Chapter 26, Fountains Of Sorrow

Does Jason realise the extend of the things he did under the influence? Was it too late to say sorry?

“Why isn’t the food ready yet,” my mom walked into my room while I just lied and looked at the ceiling. Memories ran through my head that was meant to happen, but didn’t. The room was hot and humid with no windows open for the hot air to escape.

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I am. Why do you always just think about yourself?”

“I don’t. I think you are the one only thinking of yourself. Please just leave me alone, I don’t feel well.”

“Who’s going to make supper then?”

“I don’t know,” I said with the irritation building in my voice.

“You need to eat something,” she tried again to get me from my bed to make us food. Eventually I stood up and walked to the kitchen; the place a mother should go and make food, not you.

I took some flower out of the cupboard, milk, sugar, oil and cocoa. I mixed them all together and put it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. What would you guess? Homemade brownies.

“That is not even food!” I heard my mother shout over my shoulder when I took it out of the microwave.

“You said I must make food, and I had a craving for something chocolate. I am sorry if it wasn’t up to your standard.” She gave me a dirty look and turned away. She didn’t come out of her room for the rest of that night.

My hands clutched the white seat of the toilet in the darkness of the bathroom with my head halfway inside. I could smell something that made my stomach turn over once more.

I felt the pit of my stomach giving in to the nausea and the vomit pushing up into my throat. The bitter taste engulfed my mouth. My eyes closed and my mouth opened up from self. With haste the vomit spewed out of my mouth and nose. Pieces of food stuck to my nose while I sat back against the rim of the bath. My body shook from the terrible feelings I had; the feeling of the second batch coming closer to my throat increased every second. It was like time had been cut from my sense of feeling when the vomit came out of my mouth. My head wasn’t near the toilet bowl. The smell made me nauseas again, half of it all sat on my clothes. I breathed loud again in the small bathroom with the door wide open. Beneath the breathing I heard the distant footsteps in the hall running toward the bathroom.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said in a monotonic and calm voice, but the shiver sent down my spine made it impossible to keep the last words under the composed voice I had at the beginning. The tap ran freely with a pink cloth under it. She slowly pulled my t-shirt over my head with my numb body willing at her every move.

“Turn over,” she said with a soft voice. I did as she commanded. The cold-wet cloth touched my back. I felt the urge to pull away from the sudden shock, but I had no energy left. Her motherly hand moved up and down my back with the wet cloth cooling down my hot body. I could feel my armpits warming up and my face glowing like a warm flame flickering over me. The wet cloth helped.

The first light of the sun shone through my room where I forgot to close the curtains properly. How did I get in bed? I rubbed my head with my left hand while resting on the other one. Mom. I tried to smile but nothing came over my face. Something in my right leg twitched, but not like the normal I-don’t-care ones, it was bad. I arched my back to get the pressure off my leg but the pain still carried on. It stopped after a couple of minutes. Thanks heavens.

u wil think that im psychic or sumthing, but i got ur num from a friend of mine! awsome ey? hope u slept well. michelle xx

My heart jumped up and down inside of my ribcage. I couldn’t believe that she actually looked for my number. A girl who wanted my number? The fact that I vomited my lungs out yesterday night made it real and not a lousy dream of some kind. Immediately I texted back, but it was hard. My fingers pressed all the buttons at the same time, and I couldn’t find the right words to say something without it sounding too obvious that I liked her.

Eventually I sent the message, but I wasn’t too confident in it. It wasn’t long when my phone buzzed on the side of my bed. My eyes were still closed and I said a silent prayer that I never do. “Thanks God.”

Reply to the number to stand a chance to win big cash prizes! T’s and C’s apply.

“Is this some kind of joke God?”

“Dude, get ready like in now! I’m coming in three minutes to pick you up to begin the vacation on a note that you will never forget in your life! Be ready or I will cut your testicles off and feed them to you through a straw!”

“Man, John I’m sick.”

“I don’t give a f**k!” the phone went dead in my ear as he put it down. I threw my phone down next to me and rubbed my head with a slight headache on its way. I tried to get out of bed, but my left leg wasn’t willing to get out.

“Baby, John is here,” I heard my mom shout from the kitchen. “Are you sure you’re feeling better? It has only been something like four hours?”

“Mom, don’t worry,” I said walking through the front door looking at the red Ford in the driveway.

“Jason my man!” I heard the echo of his voice hit my head, increasing the pain by a couple of notches. “In his trusty black skinnies and red hoody!”

“Hey man,” I said in a less-than-normal-enthusiastic voice to him.

“Don’t be a downer tonight. Please.”

I climbed into the car. The sport seats were soft and I could imagine myself sleeping in them. He started the engine and in no time we hit the road, but my headache didn’t fade.

“Think quickly!” I saw the little book fly across to my side when he said it. Just in time before it flew out the window I caught it.

“What is it?”

“My gift to you,” a smile stretched over his face while he looked over the road. The car accelerated until we were on top of the stop sign. The brakes screeched when he put his foot down on it.

“Man, be careful! I was almost out the front window!” my heart pounded in my chest as I readjusted in the seat again. The so-called-gift fell to the floor when John did his action stunt and I picked it up quickly to investigate. My hand clutched it and with a heart stopping-gut wrenching feeling I knew exactly what it was. Or the feeling wasn’t so bad. The fake ID lay in my hands with a world waiting in front of me. But I felt like death itself.

