For Crying Out Loud

13: Consequences be Damned

     Jake's P.O.V.

     Past conversations run through my head as I walk the streets. My conversations with Kayden, and Amy. The ones with Jewel and Sia. The good ones and the bad ones. Is she really glad I'm gone? If so, should I be? Damn this life. Damn these people. Damn myself. Damn it all.

     It begins to rain as soon as the sun completely sets, leaving me in a damp, sorrowful darkness. I allow the rain to caress my skin, slowing my pace to concentrate on the cold patters that hit my neck, face, and arms. It feels like little needles being stabbed throughout my body, lying on the fine line between pleasure and pain.

     The past few months swim through my head like an angry storm, destroying me piece by aching piece.

     I get home, which is just an empty apartment. My mom is here on occasion, but she is currently fancying herself at her boyfriend's place. So I claim this place as my own.

     I go through the liquor cabinet, grabbing a bottle of rum and swigging straight from it. It makes my throat burn, but my body grows warm and satisfied. I slump into the couch and tilt the bottle to my mouth again. I hate the taste, but love the bliss it gives me. Numb, warm, and dull. It's so sweet.

     Fuck all of em'. I think to myself. If she can give up on me so easily, then I can too. I tap my foot with a tremble as I down the bottle, ignoring the pain it causes my throat. Then I grab the radio remote and allow the blaring rhythmic screams to drown out my sorrow.

     I haven't actually slept in days, besides being rendered unconscious for an hour or so. I can feel the wear of it now. The rum lulls my body and begs it to shut down. I don't want to sleep, though. I stand and begin to pace. I swear I feel half-insane right now. "You did this." I say to myself. "You did this!" I feel the tears sting at my eyelids and I throw the emptied bottle at the wall, watching the glass be destroyed piece by aching piece.

     Then I rampage. I throw books from the shelves, plates from the cabinets, pictures frames from the walls and dressers, and anything else I can get my hands on. I throw it and break it all;  forcing this damned house to feel what I'm feeling.

     The sound becomes addictive. I break a chair over the table, tearing the damned thing to pieces just as all these people have done to me. The music blares in my head, increasing my rage. My fist connects with the wall, leaving a huge hole to try and pull me out of my trance. I scream. "You're such a hypocrite, Jake." I whisper to myself as I fall to the floor, unable to stand. "This is what you did to her. She is only doing what you asked of her." I can feel the beads of tears drip from my cheeks. I ram my fists against the carpet a couple times before I curl into myself. "This is the consequences." I sob.

     Then I look up at the mirror before me, taking a slow breath. Here I am, talking to myself. Has it really come to this? Have I become this mad? I look at the dark circles around my red eyes. I look at my damp, puffy cheeks. "No." I whisper. "I will not accept this. Consequences be damned."

Sierra's P.O.V.

     It almost feels good to take control for once in my life. Almost. I can't help but feel this hole grow in my heart as I remember everything. It envelopes me like an icy blanket.

     I drop Precious off at her house, offering to meet up again next week. She agrees, and I smile at her before driving off. Maybe I should have kissed her, but I couldn't bring myself to it. The consequences would be endless. I just drive through the vacant streets as I place a cigarette between my teeth.

     The smoke fills the car, causing a minty smell to play at my nostrils, it's almost relieving, but it brings back so many memories. I remember sitting in this car with him, sharing our first cigarette when we were fourteen. It was my mom's car then, and she was so pissed when she smelled this unfamiliar scent. We both were grounded, but it didn't stop us from sneaking out to smoke more.

     I put the butt in the ash tray and roll the windows all the way down to get rid of the smell. I guess it wasn't as relieving as I thought. I pull over into my drive way and park. I should probably get out. I should probably go inside and get some sleep. I should probably do a lot of things, but instead I break down and cry.

     I don't hit anything, though it's my first impulse. I know it would most definitely wake my mom up, and I don't want her bringing up inpatient treatment tonight. I just sit there and allow the tears to stream down my face one by one. I look at myself in the review window, barely able to recognize the person as rain droplet cover the image. I take a deep breath and pull out of the drive way and back on the road to Precious.

     Thoughts swim through my head, warning bells maybe. I ignore it all as I pull up to her house, and walk through the rain to her front step. She opens the door before I get a chance to knock, then I kiss her. I take her face in my hands and press myself against her, kissing her hard and deep. She pulls me into her house, and I think to myself consequences be damned.

_____~|~
Well then. I don't know about you, but I feel like that was pretty intense. You see, everyone deals with pain in different ways. Eventually you get tired of worrying about the consequences of what you do, and you just do it. Now this is, I believe, is where things twist a little. Vote, tell me what you think, Love you my darklings!