tired yet? ||cashby||

Chapter 4

Man Overboard played, and I let the drums pound my thoughts away.

•••

Two hours later, I just couldn't lay in bed anymore, though. Rolling out, I ripped the covers away and pushed the hair away from the back of my neck. After grabbing a towel, I hurried upstairs. My body felt gross, and I knew that showering would make me feel all clean and new again.

"Alan!" My brother called as I headed toward the next set of stairs, trying to get to the bathroom. I didn't want to talk to him; I had to get this feeling away from me as quickly as I could, and it had my arms and legs shaking a little. He watched me like I was insane.

"What?" I looked at him; he was dressed nice, but casual.

"Tell mom and dad later that I'll be home late. They're not picking up their phones and I'm going to a friends party," he said hurriedly, and I nodded.

"Is Austin going?" I asked sheepishly. He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"Uh, yeah, why?" he asked, confused.

"Tell him I said hi," I said without even thinking. Michael laughed and walked away.

"Why would he care about that?" He chuckled, and walked out the door. My heart sagged a little, and I walked, slower this time, up the stairs towards the shower. Once I got in the bathroom, I pulled all my clothes off and shed them to the floor; they were suffocating me. I turned the water on as hot as it could go and scalded the sadness away from my skin, scrubbing everything off furiously with my nails. By the end, it was boiling and I couldn't feel anything.

After shutting the water off, I stared at my skin, which was covered in scratches, and bright red from the heat. It reminded me of the past, and I started crying out of nowhere. My body just crumpled to the shower floor, and I let everything fall away. I want to love myself. I want to be okay.
There were just times when everything came crashing down on me, and now was one of those times.

The moment passed, and I dragged myself up and dried off, feeling empty. I pulled the clothes over my pink, marked up skin, and sighed. I didn't want to go downstairs, where everything would be echoingly lonely. Sophie was with her boyfriend, my parents were on a date, Michael was at his party... I was so alone.

Softly, I trotted down the stairs. To my surprise and embarrassment, I found Austin sitting in one of our kitchen chairs. As soon as I took another step, he turned around and looked at me. His cheeks were... blushing? I had no idea why he was here, and wished I had a sweatshirt to cover my arms, because they were still all red.

"Hi, uh," he stuttered for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" I asked curiously, trying to hide my arms behind my back.

"Oh... Michael said you were acting weird, so I just came to make sure... that you're okay," he said slowly, watching me squirm.

"Michael always thinks I'm weird." I shrugged.

"Are you okay?" he asked, staring at me. In my mind, I knew that it was perfectly unreasonable to go check on your friend's little brother because of a backhanded comment he made. Nonetheless, I didn't want Austin to leave.

"Uh-huh," I choked out, nodding. He stood up, and walked to me. His sneakers were still on, slapping against the floor until he stopped in front of me, a few inches away. His hands flew like birds, pulling my arm out from behind me, and inspecting it. I jerked it away, and tried not to look him in the eye.

"Alan, you're kinda pink. Is it too hot in here?" he asked, sounding doubtful and concerned. "And you've got some scratches. What happened?"

"It's just from the shower," I dismissed, and walked past him to get a glass of water. "Aren't you supposed to be at the party or something?" I asked, changing to subject. He looked around, and shrugged.