Other Fan Fiction ❯ Stress Relief ❯ Chapter 1

 

There's no real title for this.

Sorry

 

Seems like I'm sorry for a lot of things lately. Sorry, about getting so pissed off and emotionally overwhelmed that I have a splitting headache. Sorry, for not having the alcohol to make me just not give a fuck anymore.

 

I pride myself in being the class clown, ya know? I guess, I just wanted to be the person that lifted everyone's spirit a little in hard times. But today. Man, today had way too many things, issues, for me to handle.

 

I found out that my best friend was raped by her boyfriend. She says that he was high and suffering from sleep deprivation. Should I really give him forgiveness for that? Those sounded more like excuses to me. But who am I to take away her vision of `he loves me and wouldn't hurt me willingly'? It didn't mean I didn't want to hurt him in the worst way.

 

How the fuck do you hurt….rape someone you've been going out with for three years? When she talked about him before all this…shit happened, she talked with nothing but happiness. Like this Halloween just passed. He wore a scary clown mask and scared the two girls she was walking with. I was in tears imagining what she told me next. The three year old she'd been carrying was brave enough to face him. Punched him right in the balls. Not that she could reach any higher.

 

I watched her ebony eyes glitter with amusement while she told the story. Yeah, maybe I was a little jealous because she had THAT kind of relationship. Her and her…boyfriend?...ex?...I don't know if she forgave him or not, had fights and made up, took care of each other when they were sick and much more.

 

Imagine my surprise when she came to school with barely contained tears. Imagine my surprise when she stared at me with that `I can't believe it' look on her face when she said the words `He raped me'. I thought she was playing at first. Joking. Then she said `I just feel numb. Like my body is totally numb'. My whole day crumbled around that. He had hurt her.

 

I was sorry I didn't know who the fuck he was. I would give anything to hurt him like she was hurting now.

 

Then she went on to tell me how sorry he said he was when he finally woke up and remembered what he did. She said he wanted to talk, to make things right. A part of me wanted that to happen. They were so happy together. Even when she was on the verge of tears, she was talking about all the funny things. Like the girl with the Stewy doll subtly telling her boyfriend that he had a large head. I laughed for her because I knew that's what she wanted.

 

After that class, I could feel a blackness growing in my chest. Is that dramatic or what? But I felt a hole there. Hatred….sadness….I don't know. I wanted to hurt someone. A particular someone but I promised not to use names. I'm not even supposed to be telling the story. But I feel that if I don't get this out of my head now, I'd clean out my parent's alcohol cabinet without thinking twice.

She doesn't want anyone to know. Not even her mother. She doesn't want to press charges…I don't even think she wants to come to terms with what had happen. And the whole time I'm like `damn, wish it was me.' I wanted to be in her place or there with her. I wouldn't have let things go that far. I would've made him stop, sleep deprivation or no, one way or the other.

 

I have new respect for her now, ya know. She told me that she was `trying to keep herself together while she was at school.' I didn't see why she came in the first place. Then she told me her mom kicked her sister out of the house. Her sister has no place to go from what I'm told. She doesn't know where she is and I could see the pain in her eyes as she told me that. Again, I wanted to be in her place. I'm a fucking empath so sue me. If there was a word that I could think of, that summed up the fact that I wanted to bear her weight and pain, I'd say I was that too. She my best friend, almost like my sister.

 

I went the day thinking about that. Wanting to tell someone and get advice so I could give it to her. Then later that night, my little cousin is at our front door having gotten a ride from a complete stranger.

 

He's a small something though he's in high school. He looks more like an elementary school kid; small, big black marble eyes….you get the idea. He told me about his mother's boyfriend fighting my fourteen year old uncle. How he threw my cousin, slammed him on the concrete against a wall, and then hit him. I stared at the scratch on his forehead and again wanted to hurt someone

 

Turns out that they're the ones that started though. Hn, go figure. I was getting tired of the rollercoaster ride. I wanted to get off badly. I'm just tired, I guess. I'm usually good with suppressing stuff like this. I talked to my parents about all of it and almost broke into tears. Stupid.

 

I hate getting emotional about shit I can't control. I rather analyze them silently. Maybe keeping my thoughts and emotions to myself. I don't like burdening people with my problems. My mom says I'm going to need therapy. I don't think I do. I just have more thoughts than other people or maybe they're a little different than other people. Who knows?

 

Masochistic. I think that sums up things. I take on problems even if they cause me some turmoil. It's a trait I can't get rid of. Mom says it's hormonal. Maybe that's a bit of a factor. I don't think it is. I've been like then for as long as I can remember. Today is just one of my off days. I'm better at hiding from others at least what I'm feeling. Mom's the only one that can see through it and make me talk about it.

 

Well, I think I dumped enough thought out of my brain. Until next time I feel like I'm about to snap and have a mental breakdown. This is my stress relief. I'm out.