“Don’t be a wuss! We are going to party like never before. Tomorrow morning you won’t know your own name.”

“I’m not! I puked my lungs out yesterday. So suck on that.”

“Blah blah blah blah! You’re still alive aren’t you? Breathing? Yeah then you’re fit to party!”

“Where are we going anyways?” I asked when he drove into a neighbourhood I didn’t recognised. The buildings’ windows were cracked and some didn’t even have. Posters of bands lay across the floor and some were still pinned on the walls.

“My secret.” He sat up straight and his face lit up when we reached the designated place of his choice. The sun was touching the horizon and dropping quicker every second. I climbed out of the car when the engine died down and put the ID in my pocket. TIT BAR. The neon sign shone bright in the dusk light. A wind swept across the open parking space and a cold shiver went down my back.

“John, I don’t think this is a good idea.” I said while walking reluctantly over to where the bouncer stood " just out of reach so that he couldn’t have heard.

“Shut up dick face!”

He walked up to the black guy twice, actually thrice his size. His white teeth shown when a smile came upon his face the moment we walked up into the light. The sign was now flashing over our heads.

“Hello boys!” the voice left the huge body. Funny enough his voice was higher than we expected and a chuckle or two left our mouths. “What’s funny you two cocksuckers?” The little smile washed of his face with haste.

“Uh...” I began when John interrupted me.

“Well you wouldn’t know! When we walked up here a little bunny came across to me and asked me if I wanted to buy some weed...”

“Shut up and get in and stop wasting my time.”

I started walking in after John when something that felt like metal hit my ribs. “Not you little boy!”

My hands fumbled while a shook of fear. I tried to reach my pocket but it was useless. I tried again and managed to get the ID out of my back pocket. My hand stretched out to the huge man. From below I looked up into his eyes, brown with black sacks underneath them from all the drugs and alcohol or just the life sucked out of him. I stood while he looked at the ID and then back at me. It happened two or three times in which I felt my cheeks warming. My eyes dwelled on the floor when he still looked at me. He wore black shoes shining in the blue neon light above us.

“Go,” he slammed the ID back into my guts when he finished. I felt the hand around my heart releasing it when I stepped in and saw in front of the door John waiting for me.

“Tssk Tssk,” he made soft hissing sounds with his tongue when I stepped into the building behind him.

The calm feeling was short lived. The first step I took into the ‘bar thing’ the hand around my heart clenched again, even tighter than before. The headache disappeared completely, but an overwhelming feeling of nausea fell into the bottom of my stomach. Not the bad type that makes you want to throw up, but like butterflies.

The first girl that walked past me smiled a sly smile. Her breasts were smaller than the others’, but firm. I felt something move in my stomach again and the excitement overruled the guilt and fear. I walked behind her but stopped when John pulled my arm to the bar.

“Dude don’t be pervy!” he shouted over the booming music that played at the stage and began to laugh when he stuck a beer into my hand. I sat on the barstool and looked over the crowds to look at the girl I saw at the beginning. I didn’t see her face, and now I wanted to. I have never been repulsed by breasts, but I saw a blond with ‘big ones’ hanging like something or someone had hung down them.

“John look at those,” I pointed at her and he looked.

“I bet that’s the only ones you’ll ever get!” He laughed hysterical at the joke he made, but I didn’t really find it funny. I backed away a little again when I took a sip from the beer. My eyes skipped from the one pair to the other searching for that girl again.

I tucked the familiar looking scrawny little arm. When her head turned with haste I felt the vomit coming up my throat. I swallowed hard but kept it down. My head felt like erupting and my cheeks burning from the heat. Our eyes met and she was as shocked as I was. The tray she held fell to the floor. A couple of heads turned with the sound of the beer bottle breaking but no one cared.

“What the hell are you doing inside there?” I said in a voice just beneath screaming. At the same time I flung my hoody over her shoulders trying to cover her nude body. She was cold and her face was red from the shame. Just before she pulled her arm through the hoody’s arm, I saw the red marks on her arm and I knew what she was doing. Her body was thinner than the last time I saw her. There was no emotion on her face, except from the red cheeks, but that was probably the blusher not blushing.

“Aren’t you going to answer me? Do I need to pull it out of you?”

She looked up at me. Beneath the makeup I saw the pain in her eyes, the tiredness. Thick makeup covered the red bags underneath her eyes, the whites bloodshot.

“None of your business! Leave me alone,” she looked away before she talked.

“It is kind of.”

“The f**k it’s not!”

I lowered my breathing and tried to talk in a calm voice, but it trembled from the adrenalin moving through my veins. “I’m sorry.” A moment of silence passed. She looked up into my eyes again " still without any emotion.

“Why, just tell me why,” my voice calmed down when I spoke in a soft voice.

“Like I said...”

“Just cut the bullshit please. Tell me.”

“No.”

I felt the blood rushing to my head again when she refused again. I felt like hitting her but something stopped me from doing it.

“I’m not letting you back in there Amy,” I said after another moment of silence.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“You know we loved each other. You were my everything.”

“Not anymore.”

“Amy please, don’t do this. Just look at yourself. It’s not good fo...”

“You know Jason, you’re right. You aren’t good for me! This is your fault.”

“My fault?” I asked with shock in my body this time. My hands moved from my hips to my mouth. “How can this, this be my fault?”