(1567 words) Warning: This chapter includes mentions of abuse, self-death, and religion. If anything makes you uncomfortable don't continue reading, please, I don't want to read angry comments. Have a nice life!
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The soft breeze was perfect for that night, because Jamison was close to the edge of the cliff and the time was around one in the morning. He never did know why the time always felt the calmest to him, it had to be one, because that was when he felt the safest. When it's one in the morning you knew everyone was asleep. The city, the sun, the noise.
Whatever wasn't asleep wouldn't bother him, because they were busy doing their own thing. Unless it was the stars. The stars, Jamison knew, was always prepared to listen to what someone would say, no matter the time of night. That was why Jamison found the time so perfect, why he always came at night.
Sure, he could tell the sun about his day, but by then the day isn't over. He could write in a diary, but anyone could stumble upon it, especially his dad when looking for money. So, for him, the night stars were perfect. They couldn't re-tell his stories and they couldn't respond with 'helpful' information; they were simply there to listen to Jamison, allowing him to get whatever he wants off his chest and not be judged by it.
That was why he had to tell them about his day before he jumped, tell them about his disappearing family. "Dad decided to take all his frustration out on me after church, I don't even know why mom makes us go, neither of us like it. Once we were home, he grabbed a bottle and then threw it at me, now I have a bruise and a cut on my shoulder. That's not even the worst of it." Jamison took a seat at the edge, his weak legs becoming weaker and if he stood any longer, he was sure to fall over.
Which way he wasn't sure.
Jamison always appreciated the lights that came from the city below, that was another reason he liked the night. The night illuminated the bright colors and for some reason, it made it look prettier. Maybe it was just him, but if it was, he wouldn't be mad.
Once seated, he began to swing his feet, his eyes drifting to the dotted sky before he continued talking to the stars. "He used like thirty different tools to hurt me, all because of church. They say that god watches over everyone, wish he would watch over me, maybe then dad would finally leave. Guess it doesn't matter too much though, huh? I'm going to kill myself by the end of this." He dropped onto his back, the force irritating his cuts but he made no noise of pain, he was done caring.
The breeze swept over him and then a thought came, a thought about Mystery boy and Nerdy boy. He wasn't sure if it was a twin or something else, but google had been no help to him, or maybe it was just the way he worded the questions. Then again, what could he ask?
All he knew was that the Mystery boy's personality changed the other night, unless, like he thinks, it was just a twin. But even that seemed a little odd, because why would his twin be coming to the cliff? He came to read a book, said it was a good spot for reading, but that was the first time he saw someone read a book on the cliff. He went here for years, and not once was someone ever sitting down and reading a book, so does that mean it was Mystery boy? Was he feeling different? Did something happen?
Why did Jamison care? He didn't.
That was what he told himself, that he didn't care. And that is why he pushed the thoughts about the boys aside and continued to tell the stars about his day. "I found mom's plain ticket, it leaves Wednesday, one way. She really is leaving, and I doubt she's going to say bye. I shouldn't really care, she never did, but I guess I hoped she would take me away from dad, even if I had to deal with her constant shifts in mood. That would be better then getting cut up and bruised every day.
"I tried to clean as many cuts as I could, but I think I forgot to bandage a few. I'll have to go to the store soon, sadly. Once mom leaves, I'll also have to get a job. God knows dad won't be getting one any time soon." After that thought Jamison laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. "God knows..." He repeated to himself, "because god knows everything right? He knows so fucking much but can't do shit about it. Some savior."
He scoffed, then turned his head to its side to look off the other way of the cliff, towards the second town. He knew he was being irrational, taking his anger out on a religion that didn't do anything to him, but he couldn't help it. God was this all powerful being that apparently created all of the world, yet he just had to give Jamison the worlds shittiest parents.
Some would say that this was just an obstacle he has to overcome to prove himself or something, but Jamison was done trying to prove himself. He was tired of trying to make his parents proud and he was done trying to keep himself from diving off the deep end.
He was just done.
"Just four more months and I would have been able to leave this shitty town, I couldn't even hold out until my birthday." He looked back to the stars and lowered his voice, his eyes closing slowly. "I'm so fucking pathetic."
Then he just laid there, not moving, barley breathing. He was so tired, both mentally and physically. The hell his dad put him through and the hell his own mind put him through, he just couldn't find the strength to get up. He couldn't find the strength to bring him to eternal sleep, something he wouldn't mind right about now.
What felt like only seconds of laying there, his mind vaguely thinking about what could have been up with Mystery boy, and his eyes were back to being open. The once completely dark blue sky looked like a light blue and the stars were fading away, so now he was confused. When his eyes closed it was around one in the morning, he couldn't have closed them for more then a minute, so why did it look like it was five?
He blinked multiple times, then yawned, stretching his stiff limbs as he brought his closed fists to rub against his eyes. That was when he felt it, that was when he noticed.
He was not laying on the grass of the cliff.
He jolted upwards; no sound left his mouth as he looked around. Obviously, he wasn't inside as he could see the stars, but he was not laying on the ground either. It took him a second, one longer than he would like to admit, to realize he was in the back of a pick-up truck. The back of a pick-truck with Mystery boy (or maybe Nerdy boy) leaning on the edge, seemingly half-awake.
By the way he was positioned, Jamison could only assume Mystery boy allowed him to use him as a pillow, and for some reason that thought didn't bother Jamison. It should have, he knew it should have, but it didn't.
And that was what made Jamison scared.
He could not have been attached to the boy he knew not the name of, he couldn't let himself get attached, because then he wouldn't end his life like he wanted to. "I...um, I cleaned and wrapped your cuts." The Mystery boy said, using his palm to clear the sleep away from his eyes, he hadn't meant to doze off some, but he assumes that looking at someone for long enough might make you a bit tired. That and it was around two in the morning when he found the sleeping boy.
Jamison was taken back by the new knowledge, and that was when he looked down. His clothes were on, thankfully, but he could feel the bandages constricting his movements slightly. The idea of Mystery boy seeing his cuts made Jamison both mad and embarrassed, though he was now more tired than either of those two. "Thanks, I guess."
He just nodded in understanding then, to Jamison's surprise, he reached out and gripped Jamison's shirt, pulling the shorter one closer. Jamison was too tired to protest so he just made himself comfortable, forgetting about the curfew his parents set and forgetting about school later in the day.
For now, all that mattered was Mystery boy, and even that was a stretch for Jamison. He knew, somehow, that with the Mystery boy he was safe. He didn't have a nightmare because he was thinking of the boy and he figured he wouldn't have one now, because he was being gripped by the taller. Jamison didn't fear the consequences that would come later in the day nor did he fear that he wouldn't complete his promise of killing himself.
Right now, he was safe, and if that stopped the voice that nagged him constantly, then he was ready to face the fury of his parents for a few more hours of absolute peace.
YOU ARE READING
The little things
Romance"Where did you go?" "What?" "I have been coming here, waiting for you everyday, for the past week. I thought you were dead!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is a story where Jamison, a suicidal teen, gets s...
