wish i were ⇾ p.c

15- i dont know anyone i am

"and somebody knows but nobody cares. and somebody's there, and somebody knows but nobody there. and nobody cares."
-salvia palth

That night when mom and Josh went to bed, I snuck down into the basement to get a drink. Josh had this bar downstairs with all these fancy alcohols, and most of them just sit on the shelves collecting dust.

To be honest, I'd never seen him drink any of it except for once. When he and my mom had just gotten engaged they had a drink to celebrate. Rośe. Besides that, they only really drank the cheap coors and sam adam's from the upstairs fridge. So I figured they wouldn't notice if a bit was missing from the basement stash.

I looked through all the bottles. I don't know the differences between all these types of drinks, so I just chose a random bottle of vodka. I didn't even bother to pour it into a cup, I drank it straight from the bottle.

The bitter taste burned my throat as it went down, but I had gotten used to the feeling by now. I didn't know how much I would need to get drunk, so I just took a couple long sips. When the fuzzy feeling still didn't come, I grabbed a different bottle and drank from that one after putting the first one hack in its spot.

I figure that it's best to take a little bit of everything so that one didn't seem significantly lighter than the others. I knew better than to replace it with water. One time I remember Two Bit saying that was an ammature move to one of the other guys and that they would get caught easily.

I felt a pang in my heart at the thought of the gang. I miss them. It hasn't even been a week since I'd seen them last, but I didn't care. I missed their stupid selves. And I can't see them anymore. And it's all my fault. I shouldn't have been on that side of school. I should've been in the library with Pony and Cherry. I did this to myself.

I sighed and took another gulp of the alcohol, and slowly, it washed all my pain away.

***
Again I was hungover, but I was prepared for the feeling this time. I gulped down an Advil and heard the phone ringing. I ignored it, but no one got it and it was making head hurt more.

I remembered that Mom and Josh were at work by now because it was already afternoon. They must've thought I was in here sleeping and left me because of how "sick" I am.

Truthfully I hadn't been sleeping. Instead I was drunk in my room and I can't remember what I even did, but I know I wasn't sleeping. That's the only thing I was sure of.

I walked out of my room and knocked on Randy's door so I could yell at him for leaving the phone. No response. I knocked harder, and still, no response.

I opened up the door and he wasn't there. Oh, I guess he was out with friends. Must be nice.

I miss when I was drunk. Cause then I wouldn't be thinking like this. When I get drunk, I don't think anything at all.

The phone continued to ring, so I went down the wraparound staircase and into the kitchen where the house phone was. I picked it up. "Hello?" I said groggily.

"Hey, Kaylee? Is that you?" I recognized the voice. It was none other than Sodapop Patrick Curtis.

"Yeah, hi Soda." I said. What do I do? What if I accidentally tell him?

I thought I saw someone outside the back windows. My heart dropped. Bob. He was coming for me. He was everywhere.

"Hello? Kaylee? Can you hear me?"

Soda's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked, and Bob was gone. Maybe he was never there.

"Yeah, sorry. What did you say?" I asked.

"Ponyboy told me you haven't been at school cause you were sick. I was just checking in, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I guess Steve and Two and Dally hadn't told the rest of the gang about Monday's adventure. Knowing Dally, he probably told the others not to say anything.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm good, and I've been feeling better I guess." I replied.

No, I'm not good. I thought. Please ask me what's wrong. Please help. I need you to, I need someone, anyone, please. Ask me what's going on. Ask me why I don't sound like myself and why I'm avoiding everyone. Help.

"Okay, that's great!" He replied.

"I have to go," I cut him off flatly. I can't do this. I'll tell him, and Bob will know.

"Oh... okay. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"I don't know." I replied curtly. Before he could have a chance to respond, I slammed the phone in the cradle and hung up.

I sank to the floor. I'm alone. All alone. I tried to remind myself that people care, they do, but I'm the one who's pushing them away.

No, my inner voice argued with me, if they truly did care they would do something. They don't care.

I guess you can't count on anyone for anything. Sure, you could have all the friends in the world, but at the end of the day, who really cares about you? I have all these people who are supposed to check on me and care but no one does. All I have is myself.

I couldn't help the cries that escaped from my throat. Tears streamed down my face so fast and I hated myself for it. I've been crying too much.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You did this.

My hands started shaking again. They do this a lot. And then I couldn't breathe. My breaths were stuck in my throat and they wouldn't come out. I'm going to die. I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was drowning under water.

I was drowning, but the surface was right there. It was an inch above my head, but every time I reached for it, something grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me in deeper, deeper, deeper, away from the light.

I grabbed a cancer stick from my sweatpants pocket and, with a shaky hand, grabbed a lighter from the drawer in the kitchen island.

I struggled to get it lit, but once I did, the drowning feeling went away as soon as I placed it in between my lips.

I wish someone payed attention to me enough to realize that I'm not okay, that something's happened to me. My mom was too busy with her new fiancée. My soon to be stepbrother had better friends and better things to do. My best friend was too busy with his new girlfriend.

It seems like everyone's moving on with their lives while I'm stuck here unable to breathe and no ones even noticed. I'm drowning, and no one noticed. God, why can't they just listen! I'm not the way I was a month ago, and especially not now. Oh God, especially not now.

Ugh. I hate thinking like this. I hate thinking about bad things, it makes it worse. I feel like crap all the time but I feel so guilty about being sad. I should be grateful, because now I don't have to live in the poor neighborhood and I have all these new clothes and stuff. And if it weren't for my jealousy, what happened on Tuesday wouldn't have. So it's my fault.

People have it much, much worse. People always have it worse. I need to just suck it up and stop acting like a little bitch. This is my own stupid fault so I just need to quit blaming everybody else.

Well, I'm home alone for at least another two hours. I opened the fridge and pulled out some beers. Time to stop all these shitty feelings.