Weak Hero Short Stories

The Sleepover Part Four

Gray's POV:

Ben seems to be drifting in and out of being here, I wonder what he's thinking of. Though, Ben is acting unusual. Its not nearly as odd as Teddy's actions. He's been scared of me since.... well, he has a good reason I suppose. 

He's always been distant to me, always finding excuses to not be alone with me. And even though now we're friends, I never expected him to come sit by me, out of everyone else in the room. Now I can see more clearly details that perhaps we often miss, his hair is slightly messed up, and his hands fiddle aimlessly with strands when he's bored or thinking, or how perfectly his thick black eyelashes frame his dark blue eyes. 

He's so pretty, and yet so sad.

What is this sense of deja-vu?

When they talk too loud, or argue, I can feel him flinch and tense beside me. Do I do that too? 

Its getting later, is he tired? I'm tired.

The other boys are droning on and on about cars, makes, and models or something like that. How late are they intending to stay up? Maybe we could go to bed early? Would they want to go to bed this early?

"Hey Gray?" A voice says, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I answer instinctually, which makes me wonder how long I've been on autopilot, not really thinking but answering nevertheless.

Ben slightly frowns, "Are you alright? You seem tired." 

How much I wish I could tell him I feel like shit, how I'm exhausted in every way, the lack of sleep I've been receiving, my break down in the bathroom of a random gas station. I take a breath, I couldn't tell him, he can't know.

"I'm rested." Was my half-hearted reply, I could've formulated something better. Something far more natural sounding. Yet my answer was, 'rested'. 

He looked like he wanted to say more, yet didn't have anything else to say. I hated how I always did this to him, he always wanted to say more to me, yet never knew where he stood with me, never knew how much he could actually say to me. I guess I don't make it easy.

"Have you eaten today?" Rowan asked from across the room, his eyes flitting over me and Ben. 

"Yes..." I lied, my voice trailing off at the end. I hadn't. This morning I'd woken in a cold sweat, thrashing around. My blankets felt like steaming towels, clinging to my body and suffocating me. My pillows were thrown to the floor along with the blankets that seemed to grab hold of me and constrict me like a snake. Eventually it all ended up in the floor.

I'd screamed and sobbed, since once again, no one was there to hear it. Nobody was there when I'd curled into a ball on my bed and soaked my bedsheet with tears. Nobody heard me scream as I was waken from my nightmare, forcefully ripped away from any source of comfort, any closure. Every fucking good memory I have is warped and distorted, AND NOW ITS ALL MY FUCKING FAULT, EVERTHING THAT HAPPENED; ITS ALL BECAUSE OF ME, I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT; I NEVER SHOULD HAVE TALKED TO HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE; I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LOVED HIM!

So no, I haven't eaten, I don't have the energy for that. I hardly have what it takes now to hold myself together. Even now I sit here, I feel their stares, and I have to smile. I have to be okay, because if I'm not okay then they'll ask me about it, why, what's wrong. And If I tell them, then they'll care and it'll become an ordeal. And if it becomes an ordeal, well...

We can't deal with that right now, there's too much on Ben's plate as is. He's dealing with too much, since as our leader, he gets most of the backlash of everything. And I'd hate to burden him with my sob story, with new emotions he'd have to take into account of, hell, I'd hate to burden anyone with that. It better when I'm quiet, when I'm emotionless, a blank slate. Its better for us.