im not crazy || jeremike

1

Smoke covered my vision, the thick and intoxicating stench lingering into my lungs. I didn't bother to duck for cover or anything. I laughed, but I cried. It wasn't a snicker or a giggle or a measly tear or two; it was sobbing behind almost psychopathic cackling.

I envied him.

His social skills, his charm.. All of it.

I just wanted to fucking end him already..

I felt as if my whole body had been knocked down like a bowling pin as I collapsed to the ground. I let my eyes close as I let out on last chuckle.

"I killed him.."

Two months later..

I sat in my bathroom tub, smiling to myself as I soaked in the crimson stained water. Cuts lined my entire being, the wounds forming perfect, flesh deep lines of pain. I felt it all. All the pain I've suffered through just flowing out of me alone with my blood. I ran my fingers through my curly, brown rats nest I call hair, only to get it wet and slightly clotted with blood. I missed him. He was all I had. It was all my damn fault, too. I was hoping the fire would kill me as well, but it seems the only thing worse than death is guilt eating at you day to day.

I continued to lay in the stained tub, making sure my cuts were at least slightly clean. I might be suicidal but an infection would only double my amount of suffering. I did this often; lay in the warm water and cut away. Sometimes I'd close my eyes and imagine what would happen if I was normal. If Scott was still here. Maybe if finally remember what my skin looked like without scars.

I finally decided to get up, draining the water and stepping out before wrapping a towel around my waist. I began my usual procedure— bandage arms, legs, and stomach, brush hair, brush teeth, and take antipsychotics. The everyday life of Jeremy Fitzgerald. The few things that made me feel somewhat sane. As I finished brushing my hair, I heard a knock on the door. Luckily, I had slipped into some clothes that covered my bandages. I went to answer the door, seeing a male slightly taller than me. He looked about my age.

"Hey, I'm a new neighbor, I just moved in next door.. I got your mail on accident." He handed me a couple of letters.

"T-Thanks.." I stuttered. I hadn't really talked to anybody since Scott died, so I was a bit nervous.

"I'm Mike." He smiled, his piercing blue eyes staring into mine. I couldn't tell an exact emotion, it was just a blank stare.

"Jeremy." I replied. I sighed as I noticed some people behind him pointing and making comments. I was known in the block for being the 'creepy man who never leaves his house', so the fact that Mike had the courage to walk up to me obviously got him somewhere.

"Listen, you seem like a really nice guy and I'm glad you're my neighbor but if you know what's best for you, you'd stay away." I whispered. He looked slightly confused. I muttered an apology before shutting the door. I sighed and walked back towards my room, only to resume my agony.