The Word Special (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Thirteen

Unedited, sorry

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Another low beep from the ancient heart monitor, and drip from the IV hooked up to his arm and another second gone by that Oakley is still unconscious. It sounds so cliche, the whole image of a person sick in bed while their loved ones gather around almost makes me laugh. Except I don't laugh. I haven't laughed since he got here. How long has that been now, five days? A week?

Another thing that doesn't fit that image that floats around my head, there's no loved ones gathered. His moms down stairs in the cafe with Grayson, all his friends are in school and his auntie has been here once, and then there's me. But I wouldn't be classed as a loved one, now would I? Who puts the person they love in hospital, who hurts the person they love? I wouldn't liked to be hurt by the person that was supposed to love me, so they deserve the same. But then why does my heart tell me I love him or is that another cliche piece of bullshit that my head is creating. Do I like the fact that I can care about someone so much that my minds taking it as love?

Am I going insane?

The question floated through my head, and not the first time this week either. It wouldn't surprise me at this stage either if there was some idiotic thing wrong with me that selfishly affects the people around me. But maybe that's just me subconsciously hoping that all the blame is not entirely mine. But who else's blame could it be, the small Chinese workshop that manufactured the razor? my moms for giving birth or should I say the condom company for such failures that they make more mistakes then a blond on cocaine? Not something you could hold someone too.

I question myself a lot lately if you haven't noticed, something that tends to keep my mind active after spending a week in the same uncomfortable chair. Yet with every question I ask i seem to come up with more 'maybes' and 'ifs' then I do and actual answer. But that's the way the world works right? I mean you can question almost anything yet, when do you ever get a straight proven answer apart from the whole E=Mc2 shit. Maybe it's just me being a retard that I miss the obvious. Or I could come up with some lame excuse like the 'pressure isn't letting me think straight'.

But that would be a whole load of bull straight from the horses arse. I could think perfectly straight, straighter it seems then before since now I have the time and patience to think of the first thing that comes to mind. I tried the whole 'blank mind' thing for the first two day, and it worked until the people around you would start talking or you'd hear the outdated song they play down the hallway, and ask yourself 'What was the artist thinking when he sang those lyrics?' and you come up with all these crazy scenarios that seem pure impossible. Yet it's the impossible that makes the brighter side in life, like how the stars can seem so close to touch yet so far way. Much like Oakley at the moment.

And then my thoughts would somehow always travel back to Oakley and have me asking the main question again 'Do I love him?'. Cause I feel I do, and I think I do, but do actions speak louder then emotions or just words? Is the pain I'm feeling in my chest a make-believe feeling or just heavy guilt.

Do I love Mr. Oakley Samuel Charms?

Yes. Without a doubt,

Maybe. Is it real?

No. You don't hurt the people I love.

So I came to a conclusion. I'm just a monster with a such twisted obsession with him. I'm the wicked witch of the west that prays on innocent, I'm the big bad wolf that hasn't a care for anyone but himself, and I'm the evil stepmother who takes others for granted.

I'm Wyatt Fernando and I'm one sick motherfu*ker.

And now that I know what I am, all I have to do is find the strength to leave these people alone for good. I'll go back home, have a nap and watch some tv and mind my own bussiness. That's what I should do, but I'm not. I'm too much of a coward to do it and I keep telling myself 'Ill go when Nadine comes back' and then I put it off, again and again.