But other than that?…?what else is out there for me?
No girlfriend. No friends to speak of, and those I do have, I have only because of our common interest. Yeah, you got it: drugs.
As for my parents, they couldn’t care less about me. They have their perfect first son, their soon-to-be Harvard graduate, and I’m just a string-along that happened to pop out around the time they were teaching my brother to walk.
You were just an accident—a shadow of the son they truly wanted.
My parents Venmo me money each week; they can’t have their son walk around dressed like a homeless thug. Though, in their eyes, I guess I still do, with my oversize sweaters and baggy jeans.
In any case, that is the extent of their love. For me, anyway. My brother, they shower with gifts and praise when he does well, like when he got into Harvard.
I remember that day as if it was yesterday. Ethan sat in the kitchen with Mom by his side, acceptance letter in hand. I happened to step by the doorway when she hugged him, and Ethan gave me a gloating smile before he leaned into her embrace, eyes closed.
Happy. Content. The way I had never felt.
Gritting my teeth, I keep pulling at the chain. It feels good to pour all my anger and frustration into violence. I still feel sick as hell, and I should probably be in bed, but I’ve never been good at doing what Ishoulddo.
No doubt alerted by my noisy attempt at escape, Noah comes down the stairs. He’s not in a rush, and his face is as blank as always.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” I snap. “Trying to get free.”
“It won’t—”
“I know it won’t work! Just let me try, okay?”
Noah frowns and takes a step closer.
“Don’t,” I grit out. “Don’t you dare come any closer.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of you, Goldilocks?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and a thought strikes my anxiety-riddled mind. “Afraid I’ll kill myself, maybe.”
It’s a gamble, but it pays off; Noah’s mouth falls open, and his forehead scrunches up in a frown.
“How about if I do this, huh?” I fling the chain toward myself and wrap it around my neck.
Noah’s eyes widen slightly, and his hands twitch by his sides. “I thought you didn’t want it to hurt.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Maybe you’re talking bullshit.”
“What if I’m not? What are you going to do, then, huh, Noah? What are you going to do when you come down here and find out I’m fucking dead?”
He studies me for a few moments, arms crossed. “You think you’ll hang yourself with that chain? You can’t tie it well enough to hold your weight; it’ll come loose if you try.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“You know this will only make me watch you closer, right? I’ll have you on suicide watch from now on.”
Crap, I didn’t even think about that.
“You’ll have to leave sometimes,” I mutter. “To cook food and stuff.”
“I’ll bring some cans down,” he says, shrugging. “Are you sure you want to play this game with me? I’m pretty patient, you know. I’m a hunter.” His gaze is fixed on mine, and I can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.