Note: The characters and events in this story do not necessarily have real life equivalents. This story is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. Chapter One ~ Midnight Blue I always said I’d do it. Truth is, I can’t. When I break down because of a stupid thing like an argument with Mae, I’d say that now would be a good time to off myself, but I never could do it. Even if the world seems like its caving in on me, I know that people have it a lot worse. My problems? They are nothing compared to what millions and billions of other humans go through and I couldn’t even think of what happens to them. And here I am, laying down in bed thinking my life is horrible. Another reason I can’t do it? I’m not strong enough. I’d take the knife from under my pillow and I’d stare at it for a while with the moonlight streaming through the window. It was a Remington PAL 36 Combat knife. I found it when I was looking through the basement when my family first moved in and I haven’t told anyone that I had it. The sheath was worn and the blade was a bit rusty. I could have easily gotten rid of the rust but for some reason I kept it. I liked the idea of carrying around a vintage knife, like it meant something to me. I’d always read those stories about people who carried mementos of a deceased relative and it gave them strength to carry on or whatever. I wanted that to be me, but like I said, people out there have it much worse than I do. I picked my phone off the side of the bed and checked the time. 2:41 AM. Was it really that late already? I’m screwed, I’ve already started sleeping in class because I stay up all night to catch up on episodes of The Walking Dead and Supernatural. I turned the phone screen to the knife, and stared at it once more. I wanted to feel a connection to it, but the more I stared at it, the more I realized that I had no tie to it whatsoever. The phone light turned off, and I rolled over to fall asleep. One more time, I thought. Damn it, I always ended up doing this. Facebook. Messages. Archived. I don’t know how I felt about myself looking back at these messages. Mae was just... I don’t know how to explain it. She was one of the most amazing people in my life, and she just lit my whole world up. But then there are those times when you realize... Oh, I’m not as important to you as I thought. You act this way with just about everyone else. Ha, these messages, I felt myself getting embarrassed even with no one knowing that I was looking through these. The one conversation I always looked back on was a time where I was testing out cheesy pick up lines with her. I’d known her for a bit, and only then started talking to her more. When I asked for her number online like a scrub, she told me to ask it in a cheesy way. Damn, I was so lame but I can’t help but smile at how innocent we were back then, and how much fun we’d have together. I really want to turn away but I just keep reading. Ten, twenty minutes have passed by now since I started reading. I was feeling so nostalgic. I wanted those times back, I wanted to be friends with this amazing person again, but I know that even if I tried, things would never be the same, it would be peace, but a separate one. We don’t have any romantic feelings for each other, now at least, I consider her family. Like my little sister, and I’ll get defensive and protective around her whenever theres a new guy. I know she is an individual, but I just... I felt as if her being, her character, her essence belonged to me and me alone. It was a bit selfish, but the moments we were alone and not with our friends were few and far between. It was already three in the morning. Its not like I was going to do anything tomorrow anyway, or rather do anything today. Only a few weeks after freshman year ended and I was already bored as hell. I like how that works, looking forward to the summer months whilst toiling away at school, only to get here and sit around the house bumming on the computer. At least, thats what I’ve been doing. I really do need to go out, browsing Facebook and playing League only takes up so much time before I plop my face on the desk and mope about how boring I am. I reached up into the headboard cabinet and take out my wallet, confirming that my CharlieCard was still in there. I’ll take the line that matches the color of the thing that I see first in the morning. A couple bucks, my ticket and all day to explore the stops on a line, starting from downtown. That’ll be good. I slip my headphones on, turn on The Fray playlist and close my eyes. I stare into the blackness that is my eyelids. This thought reminded me of something I saw on Facebook, about why when we closed our eyes we saw black when in reality they were pinkish. I always thought that was a stupid question. I mean, obviously the lid is thick enough that light sometimes doesn't pass through. My eyes were closed but my mind was not. How come my brain decides that only at three in the morning I can think about my life. I was going nowhere, and nowhere fast. When I a little kid, I thought I had my entire life planned out. Go to a good college, get a good job and find the right partner. It all seemed so simple. Now? Now I know that there are steps to get those things, and honestly, I don't think I'm taking the right ones. I pulled the thin sheet closer to my body, making sure that my feet were covered. I always had this abnormal fear that If I didn't cover my feet, some kind of monster would rip it off and I'd wake up the next morning with one less appendage. Yeah, time to go to sleep.