The Choice (a Painful Past)

101

So, I leaned forwards, elbows on my knees, and hid my face in my hands, while the sobs started to rack my body. I felt Sherri start to rub my back after a while, but Will never touched me. When I finally got control of myself enough to sit back up, I glanced at him.

His face was stony, pissed even. I became confused and anxious when I saw it.

What had I done?

Why was he upset? I worried over that, even as the minister asked for people to come speak their final goodbyes. I didn't move.

I didn't know how I had pissed Will off, but I didn't want to make it worse, so I stayed in my pew, waiting for the service to be over. He and I had come with Sherri in her car, so when it was finally over, we all left in the one car. Sherri driving, me in the front passenger, and Will in the back.

He slammed her car door when he climbed in, and she threw me a confused look. I shrugged and climbed into her car quickly, to break eye contact. It embarrassed me when he acted like this in front of people.

He stayed quiet for the few couple of miles, besides letting out the occasional overly exaggerated sigh, or changing his position with harsh, jerky movements.

"Are you okay, dude?" Sherri finally asked.

I wished that she wouldn't. I wished that she would just ignore him, so that I could go a little longer without having to deal with whatever it was.

"Oh, YEAH, I'm just FINE." He replied, sarcastically. "You two keep talking. I'm good for nothing, anyway, so just keep pretending like I'm not here." I flinched at his hard tone and implicating words.

He was definitely mad, and it seemed like he thought that I had ignored him?

But, when? It wasn't like we could have a whole conversation inside the church. I hadn't spoken to anyone, not even after the service!

I sighed and turned to look at him.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked, gently, hoping that I could maybe diffuse the situation a little, before Sherri said anything else to him.

He let out a horrible, grating laugh, that did nothing to sooth my already overwrought nerves.

"NOTHING. DON'T ACT LIKE YOU CARE NOW." He yelled, shocking me.

Sherri had never actually witnessed him going ballistic like this, so she didn't know what to do. She stayed quiet and looked at me with nervous eyes.

"I do care." I insisted. "What do you mean? What did I do?"

"HA, yeah right. You care so much that you didn't even need me to comfort you. You start to cry and just pull away from me. Then, you let HER comfort you." He said loudly.

My mouth fell open in shock.

"Wha- huh?" I stammered out. "I don't- I didn't- I was upset, Will! You know I don't like to cry in front of people! I was just trying to comfort myself. I didn't TELL Sherri to rub my back. She just did it. She offered me comfort when I needed it." Those were the wrong words to say, and I knew it, as soon as they left my mouth. "What I mean is-," I attempted to correct myself, before the situation got worse.

I was too late.

"OH, I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT." He yelled.

I watched, as he drew his fist back and punched the car door as hard as he could. The material cracked under the pressure and had me glancing at Sherri. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened, but he started again before one word left her mouth.

"YOU'RE MAKING THIS MY FAULT. AGAIN. LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO. THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!" He screamed.

His face was turning red, with the force of his screams, and his knuckle was cracked and bleeding.

"I WAS THERE FOR YOU, RIGHT BESIDE YOU, BUT YOU TURNED AWAY FROM ME. SO, I GUESS YOU DON'T NEED ME. WHATEVER. HOW ABOUT I JUST JUMP OUT OF THIS FUCKING CAR AND DIE? WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?"

"You need to calm down." Sherri replied, with a shaky voice.

She was scared of him. I wasn't scared that he would hit me or anything, but I guess I was used to his outbursts. I was more scared of his words, than his hands.

Needless to say, that dream, or memory, didn't let me sleep last night. I kept feeling the same thing that I felt when the situations happened. The overwhelming anxiety, the embarrassment, the total shutdown that I eventually got used to, and everything in between.

I was exhausted. Times like these is when I really wished that I could still smoke weed. Unfortunately, they started giving me panic attacks right after I took in Ben.

I wasn't sure why, but that's what happened. I would get this overwhelming sense that something horrible was going to happen, like Ben getting hurt, and then the people would take him away from me, because I was high. Will had tried to get me to smoke with him after Ben was in  bed, but the attacks still happened.

So, I just quit. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.

Tonight though, it wasn't Will that was in my head, keeping me awake. No, tonight, it was all Colby. I wasn't even sure why.

He was just an old friend...right?

Then, why was I having a total inward meltdown over him messaging me back? It didn't make sense, and my mind was desperately trying to figure out why I was feeling the way that I did. Maybe it was because I hadn't actually talked to another guy, who wasn't Will's friend or my family, probably since he had left for LA.

I didn't have a clue where Derek and Johnny were or what they were up in life.

Of course, I couldn't sleep yet again, so I picked my phone back up, after a while of lying there, fully awake, with my eyes closed.

"Fuck it." I muttered.

I pulled up Instagram again and went straight to Colby's profile. His life really was blowing my mind. I mean, he had professional, model quality, pictures and videos on here.

Along with the stupid, funny ones with Sam and his other friends. That was the past though.

The pictures and things that he had posted recently, were mainly of him or him and Sam.