Happily Ever AFter

I knew I was different, but I thought I was the one making it a negative thing. I never thought there was something else standing in the way of my own contentedness.

We were on our way back.

Stuart wouldn't stop badgering me for the whole story. "But like who was that in your driveway when we pulled up? Why were you running? Why are you rubbing your head? Please prove to me that you're not a terrorist so I can freaking sleep at night."

"I'm not a terrorist," I said.

Austin slowed at the yellow light. "Geez, thanks. I feel loads better."

Sooner than later, the witty comments were replaced by cringy yet genuine laughter. If this was the best of my life, awaiting my death at home, I'd take it. I couldn't imagine it gets much better.

I rubbed my temples. 

I guess this is the end. I was going to go back home and get locked up in my room until my kids had kids, which would not happen for multiple reasons. That story about my efforts to kill myself was going to spread. I would have to answer to it. Julia would go live on some private island with Alexander or some other pretty boy, and she'd be super happy with that typical life she always deserved. Valerie would go on to be rich and famous in her crazy fashion palace. Austin would film in Hollywood. Stuart would be Stuart. Kim and Willie would be endgame.

And me?

They all accepted me. I was their nobody, and that was enough. That was enough for my happily ever after. 

It's an ending alright. I can taste the vomit in my mouth.

I'm sorry, I can't stop here. I wish it could. I wish we could. I wish I could.

Something stabbed at my chest, synchronous with that throb in my head. It was so strong now, I thought I was going to explode. (Now that would be a great ending, a much better one.) Austin, Stuart, Willie. These guys had stood up for me. I needed them to know that before everything changed for the worse.

I grabbed for the bottle of Tylenol in my pocket. Through the earthquake behind my eyes, I prepared one last sappy speech before oblivion.

"Look, um...guys, thanks for..." 

My voice drifted off, and I wasn't sure why. My eyes set on the sky through the windshield. It was grey.

"Hey, don't get all emotional on us, Ben," Austin snorted. "Save it for Julia."

Their laughter drowned out. I heard a low grumble. A high ringing joined that noise and I tried to block it out. I grabbed my ears. It got louder. Where was it coming from? Where was I?

 "Ben? Ben!"

 I felt myself jerk to a stop as a car would. I looked over and found a blurry version of a stick person. A muffled voice. Someone was over there, but the person's face was a swirl of watercolors. Red replaced the blue, dipped into a crimson-purple. I felt my eyes roll against their lids, cut between the back of my head and the cold air. 

"Ben!"

Blackness drowned the pallet of color. The leather seat transformed into a knife, a thousand knives. My skin...numb...it wasn't my skin. The blades jabbed deeper, attacked from my head's prison. An uprising. There was wet, dry where my knuckles should've been. Something else moved, but I couldn't see it.

I wanted to open my mouth and escape my own thoughts. Instead of my voice—a light ring—like a chime on a doorbell. 

Where was I?

What was happening?

I saw Julia, she grabbed for me, but I kept falling. My friends from therapy. Eyes replaced the stars in the sky, watched me as the ground got bigger. Kyle screamed at me. Thump. I was in the fountain, covered in my own blood.

The cop. Julia's grandparents. Ed. Dr. White. Kim. Willie. Valerie. Stuart. Mom. Dad. Austin. Kyle. Julia.

Black.

The crimson puddle climbed up. My limbs iced on the concrete as it rose towards the rim. It buried me and burned what was left of my lungs, sopped the last of the light.

I can't die yet. 

I've finally found something worth living for.

The black was replaced by white, and my conscious became nothing.