Feeling Nothing.

42 2 5

Leos POV

I don't know why I poured my heart out to Ghost King after the concert. I don't know why I didn't leave Nico alone in the bathrooms. I don't know why I get so jealous of Octavian when Nico 'talks' to him. I don't know why I nicked his sketchbook. But, man, I am so glad I did. I'm sitting in my little hideaway in the park, thumbing through the Italians drawings, to see a part of him that he hides away. I pass the sketches of me (There are quite a few), shaded drawings of roses and little cartoon zombies, Vampires and Werewolves. I trace a finger over a rose growing out of the eye of the Ghost King mask. Guess he like Hollywood Undead. I approach the back of the book and come across panels upon panels of this one character.

The Boy looks a lot like Nico and the pages detail his life. I pass through school where A trio of boys beat on him and to his home life. My eyes scan over an abusive father, malnourishment and shredded skin. I go to the last page where the boy is bent over a table... And the father is raping him. I go to the final two panels where the boy is swallowing pills, and at the very end, a grave stone. Here lies Nico DiAngelo. I stop there and push the book into my backpack. I run out to my car and the engine roars to life. I peel out of the parking lot and try to recall where he would turn off. I swerve onto Elysium Street and stop outside of 667. Hitting the breaks I bust the door open and sprint into each room.

I run up the stairs and come face to face with a black door, cracked open. I step lightly and nudge the door open. I see Nico curl into a ball on the floor and Swallow a scream. I quickly dial 999 and give them the address. I grab a shirt from his floor and wrap the lacerations, applying pressure. Shit, pills. I drag him to the bathroom and position him over the toilet. Shoving two of my fingers down his throat, I pray to every deity I know that this works. The raven haired boys gag reflex kicks in, emptying the contents of his stomach.  After I've done the best I can I check how his pulse is. Faint and slow, fading with each beat. I lay him down on the floor and start pumping his chest.

"You can't fucking die. If you die I will fucking kill you. I can't let you die. You are not allowed to die DiAngelo!" I yell, finishing the first thirty count. I hold Nicos nose and tilt his head back. Slotting my mouth on his I blow air into his lungs five times. I start the next thirty count of pumping his heart. I listen as sirens speed towards to house and heavy steps rush up the stairs. "Bathroom!"I yell, when random doors start to open. A huge guy roughly shoves me out of the way and scoops Nicos frail body up. I stand on shaky legs and stumble down stairs. A kind lady starts talking, trying to get me to stop following them and I shake her off. Now that the adrenaline of holy shit, the dude I have somewhat gay feelings for tried to kill himself. Is gone, I feel empty and numb.

"Let me come." I mumble. The lady says something else but everything is muffled, like hearing through cotton. She shakes her head and the ambulance speeds away. I sway and sit on the couch, the lady following me. "It's my fault." I murmur. "If I wasn't such a tool, this never would have happened," I cry, burying my head in my hands. She rests her hand on my shoulder and I brush it off. "I'm sure you feel that way now, because of the shock, but You can't blame yourself." She says in a high pitched voice.

"You don't understand. This is all my fault. I beat on him. I verbally abused him. I never took a moment to see what was going on with him." I say, voice cracking. I look over at the lady who has waist length caramel hair, alabaster skin, and almond eyes. She tries to sit next to me and put her hand on me again. I grab her wrist and grip it as tight as I can with out breaking it. "Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me." I snarl, wiping my tears away. She nods and I let go of her.

"I'm a certified grief counselor. If you need me, here's my card." She says lowering her voice and biting her lip in an 'seductive' way. I read the name plastered at the top in bright pink. Calypso Tietan. I roll my eyes and look back at her. She pushes her breasts out and I restrain from gagging. "Yeah, I'll call you. When I lower my standards, to girls who try too hard and use grief to get fucked." I say, smiling sweetly. She huffs and stands up, only to sit on my lap, trying to give me a lap dance. I shove her off of me and wait for Nicos father to come home. I hear the door open and a drunken yell of "Get down here you Whore!" I stand up from the couch and match the mans face to the man from Nicos drawings.

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