angry.
I blink and feel my fists curl up. Somehow, this feels like Kyle's fault. If he hadn't cornered me after school, I'd have been here with him. If it wasn't for fucking Kyle.
I turn and run down the stairs, barely aware of what I'm doing. I drive blindly for hours, until it gets dark, my anger growing more and more as I begin to realise he won't even be in the same state anymore.
So naturally, I find myself at Kyle's standing outside his house, screaming at the top of my voice about what a fucking dick he is. He leans out of the upstairs window and I look up, somehow getting even more pissed off just at seeing the bastard.
"What do you want, Damien?"
"You! As if you hadn't fucking destroyed my life enough!" he sighs. A sigh! Is that all this is worth? You keep me from being there for the only person in this world I give a shit about, and you sigh! "You're a fucking faggot ass bastard, y'know that? No one in this world can possibly hate you more than I do right now."
"I could guess that much."
"Phil's gone!" I yell, "he's gone, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. Because of you!"
"How is it my fault?"
"You cornered me after school, you dick! If you hadn't help me up so long, I might've had a chance to say goodbye!" he sort of shrugs.
"Not my problem." Not your problem? It'll be your fucking problem soon enough. I've run out of words. I just scream at him wordlessly. "So what do you want?"
"Go die in a hole, faggot," I snarl.
"Well you obviously came here for something." I did. But what's the point? What's the point of anything anymore? I've given up so many times, but Phil's always been around to help me through. Now? I haven't fucking got anybody. I flop down on the road, burying my head in the gap between my knees. He watches me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I ignore it.
"Damien?" I don't say anything. "Want a beer?" I look up. I've just spent the last five hours wanting you dead, and now you're offering me a beer? He disappears from the window and comes outside with a beer a moment later. I take it, have a bit and put it down. A look of concern flickers on Kyle's face. Why do you care, fag?
I lean back on my car, and he just watches me. I ignore him. He still watches me.
"I should go," I mumble after a while. I guess I'll get my mom to keep all the sharp things away from me and empty the meds cabinet and hope that it works as well without Phil as it would with him. There's not really any point, but I s'pose suicide's kinda selfish. I mean, you can't really use that logic on me when I'm worse than this, but for now...
"If you really want to," he says. I don't move. And he keeps fucking watching me. Eventually, I pick myself up and shove my car keys at him. Probably not a good idea to let me have a car right now, y'know? I try to go, but Kyle doesn't let me, grabbing a hold of my arm. I stop. I'm too tired to put up a fight. "Damien, I'm sorry."
"I dunno. Everything seems to be my fault lately."
"Doesn't matter. Nothing fucking matters."
"Don't say that." Why not? He prods me slightly.
"What?" I ask.
"C'mon, you can take a free swing at me. I won't fight back or anything." If you'd asked me that ten minutes ago, I'd have hospitalised you. Now, I can't be bothered. I shake my head a little.
"No point. It's hardly gonna bring Phil back, is it."
"Might make you feel better." I roll my eyes, turn and hit him as hard as I can be bothered.
"There, I feel less like lying in the middle of the freeway now. Thanks so much," I say sarcastically. He hesitates a second before hugging me. I don't hug him back, be I end up resting my head on his shoulder. He keeps hugging me, one hand moving up to stroke my hair a little.
I don't know how long we stay like that.
Long enough for me to end up crying.