is death an option? / larry ✅

1.2

The Part Where Everything Goes To Even Worse Shit Than Before

Okay, so don't you know how I said that there was a part in every single story out there where the protagonist runs into a troublesome issue? Well, if you've ever read a book, you'll realize that they always overcome their problems within a short span of time; a explosive fight with friend, deadly aliens trying to overtake their home planet.

Mines, though, lasted for an entire month.

After me and Zayn's fight, we stopped hanging out entirely. My reasoning was because I simply couldn't face Zayn after what he'd done to me, and Zayn's, I'm sure, was because he was sick of me and my self attitude. I understand that now, of course, but I didn't then, so it only proved to piss me off even further.

I remember one day when Zayn didn't show–a full week after our fight, the bruise engulfing my jaw was beginning to fade into a pinkish–purple. I was hiding out in Mr. Walsh's office, staring down at the untied laces of my sneakers with my lunch sitting uneaten besides my arm, not able to eat because I kept thinking about how I hadn't visited Louis since I had uttered the words "Have fun being dead". I had no idea what was happening with him, if he was getting better or worse. (It was worse, unfortunately.)

Mr. Walsh had begun to question me on the whereabouts of a paper that had needed to be turned in over a month ago, something else that had been forgotten due to the mass amounts of time I spent with Louis. I asked for another extension, and he told me that I couldn't, due to the fact that it was the end of the quarter. I only shrug in response.

Then, he goes on about Louis, and how he'd heard about how he decided to stop treatment. I don't say anything, mostly because I'm certain that if I do, I'll begin to weep like the pussy that I knew I was (am). Mr. Walsh tells me a story about when his mother was killed in an unfortunate incident; how he was certain that she was nothing more than a drunk, but was revealed to various stories about his mother at her funeral. I don't remember much about the examples he gave me, but one of them involved her being a Madonna impersonator when she was younger.

I don't care. I didn't like the way he attempted to make Louis' impending death into a lesson about "learning more about someone, even after they're gone".

So, I left. I walked until I reached about five blocks away from the school, and caught a bus. When I got home, my dad gave me a strange look. He's indulging in a bag of cotton candy when he informs me that Zayn had left something for me in my room.

It's a flash-drive, along with a sticker that read "I'M OUT" in bold, ink markings. I don't watch it, but I know that it's for Louis.

We encounter each other the next day. I stalk into Mr. Walsh's office during lunch to see him sitting there, watching a film created in France as he sprawled across the man's comfortable couch. He looks up, blinks at the mark he'd made across my jaw. He laughs, and I leave.

While I'm in the lunchroom, I receive an email that my admission into Ohio State had been pulled as a factor of my recent, poor grades. Unsurprisingly, I don't care. I didn't want to go, anyway.

Kristen approaches me, smiling. She sits down before me, and I was quick to clear the message away from my phone. She asks how the movie was going, and I informed her that I wouldn't be finishing it, due to the recent developments in Louis' cancer story.

She looks at me like I'm crazy, and I say:

Me: Kristen, Louis stopped treatment. He gave up. He's going to die.

Kristen: Well, I guess that's even more of a reason to finish the fucking movie.

After she had spoken, she scoffs at me like I'm disgusting and walks off–out of the cafeteria, and towards some unknown destination.

I remember thinking that none of this wouldn't be happening had my mother hadn't forced me into hanging out with the cancer boy.

And I was right.